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He’s been pacing his office since we got off the phone with his hacker. I’m surprised he hasn't worn a path through the floor yet.
Every time his door closes behind us, the executive floor goes quiet. Grace told me yesterday there’s a betting pool on which of us walks out first, and that the odds have been drifting in my favor. I’ve stopped pretending I don’t notice the way the assistants watch us through the gap when someone opens the door.
For someone usually so put together, he’s a mess. He’s yanked his tie loose, as if it were choking him, unbuttoned his collar, and run his hands through his hair so many times, it’s messy, in a sexy way.
“I’m not using buzzwords, Sebastian. It’s just the reality of the situation. If you want me to put it another way, I will. When this hits the papers in the morning, nobody is going to care about the legal nuances. All they’re going to see is that you terminated the jobs of two people who probably weren’t to blame.”
“They failed to do their jobs, Isabella,” Sebastian snaps back, turning on me before returning to his pacing. “That’s the way the world works. Someone screws up their job, they get fired. Anything else is a failure of management.”
“None of that matters in a case like this. What the public sees is what makes you the villain. And trust me, in a fight against the 'little guy,' a multibillion-dollar corporation never comes out looking like the hero. They are always the bully. That’s just how the world works.”
Sebastian continues to pace. I can almost see the string of curses flying through his head.
“What we need is to create a new image for you,” I continue, leaning back against the table, acting as the calm to his raging storm, “an image of the future president and CEO as a reformer: a man who will change the company’s trajectory, take it in a better direction, and actually look after his employees.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sebastian throws up his hands. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Anyone can pretend they’re going to change things. If you know corporate culture, you know it never actually works that way.”
“So, you’re telling me that when you take the reins, you’re going to run it exactly the same way your father does? You’re not going to fix the security issues? You’re going to let this place keep its reputation as a place where work-life balance goes to die? Don’t think I haven’t read the Glassdoor reviews on the King Corporation.”
I step directly into his path, forcing him to stop and look at me. “Sebastian, at some point, you are going to be the head of a billion-dollar multinational corporation. In the brief moments I’ve met your father, I’ve seen exactly who he is and how he runs this place. Is that the future you want? How do you want to run this company once it’s yours?”
Sebastian blinks. For once, he doesn’t have an answer. I’ve actually rendered him speechless.
“Have you never thought about this before now?” I ask.
His eyes narrow, which is all the confirmation I need. He hasn’t. His father probably never allowed him even to consider it.
“What kind of leader do you want to be, Sebastian?”
We stare at each other, and I can see his thoughts racing. He wants to be angry with me. His jaw is tight, his gaze piercing, but he’s stuck. If he doesn’t have an answer for me, he’ll never be able to sell it to the public. He won't be able to convince them that change is coming to the King Corporation in order to right the wrongs this scandal has exposed.
Sebastian forces the words out through a clenched jaw. “And how do you suggest we sell this new version of the company?”
“A grief interview. A one-on-one with a well-known and respected reporter, someone known for hard-hitting news, someone who doesn't pull their punches, someone who will call out your bullshit on live TV. If you can survive that, the public will believe you aren't just feeding them a line.”
“What the hell is a grief interview?”
“You’re going to mourn what’s happened to this company. You’re going to show the world that those two plaintiffs aren't the only victims. The King Corporation and the King family were also victims of this plot. You’re trying to shield everyone else from this unprecedented assault, even if you couldn’t save the other two. You lead the defense, so no one else has to suffer. You remind the public that if this company goes down, everyone from the C-suite to the janitor loses their livelihood. They need your protection, Sebastian.”
“You think my father is actually going to agree to this?”
I cross my arms over my chest and meet Sebastian’s gaze head-on. “Regardless of what your father said in this office, he hired me to do a job, and this is how I do it.”
Sebastian looks like he wants to argue, but he also looks exhausted. It’s perfect. Vulnerability is a tool, provided it’s directed by the right hands. When we do the interview, I’ll tell makeup not to cover the dark circles under his eyes.
“As of tomorrow,” I continue, “you are no longer just the heir apparent. You are the reformer. That’s the word we’re going to use, and it's the word the press will adopt.”
Sebastian’s brows arch. “The reformer? Sounds a bit Marvel Comics, don’t you think?”
“That’s exactly the point,” I counter. “We frame the data leak not as a failure of your leadership, but as the final symptom of a dying, outdated system. We admit the infrastructure was porous because the old guard favored tradition over technology. You’re the hero, the one coming in with the scalpel to cut out the rot.”
“And the grief part? You want me to be emotional on national television?” There’s a hint of disdain in his voice, along with a flicker of interest in his dark eyes.
“I want you to be human, Sebastian. You need to show the world that this leak didn’t just hurt the bottom line. It hurt you, too. It’s kept you awake at night. You need to look into that camera and show them a man devastated by a breach of trust. You need to sell the idea that you feel every single employee's loss as if it were your own.”
I watch him closely. His jaw is tight, his brow knitted. Kings are bred for stoicism, for the cold distance of the upper atmosphere. But I wonder if, underneath the mask, the man I met at the bar still exists, the one who seemed to care about me more in a few hours than most people have in my entire life. I know there is a kind human being under that shield of ice. Julian King didn’t steal all of the humanity from his son.
“Kings aren’t vulnerable,” Sebastian growls.
