Chapter 41

Serena's POV

The autumn collection's launch meeting ran longer than expected. Sitting at the head of the conference table, I rubbed my temples, trying to maintain composure while processing Arthur Burton's report. My stomach churned - not from skipping lunch, but from the barely concealed mockery in his tone.

"So, Mr. Burton, you're telling me our entire production line is at a standstill because of a sudden worker strike?" I kept my voice level, though my fingers tightened around the production report. "And this information is only reaching me now, three weeks before our launch?"

Arthur leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "With all due respect, Ms. Sinclair, you've been quite busy with the marketing campaign. We didn't want to trouble you with... operational details."

The condescension in his voice made my blood boil. Around the table, I caught several executives exchanging glances. They were waiting to see how I'd handle this - the young CEO facing her first major crisis. I could practically hear their thoughts: "Just like her father predicted. Too inexperienced."

"Operational details?" I placed the report down with deliberate slowness. "Mr. Burton, a complete production stoppage isn't a detail - it's a catastrophe that threatens our entire fall season. When exactly did this strike begin?"

He shuffled through some papers, taking his time. "About... ten days ago?"

"Ten days." The words fell like ice between us. "And the standard protocol for labor disputes is to notify senior management within twenty-four hours. Would you care to explain this discrepancy?"

Arthur's smirk faltered slightly. "Well, we thought-"

"No," I cut him off, rising from my chair. "You didn't think. Or rather, you thought you could undermine this launch by withholding critical information." I turned to address the room at large. "Let me be perfectly clear: if this collection fails to launch on schedule, every dollar of lost revenue will be traced back to those responsible for the delay. Every. Single. Dollar."

The silence that followed was deafening. I nodded to Vincent. "Get the car ready. We're going to the factory."

As the room emptied, Arthur lingered, his earlier smugness replaced by calculation. "Ms. Sinclair, the workers are quite... agitated. Perhaps it would be better to let HR handle-"

"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Burton." I gathered my tablet and phone. "But I prefer to see things for myself."

In the elevator, Vincent waited until we were alone before speaking. "The workers are claiming unpaid overtime, Ms. Sinclair. But all the official records show full payment."

I closed my eyes briefly. Of course. "Two sets of books?"

"Most likely. And Mr. Burton has been handling all communication with the factory manager, Leon Hendrix."

The pieces were falling into place. My father's allies, positioned throughout the company, working to orchestrate my failure. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as we reached the parking level.

"Vincent, call Legal. Have them start reviewing our labor contracts. And get me everything we have on overtime payments for the past six months."

The drive to the factory took forty minutes - forty minutes I spent reviewing financial reports and trying to ignore the gnawing realization that I'd been blind to this brewing crisis.

The factory parking lot was eerily empty when we arrived. Leon Hendrix met us at the entrance, his expression a mix of smirk and barely concealed disdain.

"Ms. Sinclair," he drawled, looking me up and down. "This is unexpected. My daughter's about your age, you know. Though she's still learning the basics of retail."

"How fortunate for her," I replied coolly. "I, on the other hand, am here to discuss why our workers haven't received their overtime pay."

His face darkened. "I wasn't aware you were familiar with factory operations."

"I'm familiar with basic mathematics, Mr. Hendrix. And the numbers aren't adding up."

Before he could respond, a commotion erupted from the factory floor. A group of workers had spotted us through the windows, and within minutes, we were surrounded by dozens of angry faces. I caught a glimpse of Leon Hendrix as he casually walked to his office.

"It's the CEO!" someone shouted. "Don't let her leave until we get our money!"

I raised my hands, keeping my voice steady. "I'm here to understand exactly what's happening and make it right."

"That's what they all say!" A woman pushed forward - their representative, I guessed. "We've been working twelve-hour shifts for months with no extra pay. We have families!"

Looking into their tired, angry faces, I felt shame burn through me. How had I missed this? All those glossy reports about increased productivity, and I'd never questioned the human cost.

"I give you my word," I said, meeting the representative's eyes, "this will be resolved. Not with promises - with action. Starting now."

"Words are cheap," she shot back. "We've heard it all before."

"Then let's move past words." I turned to Vincent. "Call the finance department. I want a complete audit team here within the hour. And get me a tablet - we're going to review every overtime record, right here, right now."

The crowd stirred, surprised by the immediate response.

Nina's POV

My dad's phone buzzed, it's Leon.

"The workers have surrounded the site," Leon reported, his voice tense. "Serena Sinclair is trapped inside the office building."

I fought to keep the smile from my lips. Of course she'd get herself into such a mess - what did she expect, marching into that construction site like she could solve anything?

Father sank in the chair, a cigar between his lips as he answered the phone, "Teach her a lesson."

"Boss, rest assured-I know what to do."

He hung up, a satisfied grin curling at the corners of his mouth. "Now, Nina, about the Whitmore family's proposal..."

I straightened in my seat, carefully arranging my expression into one of demure concern. "The engagement announcement?"

"Daniel called this morning. They want to make things official between you and Ian."

I twisted my fingers in my lap, the picture of daughterly uncertainty. "Dad, I don't think we should announce anything with Ian right now."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not? The Whitmores are one of the most prestigious families in Manhattan. This merger would be-"

"That's exactly why we need to be careful," I interrupted softly, then paused as if gathering my courage. "Have you seen how... close Serena's gotten to Lucas Harrington?"

The mention of Lucas had the intended effect. Father's jaw tightened, his fingers drumming against the desk. "Harrington? He's probably just using her to negotiate better terms."

"Maybe." I bit my lip. "But what if she's trying to use him against us? You know how vindictive she can be."

"Lucas Harrington would never seriously consider someone like her," Father scoffed, but I could see the seed of doubt taking root. "The Harringtons would never accept a woman with her... history."

I leaned forward, pressing my advantage. "But what if she convinces him to target StarRiver? We're vulnerable right now, with all the negative press. And Serena knows all our weaknesses."

Father's expression darkened as he considered the implications. The silence stretched, broken only by the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

"What do you suggest?" he finally asked.

This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I lowered my eyes, the perfect image of filial sacrifice. "I could... try to get close to Lucas myself."

"What about Ian?"

"I care about Ian," I said softly, letting my voice waver just slightly. "But I care about our family more. If being the bad guy is what it takes to protect StarRiver..." I trailed off, knowing Father would fill in the blanks himself.

"The Whitmores won't take kindly to being strung along."

"We don't have to burn that bridge yet," I assured him. "Just... delay things. Keep our options open."

I could practically see the wheels turning in Father's head as he weighed the possibilities. The Harringtons were, after all, far more powerful than the Whitmores. And Lucas... well, if Serena could catch his eye, how hard could it be?

"You'd do this for the family?" Father asked, studying my face.

I met his gaze steadily, while inside my heart raced with triumph. "Of course, Dad. We can't let Serena destroy everything you've built."