Sweetheart, executives don’t wear Target blazers. Maybe sit in the back so you don’t

I sat down anyway. Slid my leather folio open. Madison’s laugh got sharper, the kind of laugh people use when they’re trying to convince themselves nothing is wrong. ‘Seriously, the new Chairman is flying in this morning. You can’t just—’ The double doors opened. In walked Gregory Brennan, founder, silver-haired, the man whose name was etched on the building. Behind him, two board members. Madison straightened her blouse and beamed. ‘Mr. Brennan, welcome. I’ve prepared the entire presentation, I think you’ll be very—’ Gregory walked past her like she was furniture. He stopped beside my chair, placed a warm hand on my shoulder, and smiled. ‘Elena. So glad you could finally take the seat. Everyone, I’d like to formally introduce our new Chief Investment Officer. She’s been consulting privately for me for two years. I asked her to spend her first week on the analyst floor — incognito — to see who actually has integrity, and who treats junior staff like dirt.’ The room went so quiet I heard the AC hum. Madison’s face drained of color in stages — pink, white, gray. ‘Wait — no, I — Elena, I was joking, we were bonding—’ I opened my folio and slid a single sheet across the table. The cold brew incident. The plagiarized memo, timestamped from the shared drive. The Slack messages where she’d called me ‘the cleaning lady cosplaying an MBA.’ Three of the junior analysts had quietly forwarded everything to me on day three. Gregory read it without blinking. ‘Madison, HR is waiting in conference room B. Your access badge has already been deactivated.’ She stood up so fast her chair hit the wall. ‘My father is going to—’ ‘Your father,’ Gregory said gently, ‘is the one who asked me to stop protecting you.’ She walked out shaking. I turned to the analysts who’d helped me — the ones she’d bullied for months — and smiled. ‘Okay. Let’s talk about your promotions.’ Sometimes the quietest woman in the room is the one signing your paycheck.