The boardroom of White Pharma Inc. had never felt so tense. The gleaming white table, the polished chrome fixtures, the vast windows showcasing a skyline of dominance—it all felt like a stage now. And the actors were nervous.
Twelve board members sat in high-backed chairs, their postures sharp, fingers laced, expressions unreadable. The media frenzy hadn't just caused embarrassment—it was threatening the brand's integrity, its stock prices, and its shareholders' confidence.
At the head of the table, Davis White stood, hands clasped behind his back, face carved from stone.
He had been summoned—yes, summoned—by the board for an emergency session. Something that hadn't happened in over a decade. The scandal surrounding HERBAS wasn't just a PR nightmare. It was a crack in the image of ethical innovation White Pharma had worked so hard to cultivate.
Katherine sat opposite Davis, her usual poise flickering behind a veil of damage control. She wore navy today, understated and conservative, her hair perfectly pinned. A look of a woman trying to regain control of the narrative.
"Let's begin," said Chairwoman Elora Hale, tapping her pen once against the table. She was in her sixties, the iron matriarch of White Pharma, and everyone in the room respected—or feared—her.
"I believe we all saw the press conference," Elora continued. "It's imperative we separate facts from noise. Mr. White, your thoughts?"
Davis looked at them slowly, scanning each face before he spoke. "There is no denying what's been presented. The documentation Kiefer provided aligns with the original idea submission we received. She also backed it with lab notes and traceable files. That's… hard to ignore."
A beat of silence.
One board member, Mr. Lang, leaned forward. "Then how did Katherine Samuel become the face of HERBAS in the first place?"
Katherine raised her head. Her voice was calm, but her knuckles were white beneath the table. "I built the team. I refined the commercial pitch. I was told that the initial idea lacked scalability. I adapted it."
Another member, Mrs. Vora, tilted her head. "But did you disclose the origin? That it was your cousin's proposal?"
Katherine's jaw tightened. "I had no formal obligation to. At the time, we were not family in the operational sense. She didn't even know about her ties to this company—"
Davis cut in, gently but with purpose. "Family or not, transparency matters."
"And where was your transparency, Davis?" Katherine's voice was low but sharp. "You knew about her submission. You read it. Yet you let me go forward as the lead."
All eyes turned to him.
Davis didn't flinch. "Because I believed there was still time to resolve it internally. I didn't expect either of you to take it to the press."
"And now," Elora interrupted, "the press has taken it to us."
Silence.
The screen at the end of the room flashed with slides—tweets, news clippings, public polls, stock analysis. It was an avalanche of reputation metrics, and the slope was steeply downward.
Mrs. Vora sighed. "We have investors asking whether this company still stands for ethical innovation. Whether we reward theft over talent."
Mr. Lang followed, "We have to protect our image before our stockholders take matters into their own hands."
Katherine leaned forward. "Then let me fix it. I will clarify that HERBAS was a collaborative result. I'll bring Kiefer into the leadership structure and—"
"You will not dictate that," Elora cut in, her voice steel. "Not after misleading us."
Another board member spoke, quiet but firm. "We must consider whether Katherine's actions warrant temporary suspension from HERBAS and public-facing duties."
The suggestion hit like a thunderclap.
Katherine's eyes snapped to Davis, betrayal flashing behind them. "You're going to let them sideline me?"
Davis didn't speak for a moment. Then, slowly: "I'm going to do what protects the company."
"You mean protect her," Katherine whispered.
The accusation hung in the air.
But Davis only said, "I mean protect the truth."
---
Later, in Davis's Private Office...
He sat by the window, watching the skyline dim into evening gold. A glass of untouched water on his desk. His mind was a warzone.
He knew what Katherine was capable of—ambition that sparkled and scorched. She had always played the game well, almost flawlessly. But this time, she overreached. And worse, she underestimated Kiefer.
But what tore at him now wasn't just corporate fallout. It was personal.
He remembered Kiefer's eyes during her press conference—steady, unsure of the spotlight but burning with quiet integrity. She hadn't come seeking revenge or status. She wanted justice. Recognition. Truth.
And now the company was tearing at the seams because of it.
Davis knew what had to be done. But it meant letting go of the version of Katherine he'd once defended. And it meant placing real weight behind Kiefer—publicly, powerfully, and irreversibly.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples. The board would push for a final move. The public would need clarity.
And Kiefer… would need to step into something far bigger than she ever imagined.
--