Two days later, Theo’s board tried to take the knife out of Mrs. Reyes’s hand and use it themselves.
They called an emergency session under the guise of “shareholder reassurance.” The agenda was sanitized; the intent was not.
Mira wasn’t invited.
Theo insisted she come anyway.
“Sit in the observation room,” he said that morning, fastening his cufflinks with calm precision. “Not because you need permission. Because you should see what I’m fighting.”
Mira watched him, heart tight. “And what are you fighting?”
Theo’s mouth flattened. “A lifetime of people assuming I’ll trade my spine for peace.”
He glanced up at her. “I’m done.”
In the observation room, Mira sat behind one-way glass with Priya and Imani. She could hear everything through a secure audio feed.
The boardroom looked like power distilled: glossy table, skyline, everyone dressed like money.
Mrs. Reyes sat near the head. Not in the CEO chair—Theo’s chair—but close enough to suggest she still owned gravity.
Board counsel opened with a measured tone. “Given the recent publicity and ongoing litigation tied to Ms. Chen—”
Theo cut in smoothly. “The litigation is against a harasser. Not ‘tied to’ Mira. Say what you mean.”
A board member—Marcus, the booming man from the dinner—leaned forward. “Theo, investors are spooked. They’re asking if your judgment is compromised.”
Theo’s voice was even. “My judgment built this company’s valuation. If you believe it’s compromised, present an operational failure. Not a dating critique.”
Another member spoke: the navy-suited woman, Marianne, eyes tired but sharp. “This isn’t moralizing, Theo. It’s risk management. The optics suggest—”
Theo nodded once. “Optics suggest what? That a man can’t love a woman without it being a transaction? That if she cries in private, she’s unstable? That if I defend her, I’m irrational?”
Silence.
Theo continued, calm. “Those optics aren’t risk. They’re prejudice. And we’re not structuring corporate governance around misogyny.”
Mrs. Reyes’s lips curved faintly, as if he’d delivered a line she didn’t like but respected.
Counsel cleared his throat. “We have a proposal. A temporary separation of roles—CEO duties reassigned to COO while you—”
Theo interrupted, almost gentle. “No.”
Marcus frowned. “Theo—”
Theo opened a folder and slid documents across the table. “In anticipation of this conversation, I have executed a voting rights restructuring with my Class B shares.”
A ripple hit the room.
Marianne’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t do that unilaterally.”
Theo’s gaze was steady. “I can. And I did. Counsel verified. It’s filed.”
Counsel’s face tightened. “Theo, this is—”
“A poison pill,” Theo said, calm. “For anyone attempting to remove me without cause.”
Mrs. Reyes’s gaze sharpened. “You would lock the board out.”
Theo looked at her. “I would lock *you* out.”
The room went cold.
Theo continued, voice controlled. “Here are the terms. Reyes Systems will not entertain governance actions based on my personal life unless there is a demonstrable breach of fiduciary duty. In return, I will provide quarterly risk reports regarding security and communications—sanitized, ethical, compliant.”
Marianne leaned back, measuring. “And if we refuse?”
Theo’s gaze didn’t flicker. “Then you try to oust me, and you lose. Publicly. And you will explain to investors why you attempted a coup over a woman being harassed.”
Silence stretched.
Marcus exhaled. “This is aggressive.”
Theo nodded once. “Good.”
Mrs. Reyes spoke at last, voice smooth. “You’re willing to fracture relationships.”
Theo’s response was immediate. “Relationships built on control deserve to fracture.”
Mira’s chest tightened behind the glass. She’d seen Theo calm. She’d seen him protective. This was different.
This was Theo choosing himself.
And choosing her in the same breath.
Marianne’s voice cut through. “Theo, you understand what this does. It makes you untouchable.”
Theo’s mouth flattened. “No. It makes the company stable. Under leadership not subject to family politics.”
Mrs. Reyes’s eyes cooled. “So this is about me.”
Theo turned his head toward her, gaze lethal and clear. “It has always been about you.”
The board recessed for discussion.
In the observation room, Priya exhaled. “He just forced their hand.”
Mira whispered, “Will it work?”
Priya’s eyes stayed on Theo through the glass. “Yes. And it will cost him something with his mother.”
Mira’s stomach tightened. “Everything?”
Imani’s voice was quiet. “Maybe. But he chose it.”
The board returned.
Counsel cleared his throat. “By majority vote, we accept Mr. Reyes’s terms. No leave. No role reassignment. We will proceed with risk reporting.”
Theo nodded once, as if he’d expected nothing less.
Mrs. Reyes didn’t move. Her face stayed composed, but something in her posture—something almost imperceptible—shifted.
She had lost the steering wheel.
Theo stood. “Meeting adjourned.”
As the room emptied, Mrs. Reyes remained.
Theo didn’t leave. He waited until the door shut and it was just them.
Mira couldn’t hear their words now—audio cut for privacy—but she could see it: Mrs. Reyes speaking with controlled intensity, Theo listening like a wall.
Then Theo said something that made Mrs. Reyes go still.
She reached for her purse, stood, and walked out without looking at him.
Theo didn’t flinch.
But when he left the boardroom and came into the hallway where Mira waited, his face was carved from restraint.
Mira stepped close. “Theo.”
His gaze met hers, and for a second the steel slipped.
“I just ended my mother’s reign,” he said quietly.
Mira’s throat tightened. “Are you okay?”
Theo’s laugh was short and humorless. “No.”
Mira lifted her hand to his jaw, thumb brushing the edge of tension there. “Come home.”
Theo exhaled, then nodded.
And as they walked, Mira realized: the board war was resolved.
But the mother war—Theo’s oldest war—had only just reached its climax.