Alexander

The boardroom was filled with the murmur of executives speaking in controlled tones, tension hanging thick in the air as Alexander Blackwood, the most ruthless and powerful CEO in the country, sat at the head of the long conference table.

But today, something was different.

Sitting comfortably in his lap was his two-year-old daughter, Gianna. With her tiny fingers clutching a bright pink crayon, she had been happily doodling all over a stack of high-value documents—financial reports, investment summaries, and contract proposals worth billions.

And Alexander?

He didn’t care.

In fact, he found himself watching her with something close to amusement, allowing her to color to her heart’s content while he listened to the dull presentations of his executives. Every so often, he glanced down, observing how her tiny hands moved with careful focus as she created a masterpiece of swirls and stars on a document that had taken weeks to finalize.

"She’s quite the little artist," he mused aloud, completely unbothered.

His board members, however, did not share his sentiment.

One of the older executives, Steven, had been shifting uncomfortably in his seat for the past several minutes. His face was red, his hands clenching and unclenching against the table as he watched in horror. Finally, his patience snapped.

“Mr. Blackwood,” Steven said through gritted teeth, his voice laced with irritation. “Those documents are critical to the company’s—”

Alexander didn’t even look up. “And?”

The casual response only seemed to push Steven further. He scoffed, shaking his head before muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable.”

The tension in the room was suffocating.

Then, before anyone could react, Steven reached forward and snatched the pink crayon straight from Gianna’s tiny hand.

The sudden action startled her, her big blue eyes going wide with confusion. She looked up at him, blinking, as if trying to understand why he had taken her crayon.

And then—

SNAP.

Steven broke the crayon in half and tossed the pieces onto the table.

The silence that followed was deafening.

For a moment, Gianna just stared. Processing.

Then, her lower lip trembled. Her small fists clenched. Her breathing hitched—

And she burst into tears.

The sound of her wailing shattered the air, piercing and heartbreaking. She clutched at her father’s suit, sobbing uncontrollably, her little chest shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks.

The entire room tensed. No one moved. No one spoke.

And Alexander?

He froze.

His expression didn’t shift, didn’t betray a single emotion. But beneath the surface, something inside him snapped.

With deliberate slowness, he turned his cold, calculating gaze to Steven.

“What,” he asked, his voice dangerously soft, “did you just do?”

Steven swallowed, his confidence faltering. “S-Sir, I was just—”

“You made her cry,” Alexander interrupted, his voice devoid of warmth. “You—broke something of hers. Stole from her. Humiliated her.”

Steven opened his mouth to argue, but Alexander’s voice dropped into something lethal.

“You have five seconds to get out of my sight.”

Steven paled. “Sir, please—”

“Four.”

“I was just trying to—”

“Three.”

“Mr. Blackwood, this is ridiculous—”

“Two.”

“I—”

“One.”

Steven barely had time to react before Alexander’s cold, measured voice cut through the room like a knife.

“You’re fired.”

Silence.

Steven’s mouth fell open. “Sir, you can’t be—”

“I said. You’re fired.”

And then—Alexander’s gaze swept over the entire boardroom.

A chilling realization settled over everyone present.

He wasn’t just talking to Steven.

He was talking to all of them.

“I want every single person in this room gone,” he continued, voice devoid of mercy. “Effective immediately. Your contracts are terminated, your access is revoked, and if you try to fight it, I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again.”

The executives all froze in horror.

“Mr. Blackwood—!” someone stammered.

“Sir, please reconsider—”

“This is insane, we didn’t even do anything—”

“You sat there,” Alexander cut in, his voice sharp as a blade. “You sat there and let it happen. You let a grown man steal from my daughter. You let him break something of hers right in front of her. And not a single one of you did a damn thing about it.”

No one could argue.

Because he was right.

“This meeting is over,” Alexander said, rising from his chair with Gianna still cradled in his arms. “Pack your things and get the hell out of my building.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t need to.

Turning on his heel, he strode out of the boardroom, his daughter still sobbing softly against his chest.

As the doors swung shut behind him, the sound of panicked, scrambling executives filled the air, their once-secure careers crumbling in a matter of seconds.

But Alexander didn’t care.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was the tiny, sniffling girl in his arms.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice dropping into something softer. “Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

She sniffled, rubbing at her teary eyes. “B-broke my cwayon…”

His jaw tightened. “I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet fury. “I’ll get you new ones. Every color you want. A whole room full of them.”

She peeked up at him, eyes watery but hopeful. “Weally?”

A rare, genuine smile tugged at his lips. “Really.”

And as he walked out of the building with his daughter in his arms, he made a silent promise—

No one would ever make her cry again.