Chapter 7 - The Boardroom Awakening
The executive boardroom on the fortieth floor of SkySpan Tower in downtown Atlanta smelled of expensive mahogany, fresh-brewed Colombian coffee, and unmitigated panic.
At precisely 8:00 AM the following morning, the massive glass doors swung open. The twenty-two regional vice presidents, directors of human resources, and chief safety officers seated around the custom walnut conference table snapped to attention.
Kaden Ree walked into the room.
He was no longer wearing the faded gray hoodie and scuffed canvas sneakers. Instead, he wore a razor-sharp charcoal Tom Ford suit, a crisp white shirt, and a deep navy silk tie. His dark hair was neatly parted, and every trace of the previous day's coffee burn on his thighs was hidden beneath flawless tailoring—though the faint, tender ache beneath the fabric reminded him vividly of where he had been sitting less than twenty-four hours ago.
Following right behind him, carrying a thick leather briefcase, was Kylie Vance—now wearing a sharp, professional navy blazer instead of her flight attendant uniform.
Kaden walked to the head of the long table, pulled out the high-backed leather chair, and sat down in absolute silence. He didn't touch the papers in front of him. He simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wood, and let his dark gaze sweep slowly across the pale, nervous faces of his executive team.
"Good morning," Kaden said. His voice was quiet, almost conversational, yet it commanded the absolute attention of every person in the room.
No one spoke. Sweat beaded on the forehead of Richard Sterling, Vice President of North American Operations—a man who had spent the last five years ignoring union grievances and sweeping customer complaints under the rug to boost short-term profit margins.
"Yesterday," Kaden began, his voice dropping into a register of cold, measured steel, "I boarded Flight 404 from Chicago to Atlanta. I sat in seat 28B. In the middle row. In coach."
Several executives shifted uncomfortably in their seats, staring intently at the water glasses in front of them.
"While I was sitting there," Kaden continued, his eyes locking directly onto Richard Sterling, "one of our senior flight attendants—Brianna Myers—deliberately poured a full pot of boiling dark roast coffee straight into my lap. When I objected, she called me trash, mocked my clothing, and used our PA system to humiliate a cabin full of paying passengers."
Richard Sterling cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. Ree, of course... we are deeply apologetic for this isolated incident. Obviously, disciplinary action was taken—Ms. Myers' contract has been terminated—"
"Terminated?" Kaden interrupted softly. "Is that all, Richard? Is that the extent of our corporate governance? A termination?"
"Well, sir... she had fifteen years of seniority," Richard stammered, waving a hand defensively. "Senior staff occasionally burn out. It's high-stress work. We can't vet every single personality quirk of twenty thousand employees—"
"Stop right there," Kaden whispered.
He raised his hand slightly. The door behind Kylie swung open, and two corporate auditors wheeled in a massive, rolling metal cart stacked high with thick, cardboard archive boxes. They slammed the boxes onto the center of the walnut table with a dull, heavy thud.
"What are those?" Richard whispered, his face turning the color of skim milk.
"Those," Kaden said, leaning back in his chair, "are the consumer complaints filed against Brianna Myers over the last seven years—complaints that were flagged, filed away in the basement of our Chicago hub, and deliberately ignored by your regional customer relations office because her credit card commission metrics looked good on your quarterly bonus spreadsheets."
Richard Sterling opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Every single one of those complaints," Kaden continued, his voice rising slightly in volume, "details verbal abuse, intimidation, harassment, and deliberate mistreatment of coach passengers. And your office signed off on her performance reviews year after year."
Kaden stood up slowly, leaning his knuckles against the table.
"Effective immediately," Kaden announced, his voice ringing off the glass walls, "Richard Sterling, your position as Vice President of North American Operations is terminated for gross negligence and willful blindness. Security will escort you from the building in ten minutes."
Richard stumbled backward out of his chair, his face turning purple with shock and rage. "You can't do this! I built this airline's regional network! I've been here twenty years!"
"Security," Kaden said simply.
Two corporate security guards stepped silently into the boardroom, grabbed Richard by the arms, and hauled him out of the room before he could draw another breath. The heavy glass doors clicked shut behind him.
Silence settled over the boardroom once more—a silence born of absolute, shivering terror.
May you like
Kaden turned his head and looked down the table at Kylie Vance, who was sitting quietly with her hands folded over her leather portfolio.
"Kylie," Kaden said, his tone softening into a warm, commanding pitch. "Open your briefing notes. Tell this room how SkySpan is going to fix its culture starting today."
