Worship Him

2. Adam

2

ADAM

I lean back in my chair, surveying the room. The tension's so thick you could cut it with a knife.

My board of directors sit around the long mahogany table, their faces a mix of anger and concern.

I study their faces and take in the lines of worry that make them all seem tired and older. The bags under their eyes make it clear that they’ve had many sleepless nights recently.

I'm not worried. I've dealt with worse.

"Members of the board," I say, my voice calm and authoritative. "Let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?"

Marcus, our CFO, jumps in first. "Adam, these rumors are killing us. Our stock's taken a nosedive, and investors are panicking."

I nod, acknowledging his concern without showing any sign of distress. "And what do you propose we do about it, Marcus?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "We need to make a statement, clear the air. Show them our books if we have to."

"Absolutely not," I snap. "We're not dancing to their tune. That's exactly what they want."

Sarah, head of PR, leans forward. "With all due respect, Adam, we can't just sit back and do nothing. The media's having a field day with this."

I lock eyes with her. "And give credence to these baseless accusations? Not a chance in hell."

The room falls silent.

I can see the doubt in their eyes, but I'm not about to let that shake me.

I stand up, placing my hands on the table.

"Listen up. We're not lying to our investors. We never have, and we never will. This company was built on integrity, and that's how it'll continue to run."

"But the investigation-" Marcus starts.

I cut him off. "Let them investigate. They won't find shit because there's nothing to find."

I pace around the room, my presence commanding their attention. "We're going to weather this storm. Our tech powers half the damn world’s apps. We're not some fly-by-night operation that's going to crumble at the first sign of trouble."

"What about Destiny's company?" Sarah asks hesitantly. "The rumors are affecting her too."

My jaw clenches at the mention of her name. "That's not our concern right now. We focus on our company, our reputation. It takes priority over everything else until I decide otherwise."

"And the divorce?" Marcus ventures. The way he shifts around papers in front of him make it obvious he didn’t really want to ask.

I shoot him a glare that could freeze hell. "That's personal. It has nothing to do with this company or its operations. Are we clear?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir" echoes around the room.

"Good."

I walk back to my chair and let my gaze travel of my team once more. I make a point of pinning each of them in their chairs for a few seconds before moving on. They should be able to tell that their leader is without fear in this storm.

"Let's be clear about one more thing," I say, my voice cutting through the tension. "This company isn't just a paycheck for me. It's my legacy. We revolutionized the tech industry, and I won't let some half-assed rumors tarnish that."

Marcus shifts in his seat again, eyes darting around the room. "We get that, Adam, but perception is reality in this business. If people think there's something shady going on, it doesn't matter if it's true or not."

I sit down lean forward, locking eyes with him. "Perception can be managed. Facts can't be denied. We have nothing to hide. By not backing up or groveling, we’ll let everyone see that for themselves."

Sarah speaks up, her tone cautious but firm. "Adam, we need a strategy that addresses both the public’s perception and the facts. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will."

I nod slowly, appreciating her pragmatism even if it grates on my nerves to think of playing into anyone's hands. "Fine. We will come up with a statement that reaffirms our commitment to transparency and innovation. Highlight our recent successes, the partnerships we've secured."

"And the investigation?" Marcus asks again, not letting it go.

"Let them dig," I say, my jaw set like granite. "We'll cooperate fully because we have nothing to fear. But we're not throwing open our books for a witch hunt."

Sarah scribbles notes on her tablet. "We can organize a press conference for tomorrow afternoon. Give us time to get our talking points in order."

"Make it happen," I command.

There's a knock on the door, and one of our assistants peeks in nervously. "Mr. Ryder, you have a call from Senator Green's office."

I raise an eyebrow but don't let it show how much this could mean. "I'll take it in my office." Turning back to the room, I give one last directive. "Everyone stay focused and stay calm. We're handling this on our terms."

As I stride out of the conference room, Sarah calls after me. "Adam, about Destiny's company?—"

I pause but don't turn around. "Not now, Sarah."

Her silence tells me she's biting back more questions.

The hallways hum with activity as I make my way to my office. Conversations buzz around me—snippets about app updates and design tweaks—but they barely register.

Once inside my office, I close the door and take a deep breath before picking up the phone.

"This is Adam Ryder," I say into the receiver.

"Mr. Ryder," comes the voice on the other end. "Senator Green wants to discuss your company's role in the upcoming tech summit."

I relax slightly but remain guarded. "Set up a meeting for tomorrow morning."

When I hang up, my mind races through strategies and contingencies. My company's reputation is at stake, and I'll be damned if I let anyone drag it down. This tech summit comes at an opportune time—it can give us a chance to reassert our dominance.

But there's another weight pressing on me—a name that keeps popping up despite my best efforts to shove it aside: Destiny.

No time for that now.

I step back out into the bustling office space, ready to tackle whatever comes next head-on.

"We've got work to do," I say to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear.

And just like that, I'm back in control—where I belong.

After several hours of planning what needs to be mentioned in our company statement, I stride back to my office, feeling the familiar thrum of power in every step.

It’s a thrill I can’t deny. The board meeting's intensity still buzzes in my veins.

As soon as I sit down at my desk, my phone buzzes with a text from my assistant, Claire.

"When's a good time to meet with your lawyer?" she asks.

I stare at the message for a moment, my mind drifting to the reason I need to see Thomas in the first place.

This whole mess—the investigation, the media circus—was the catalyst that tore Destiny and me apart.

We were solid, or so I thought, until the pressure started to crack our foundation.

I type back quickly, "Thursday at 3 PM. Make it happen."

Her immediate response confirms the appointment, and I toss my phone onto the desk, leaning back in my chair.

Divorce.

The word tastes bitter, but I'm not one to wallow. Sure, there's a part of me that wishes things had turned out differently.

Destiny was—no, is—special. But life doesn't wait for anyone to lick their wounds.

My office door creaks open slightly, and Claire pokes her head in, choosing to speak to me rather than send a message this time. "Senator Green's office called again. They want confirmation on tomorrow's meeting."

"Tell them I'll be there," I say without looking up.

"Got it," she says before disappearing again.

I swivel my chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city. The view is as commanding as ever, but it doesn't hold the same thrill today.

My mind wanders back to those early days with Destiny—the late-night brainstorming sessions that turned into sunrise breakfasts, her laugh echoing in our kitchen as we tried to cook together and failed spectacularly.

"Get it together," I mutter to myself.

The truth is, I'm not moping. I don't do moping.

I'm pissed—at myself for letting things get this far and at her for walking away without a fight. And maybe a little frustrated and disappointed. I thought we’d be together forever.

But mixed feelings or not, I have a company to run and an empire to protect.

My phone buzzes again with an incoming email alert. It's from Sarah with the draft statement for tomorrow's press conference. I skim through it quickly, noting a few things that will need to be changed.

"Adam," Claire's voice comes through the intercom this time, "Thomas called too. He wants to discuss some updates before your meeting."

"Tell him I'll call him back later today."

As I glance at the framed photo on my desk—a candid shot of Destiny laughing at one of our company events—I feel a strange mix of regret and determination settle in my chest.

The feeling is gone as soon as it thinks it can nestle in my bones and spirit.

I'm Adam Ryder.

I'm not about to let anyone—or anything—take me down without one hell of a fight.

And that includes dealing with this divorce on my terms.

I print out Sarah’s draft statement and grab it, sitting down in my chair, red pen in hand. There's no room for error now; every word has to be perfect.

Just like everything else I've built from the ground up.

No distractions. No second-guessing.

Just action.