Chapter 4
Zora
"Legal businesses do not survive because they are clean, Ms. Krogen. They survive because someone dirtier protects them." The words cut through the conference room the moment I finish my opening statement.
I recognize the voice immediately. Raphael Devereux leans back in his chair with his arms crossed, his expression challenging as he stares directly at me. Several heads nod in agreement around the long table, and I feel the tension in the room thicken like a storm about to break.
I keep my posture straight and my voice steady. "I understand that perspective, Mr. Devereux, but I disagree with the long-term logic. We are not here to debate philosophy today. We are here to decide how this empire moves forward under new leadership."
The boardroom feels charged with conflict from the very beginning.
Rasmund sits to my right, calm and observant as always.
Sebastian occupies the seat beside him, composed and unreadable, his attention fixed on the room as though he is already calculating how every argument will end.
Across from me, Mikkel glares like he has been waiting for this moment since the will reading.
Senior advisors Mr. Magnus Thorne, Mr. Conrad Nystrom, Mr. Roman Volkov, and Ms. Elena Sokolova watch with careful expressions.
The men who remained loyal to Dad, Sergei Markovic, Leonid Orlov, and Aleksander Morelli, shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Underground operators like Ms. Ingrid Falk and Raphael Devereux do not even try to hide their displeasure.
I continue before anyone else can interrupt.
"As I was saying, we will begin preparing portions of the Krogen Group for a public offering within the next three years.
That means stricter financial audits, cleaner reporting structures, and complete separation between our public-facing operations and anything that cannot survive regulatory scrutiny. "
The room erupts almost immediately.
Sergei Markovic slams his hand on the table. "You cannot be serious, Ms. Krogen. The moment we start pulling operations apart, people will start asking questions."
Leonid Orlov nods beside him. "Your father understood that some things work because they stay connected. Visibility creates vulnerability."
Ms. Ingrid Falk leans forward, her expression sharp. "The Krogen name carries weight because people know what sits behind it. You make us public, and suddenly every regulator, journalist, and politician in the world starts digging through our books."
I keep my voice level. "I am not proposing we dismantle the empire. I am proposing we protect it."
Several faces around the table remain unconvinced.
"Public companies have access to capital markets we can't touch now." I continue. "Infrastructure projects become easier to finance. Expansion becomes easier to justify. Legitimacy opens doors that fear alone never will."
Mikkel lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Listen to her. Five years running your extraction company with your father's backing and suddenly you think you understand how this empire survives."
His eyes narrow. "Marcus built this empire in the shadows. He never would have handed pieces of it to the public."
I meet his gaze directly. "My dad left majority control to me, Uncle Mikkel. That decision was his, not mine. And while I appreciate your concerns, building ZK Extraction Group taught me that growth without structure eventually collapses under its own weight."
Mr. Conrad Nystrom shakes his head. "And what happens to the people who can't fit inside those structures? The ones who built this empire in the first place?"
"We don't abandon them." I reply. "We reorganize."
Aleksander Morelli leans back in his chair. "Public shareholders don't like ambiguity, Ms. Krogen. Neither do regulators."
"Exactly. So we create distance where distance is needed."
Aleksander's expression hardens. "And when analysts start asking questions about subsidiaries, shell companies, and unexplained capital movement?"
"We give them answers they're allowed to hear."
A humorless laugh escapes Raphael Devereux. "You sound like an investment banker, not a Krogen."
Before I can answer, Mikkel cuts in. "She talks like this because she never had to live in the world Marcus built. Her company operated with clean contracts and clean money while the rest of us handled reality."
I hold his gaze. "My company operated in war zones and hostile territories, Uncle Mikkel. There was nothing clean about it."
The room goes quiet for a moment.
I continue before anyone can interrupt. "I've reviewed every financial report from the last decade. I know exactly how much we lose every year to seizures, investigations, stalled operations, and contingency payouts. The margins are shrinking."
Ms. Elena Sokolova speaks for the first time. "And your solution is to invite regulators into our books?"
"My solution," I say, "is to build a public-facing structure strong enough to attract institutional capital while protecting the parts of this empire that actually require discretion."
Elena studies me carefully. "And the people whose livelihoods depend on the current system?"
"They keep their livelihoods." I answer. "Again, I'm restructuring the empire, not dismantling it."
The arguments continue intensely for several more minutes. Voices overlap as different factions try to dominate the conversation. Mikkel keeps inserting comments designed to undermine my credibility, questioning my age, my experience, and my understanding of the family business.
I respond to each point with facts, projections, and specific examples from both Dad’s records and my own company’s success.
The emotional weight of the room feels heavy.
Fear from those who built their lives on the old ways, resentment from Mikkel and his allies, and cautious hope from the few who seem open to change.
I feel the pressure of every eye on me, but I refuse to yield.
Finally, Mr. Roman Volkov stands up, his face flushed with anger. "If you proceed with this, I will pull my support and take my network with me. You cannot force this kind of radical change without consequences."
The room falls into a charged silence as everyone waits for my reaction.
I remain seated, calm and composed. "You are free to make that choice, Mr. Volkov.
However, you should know that I have already frozen certain accounts linked to non-compliant operations.
I have rerouted key logistics permissions and removed access for individuals who refused preliminary compliance meetings.
You mistake inheritance for unpreparedness. "
No one speaks. The silence stretches as the reality of my words sinks in. I see surprise, then reluctant respect on several faces. Mikkel looks furious but stays quiet for once.
I stand up slowly. "This meeting is adjourned.
We will reconvene in exactly one month to review the first phase of implementation.
I expect everyone to come prepared with constructive solutions rather than resistance.
The Krogen empire is moving forward, whether everyone chooses to move with it or not. "
Chairs scrape as people begin to leave. Some mutter under their breath while others cast long glances in my direction. I stay standing, meeting every look with steady confidence even though my heart races from the emotional toll of the confrontation.
As the room empties, Sebastian approaches me with a warm smile. He places a hand gently on my arm. "You did good in there, Zora. You held your ground really well."
I feel a moment of relief at his support. Then he continues, and that familiar "but" appears.
"But," he says, lowering his voice, "you should probably consider some of what Mikkel said. You are not that experienced in this particular field yet. The illegal side has nuances that your own company never had to deal with. Maybe slowing down the transition would be smarter."
Irritation surges through me. I turn to face him directly, ready to tell him exactly how I feel about him questioning my decisions right after the meeting. "Sebastian, I…"
My phone vibrates on the table, cutting me off. I glance down and see a message from an unknown number. My pulse quickens as I read the words.
"Tomorrow.
07:30 PM.
The Blackwell House.
145 Wrenford Street, Manhattan.
Masquerade Ball. Mask mandatory.
— Rinaldi"
For a moment, I stare at the screen, wondering what kind of people hide illegal dealings behind velvet masks and champagne glasses. Then again, perhaps that is exactly the point. Wealthy people have always had a talent for making corruption look elegant.
Sebastian frowns slightly. "What is it? You look surprised."
I shake my head and offer a small, casual smile. "Just some intel about hiring new experts. Nothing urgent."
He studies me for a moment longer, but I do not elaborate. My mind is already shifting toward tomorrow night and the mysterious man known as Il Fantasma.
The board meeting drained me emotionally, but this new development brings a fresh wave of anticipation mixed with caution. I wonder what kind of person Domenico Valenti truly is and whether I will be able to convince someone like him to join my side.
For now, I keep those thoughts to myself as I gather my documents and prepare to leave the room. The empire is changing, whether people like it or not, and I am determined to steer it in the right direction.