CHAPTER THREE

FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND REASONS

Imogen’s POV

“Imogen, Edan. To the conference room now.” Greg ordered turning on his heel and walking away with his tablet tucked under his arm, expecting obedience the way men like him always did.

I didn’t move, neither did Edan. We were standing three feet apart in the middle of the lobby while the other forty people were pretending to check their phones even though they weren’t good at pretending.

“Imogen, it’s five minutes gone since I called you.” Greg called out from the doorway after waiting for a while.

I made the first move before Edan followed behind, we avoided each other’s eyes but I could feel the pressure behind me the way one feels a storm you can’t see yet till the first crack of thunder.

The conference room has glass on its three sides that everyone outside could watch though Greg closed the blinds anyway, which somehow made it worse, because now it looked like a secret, and secrets in an office are never good news.

“Both of you should please sit,” he said.

We sat at the opposite ends of the long table as the wood between us could actually act as a canyon.

Greg brought out a contract with two signatures already on it, one belonging to him, and the other from someone from Belvane Health’s legal team.

The header on the paper read;

“ CAMPAIGN LEAD COMPENSATION AGREEMENT.”

“Five hundred thousand pounds each will be split between you as co-leads. Though it will be paid in tranches which includes thirty percent on signing, forty percent on launch and thirty percent on performance metrics. The Belvane device is the biggest medical launch in the country this year. The board wants your faces, names and your combined reach in order to achieve this.” Greg explained tapping the paper on the table.

“Five hundred thousand.” Edan leaned forward.

The mentioned number was hanging in the air like a held breath. I did the math in my head before I could stop myself. I immediately calculated my mother’s treatment at the specialist hospital in Geneva as her oncologist had mentioned in a voice that meant if money were no object. Five hundred thousand pounds wasn’t just a number rather it was an open door.

“This is a joke right?,” I asked.

“It’s the opposite of a joke. It’s the most generous compensation package Bright Media has ever offered.” Greg blinked.

“Anyways I don’t care what it is. I’m not working with him.” I said pushing the papers back towards him.

“Imogen, you need to reconsider….” Mr Greg muttered.

“It’s been four years and you want me to stand next to him for six months, smile for cameras, and pretend like none of it happened just because you are offering me money.” I lowered my voice as the words came out harder than I meant them to.

“Not exactly Imogen, it’s for your career, for the company and for the device that could save the patients who are in dire need of it.” Greg said without any knowledge of my mother’s health.

Edan without uttering any other word was watching me the way one would watch a lit fuse in a careful manner and waiting for the right explosion. When I finally looked at him, his expression was unreadable like he had so much going on in his mind.

“Edan, a penny for your thoughts.” Greg asked.

“For me, I’m in,” Edan replied.

“You’re in?” I asked him.

“Five hundred thousand pounds to launch a device that treats cancer. And it’s so funny to think that I’m going to walk away from that because of this….” He gestured between us and there was something unrecognizable in his voice which was not the usual tone that I had known over time/

“This is what you call it.” I repeated.

“What would you call it?” He asked nonchalantly.

“It is called betrayal.” I fired.

The word was sitting on the table between us with Greg looking from me to Edan and back again, and for the first time I saw a flicker which was not exactly confusion but the dawning awareness that there was a story behind this whole chaos which he hasn’t been told across his face.

“With this I could tell that there is a history behind all this but I don’t need to know the details. What I need is for both of you to understand that this merger is not a suggestion. The contracts are already signed. Belvane has already announced the campaign publicly and your names are on the press release that goes out tomorrow morning.” Greg informed us slowly, folding his hands.

“Pull them to end the contract because I’m not intrested.” My voice echoed through the room.

“Its too late, I can’t pull them. The board approved this at seven a.m and the announcement is scheduled for six a.m. tomorrow. If you refuse, the board will find someone else to fill your position and your seat, Imogen, is the one that built the pitch. So if you walk away, you lose everything you’ve worked for here.” Greg explained almost getting out of patience.

“What if I lose it?.” I asked.

“Then you will lose the Belvane account entirely, the pitch dies with you, there will be no device to launch and that will bridge the treatment pipeline. So think about what that entails.” Greg’s voice softened slightly.

I had to take a moment to think it through, I thought about my mother in a hospital bed, about the specialist’s voice, about the numbers on the paper. I also thought about standing in a hallway four years ago with cupcakes in my hand and a banner behind me.

“I’m not doing this, you people should find someone else.” I uttered finally.

“There is no one else. Edan, please talk to her.” Greg looked at Edan.

Edan looked at me and for one dangerous second, I could see the boy who had always assured me that I am the only one that matters to him but still the same one who had sat on that bed and told me nonchalantly that the scene before me was not that serious.

“Imogen. Take the money, the campaign, you can also hate me for it if you have to. But don’t walk away from this.” He said quietly.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” I shit at him.

“I’m not telling you. I’m asking. You built this pitch and don’t let me be the reason it dies. ” His voice stayed low and controlled, just the way it used to get when he was trying not to raise it.

Outside the glass walls, I could see people lingering near the blinds, their phones were out and it was obvious that someone was definitely filming through the gap where the blinds didn’t quite meet.

Greg noticed just in time, stood up and opened the door just enough for his voice to carry the order.

“Everyone should please get back to work. Now.” He ordered.

They all responded immediately by scattering to their different directions leaving only curiosity behind which I could feel pressing against the glass.

“This is non-negotiable. You both will sign the document by the end of today or the board will start looking for your replacements.” Greg continued the moment the door was closed again.

Just then, Edan’s chair scraped back, he stood up and for a moment I thought he was going to leave. Instead he walked around the table until he was standing close enough that I could smell the faint trace of the same cologne he had worn four years ago.

“Sign it because if you don’t and walk away then you will forever regret not taking this opportunity.” He said softly but audible enough.

My phone started buzzing in a continuous stream, I noticed that Greg’s phone lit up on the table as well as Edan’s screen glowed in his hand. Mr Greg was the first to pick him up and his face changed.

“What is the matter?” I asked.

He didn’t answer but turned the phone so we could see. The press release had gone out early with its headline reading;

“BREAKING NEWS: Bright Media announces merger and dual campaign leads for Belvane Health’s revolutionary cancer treatment device with Imogen Cole and Edan Cross.”

Scrolling down the headline, comments were already flooding in with our old photos from four years ago already resurfacing.

And somewhere in the replies, a username I hadn’t seen in years which left me dumbfounded had already typed three words:

“Miss me yet?”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE VIDEO

Imogen’s POV

I have been practicing the pitch I was to give for the campaign to kick start until the words lived in my mouth without thinking.

Arriving at the office, the conference room on the eighteenth floor was already full when I walked in. Belvane’s senior team were sitting along one side of the long table, there were two men in navy outfits and a woman with silver hair with the kind of posture that depicts that she had never once been late to anything.

Mr Greg was standing near the projector screen, smiling the way he used to when money was about to walk into the building. Edan was already there, leaning against the back wall like he owned the air but I didn’t look his way.

I opened my laptop the moment I climbed the podium, the first slide was neatly waiting, the Belvane device was rendering in soft blue light against a dark background, it has its title in white which reads;

“Rewriting the Odds.”

“You can start whenever you’re ready, Imogen,” Greg gestured at me with a smile.

When I clicked on my laptop, the screen behind me lit up before I started talking. I kept my voice steady as I walked them through the market gap, the clinical data, the emotional hook which will be used in the first wave of the content for the campaign.

I had every transition timed, as all the pulses were measured because this is the work I am actually good at and had gotten me into this room in the first place.

Halfway through the second slide, the screen started flickering, I kept clicking continuously but nothing seemed to change. The image on the screen stuttered, froze, before going blank for a second.

Just then a new video popped up, filling the entire wall. This is a video of me when I was younger, because my hair was longer there. I was sitting with my legs crossed on my old apartment floor in a tank top, my phone was held towards me as I kept twerking to music while biting my lips and making eye gestures.

“Okay, Akash, don’t you dare show this to anyone.” My voice echoed from the video.

The room was silent in an embarrassing way that felt physical. I reached for the laptop with my shaky hands. The trackpad refused to respond as the video kept playing.

Before I could manage to put off the laptop, someone near the back of the room let out a soft laugh which made me slam the laptop shut.

The screen behind me went dark immediately, but the damage was already done as every face in the room had already seen it. The silver-haired woman from Belvane had one eyebrow raised so high that it was looking permanent.

Looking at Mr Greg’s, the usual smile had vanished. And at the back wall, Edan was standing with his arms crossed, his expression carefully bearing the sharpest flicker which was visible at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, that was not part of the presentation.” My voice came out cracked as I continuously cleared my throat but no one answered.

“Imogen. Why don’t you take a moment, we will reconvene in twenty minutes.” Mr Greg said in a calm voice, stepping forward as if he was the first to recover from the entire scenario.

I thought about the timeframe he gave as if that would erase what had just happened.

I nodded, picked up the laptop and walked out of the room with my spine straight and my face empty, because if I let anything show, I was going to break in front of all of them.

The hallway outside was feeling too bright as my heels were sounding too loud while I walked towards the women’s restroom before I was able to release the first real breath.

I locked myself inside the toilet at the extreme, set the laptop on the floor while pressing both hands against my eyes until the pressure started hurting.

I thought about the video that displayed on the screen right there at the conference hall. I also thought about Akash, who I had come in contact with way back. He was a friend of a friend.

The video entails a stupid late-night exchange that should have stayed buried.

But somehow, Edan must have gotten into my files in my laptop, where I still thought it was safe, and he had timed it for the exact second I was standing in front of the people who could decide whether my mother ever got the treatment she needed and also help patients who had similar cases.

It was so obvious that he had ragebaited me and that came in a wave which was so clean that it almost felt like a relief.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, checked myself out in the mirror before stepping back into the hallway.

Stepping back into the hallway, I saw Edan waiting by the water cooler, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

“I know you went through my laptop and orchestrated that scene right,” I said in a low tone of voice which was enough that the nearest assistants couldn’t hear.

“Did I?” He asked, looking up slowly and unbothered.

“I know you played that video on purpose just to get to me.” I almost lost my patience.

“That’s a very interesting theory you have there.” He mocked.

“You think this is funny?” I fired.

“I think that if you’re going to stand in front of a room filled with important people like that to talk about rewriting the odds, then you should probably know too well to lock your files first.” He said, pocketing his phone.

“I hope this is not a game to you, because if it is, expect my return.” My hands curled into fists at my sides.

“Isn’t it? You walked into that elevator yesterday like you still owned the moral high ground. So consider this as a reminder that you don’t.” He tilted his head.

I kept staring at his calm face which still portrays the same man who had once told me that it wasn’t that serious while another girl was sitting on his bed. The same man who is now holding the other half of the only campaign that could save my mother’s life.

“You’re going to regret this,” I said.

“Am I?.” He replied as his expression shifted interestingly like he had been waiting for the war to start properly.

I didn’t answer, rather I turned and walked towards the stairwell instead of the elevator, because I needed the movement in order to buy time to think everything through.

By the time I reached the landing between floors, the plan was already forming.

And I just realized that since he wanted a war, then I am going to give him one with all my ammunition ready.

CHAPTER FIVE

SIX GIRLS AND A SMIRK

Imogen’s POV

I could not get any sleep later that night. Sitting at the edge of my bed with the city lights bleeding through the blinds, rebuilding the plan until every piece was sitting clean in my head.

Thinking about the event that happened today. Edan had used my own laptop against me. He was standing at the back of that room, watching my face while the video was playing, calm as if he was reviewing a quarterly report. It is all fine, because if he wants a war, then I’m ready for him to leave a mark that people would still be talking about next week.

By six a.m the following morning, messages were already dropping on my phone as I returned them with my plan still intact. By seven a.m, the money had moved through two separate accounts so nothing was tracing directly back to me.

By eight a.m, I saw six women looking expensive and sounding louder than necessary, who already knew exactly where to be, what to wear, and what to say. They didn’t need scripts to exhibit their jobs perfectly.

The fundraising brunch was held in the glass atrium on the twentieth floor as morning lights were pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows thereby turning the white table cloths to something almost clinical.

Belvane’s people were sitting at the front row with three mid-level investors clustering around a platter of fruit no one was eating. Greg was moving between tables with the tight smile he has been reserving for days when money was supposed to walk in and stay. Half of the marketing team were lingering near the edges, pretending not to watch Edan like he was the main event.

I arrived late on purpose but not too late enough to miss the start of the event. I chose to sit at a spot near the far windows where I could see everything unfold.

Edan was already at the front with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, as the polished version of the smile that used to undo me. He was mid-sentence about platform reach and conversion rates when the first girl walked in.

She was tall, weeding a red dress with her voice like a blade cutting through the soft jazz.

“You are Edan Cross right?” She asked.

“Yes I am. How may I help you? He turned as the smile on his face was still there, but it tightened at the edges the way it always did when something unexpected entered his carefully managed frame.

“You are owing me three thousand dollars. And you said you would transfer it last week. I’m tired of waiting.” she said, loud enough for the nearest tables to hear.

Before she could conclude her statement, another girl appeared, followed by the third person.

Within thirty seconds there were six of them, arranged in a loose semicircle that blocked the clearest path toward the elevators. One was holding her phone up like she was already recording. Another was crossing her arms and looking up at him with the kind of familiarity that made people lean in.

“You told me the same thing, after the after-party. Remember? You told me that you don’t carry cash.” The second lady said.

Confusion clouded Edan’s face slowly before the sick realization that this was not random and it was not going to stop on its own.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he started, voice still measured.

“There’s no misunderstanding as far as we are concerned. You hired us, didn’t pay and we are not leaving here unless we collect our money.” The tall lady cuts in.

The room went quiet in stages as conversations were beginning to die down mid-sentence. The chairs stopped scraping.

“Is this some sort of prank?” Someone whispered and no one answered because the women did not look like they were joking.

“What is going on here?’ Greg’s voice cut across the atrium, sharper than usual.

“Ask your star. He knows exactly what this is about.” One of the girls turned toward him without missing a beat.

I noticed Edan's jaw locked as he kept looking past the women and scanning the room the way people scan for an exit when the building is already on fire. His eyes found me at the far edge of the atrium, standing near the tall windows with a glass of untouched orange juice in my hand, but I didn’t look away.

Instead, I let the corner of my mouth lift not to a full smile but a private acknowledgment that the board had shifted and he was the one standing on the wrong side of it.

His expression changed as he was able to recognize that I was the person behind it. In that exact second, across a room full of investors and executives and half the company, he knew it was me.

“Imogen,” he said, and my name sounded like a warning and a promise at the same time.

I raised my glass a fraction, as if toasting him.

“We’re not leaving until the money enters our accounts. You can do it now, or we can keep talking in front of all these nice people. The choice is yours to make.” The tall girl said, stepping closer.

From the onlookers, someone from Belvane’s team had already pulled out a phone to record. An investor near the front was looking like he was calculating the fastest polite exit. Greg’s face had changed to a darker mood. A junior staff member from the marketing department had her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, already drafting the story she would tell later.

“This is a setup. I don’t know these women.” Edan held up both hands.

“Sure you don’t. That’s what they all say when the bill comes due.” One of them laughed.

I stayed where I was, quietly watching him as well as his reactions to the scenario before him. At some point, he stopped trying to explain and started calculating damage control instead.

Four years ago he had sat in a bed and told me it wasn’t that serious, but today the entire room was learning how serious a well-timed humiliation could be.

“Everyone, enough of this bullshit. Both of you, to the conference room. Now.” Greg’s voice rose above the noise, strained and final and he meant me and Edan.

Edan was still staring at me across the chaos, as the six women were still talking over each other, and phones still raised, with the careful image of the campaign cracking in real time under the glass ceiling.

Setting the glass of juice down, I walked towards the conference room first. And I could hear Edan’s footsteps behind me. Also there was the rising sound of Greg trying to contain a disaster that had already left the building and was heading for every group chat in the company.

Entering the conference room, the door closed behind us with a soft and final click. Greg looked between us like he was deciding which one of us to fire first and whether the board would let him do it before lunch.

“Can any of you please explain the situation that just happened downstairs,” he said.

Neither of us spoke for a while before Edan’s voice came first, with his eyes locked on mine.

“Imogen I’m sure you hired these ladies.” He said.

I met his stare and didn’t blink. He still has the same calmness he has been wearing since yesterday while my private video was playing for a room full of strangers.

“You don’t need to be upset, because you made the first move,” I said.