Emergency Board Meeting (II)

Mr. Wright strode into the boardroom, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a physical burden. He offered a curt nod to Julian Lee, his usual confident swagger replaced by a guarded wariness.

The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the hum of the air conditioning and the tense tapping of Eleanor Vance's pen on the table.

"James," Julian began, his voice carefully neutral, "we've been waiting for you. As you are undoubtedly aware, the situation has escalated significantly."

He gestured towards the screen displaying the chaotic montage of news reports and social media outrage. "Your daughter's actions have triggered a… substantial crisis for this company."

James Wright's jaw tightened. "I am fully aware of the situation, Julian. And I can assure you that I am dealing with it… internally."

"Internally?" Eleanor Vance's voice dripped with skepticism. "With all due respect, James, 'internally' is not going to cut it. The internet is ablaze. Our stock is plummeting. Sponsors are threatening to withdraw. This requires immediate and decisive action."

"I agree," Marcus Chen chimed in, his face pale. "We need to issue a statement, a strong condemnation of Lena's behavior. We need to publicly distance ourselves from her actions."

"And what about Rhys and Heather?" Daniel Hayes interjected, his voice laced with a raw urgency. "They're the victims here! They're the ones suffering the brunt of this. We need to support them, not just worry about our bottom line."

James Wright bristled, his temper threatening to flare. "My daughter's actions are her own responsibility. Starlight Entertainment is not liable for her… indiscretions."

"That's where you're wrong, James," Julian said, his voice firm. "Your daughter's actions directly impact this company. She targeted one of our most profitable artists, and her attempt to smear Heather Grace has created a PR nightmare. We are directly affected."

"And the fact that you, as CFO, are her father, creates a perception of bias," Eleanor added, her gaze unwavering. "We need to assure the public that we are taking this seriously, that we are not condoning this behavior, regardless of family connections."

"Are you suggesting I resign?" James Wright asked, his voice dangerously low.

"No one is suggesting that, James," Julian said quickly, though his tone lacked conviction. "However, we need to consider all options. We need to demonstrate to the public that we are committed to accountability and that we will not tolerate this kind of behavior."

"I propose we issue a second statement," Marcus Chen said, his voice decisive. "A stronger statement. We need to explicitly condemn Lena Wright's actions, reiterate our support for Rhys and Heather, and announce a thorough internal investigation into any potential connections between her actions and Starlight Entertainment personnel."

"Including you, James," Eleanor added pointedly.

James Wright's face flushed with anger. "This is absurd. You're treating me like I'm complicit in my daughter's… mistakes."

"We are treating you like the CFO of a company facing a major crisis, a crisis directly linked to your family," Julian said, his voice firm but measured.

"We need to assure our shareholders, our sponsors, and the public that we are taking this seriously. And that includes a thorough and impartial investigation, regardless of where the chips may fall."

The tension in the room was palpable, a clash between personal loyalty and corporate responsibility.

The board, driven by the need to protect Starlight Entertainment's image and financial stability, was poised to make difficult decisions, even if it meant turning against one of their own.

The mahogany table, usually a symbol of Starlight Entertainment's united front, now felt like a battleground. The air crackled with unspoken accusations and the palpable fear of financial ruin.

Julian Lee's attempt at a measured tone did little to mask the steel in his eyes as he addressed James Wright, the weight of his CEO position pressing heavily on his shoulders.

"James," Julian reiterated, the word hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken disappointment, "the digital wildfire your daughter ignited shows no signs of abating. Every refresh of a news site, every scroll through social media, brings a fresh wave of condemnation. Our carefully cultivated image, built over decades, is being systematically eroded."

The large screen flickered, displaying a trending hashtag that made Marcus Chen wince visibly: #StarlightSilenceEqualsSupport.

Eleanor Vance, her legal mind already dissecting potential lawsuits and shareholder grievances, tapped her pen with increasing ferocity.

"The legal ramifications of this are potentially catastrophic. We could face shareholder suits alleging negligence in protecting our artists and our brand. Lena Wright's actions constitute clear harassment and defamation, and her connection to you, James, as a high-ranking executive, creates a direct line of liability for the company if we are perceived to be inactive."

Marcus Chen, his hands clammy, finally found his voice, his usual marketing optimism completely extinguished.

"The brand sentiment is toxic. Our analytics show a precipitous drop in positive mentions and an exponential surge in negative ones. Influencers we've cultivated for years are publicly distancing themselves. Our upcoming campaigns are in jeopardy. We're hemorrhaging credibility with every passing hour of our perceived inaction."

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "This isn't just about a few angry tweets; this is impacting our bottom line, our future viability."

Evelyn Reed's usual calm demeanor was shattered, her voice tight with barely suppressed panic. "The stock price has plummeted by fifteen percent since the news fully broke this morning. Fifteen percent, James! That's billions in market capitalization wiped out. Our investors are in a frenzy, demanding answers, demanding action. Another day of this and we could trigger a full-blown crisis of confidence."

She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "Your personal affairs have become a clear and present danger to the financial health of this company."

Daniel Hayes, the youngest member of the board and the most directly connected to the victims, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration, finally broke his silence.

"While you're all talking about stock prices and brand image, have you considered the human cost? Rhys and Heather are being subjected to a relentless barrage of online hate, fueled by lies and manipulated media. They took a brave step in releasing that video, putting themselves in an incredibly vulnerable position. And what have we done to support them? Silence. We've offered them nothing but deafening silence, which, as that hashtag clearly indicates, is being interpreted as tacit approval of Lena's actions."

His gaze locked onto James Wright.

"Rhys is one of our family, Mr. Wright. Heather is his partner. They deserve our unwavering support, not to be collateral damage in your daughter's vendetta."

James Wright shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the weight of their collective condemnation pressing down on him.

He opened his mouth to speak, to defend his daughter, to assert that her actions were her own, but the sheer force of their arguments, the cold, hard reality of the damage inflicted, held his words captive. He could feel the icy grip of fear tightening around his chest. His carefully constructed career, his position of power within Starlight, was teetering on the brink.

"James," Julian said again, his voice losing some of its earlier neutrality, replaced by a sharp edge of command, "we need to be absolutely clear here. Your daughter's behavior is not only reprehensible, but it is also a direct threat to the survival of this company. We need to act decisively, and we need your full cooperation. We need a public statement that unequivocally condemns her actions and expresses our unwavering support for Rhys and Heather. We also need a thorough and transparent internal investigation into how this situation was allowed to escalate and whether any company resources or personnel were involved in Lena Wright's campaign of harassment."

Eleanor Vance's gaze was like steel. "And that investigation, James, must include a comprehensive review of your daughter's access to company information and any communication she may have had with Starlight employees regarding Mr. Connor and Ms. Grace."

The implication hung heavy in the air: no one, not even the CFO's daughter, was above scrutiny.

Marcus Chen leaned forward, his voice urgent. "We need to act fast. Every hour of silence is costing us credibility and potentially millions in lost revenue. We need a press conference, a clear and forceful message that demonstrates we are taking this seriously and that we stand firmly with our artist and the victim of this online abuse."

The pressure mounted, a suffocating weight of expectation. James Wright could feel his authority eroding with every passing minute.

He looked at Julian, at Eleanor, at Marcus, at Evelyn, even at the usually deferential Daniel, their faces a united front of grim determination.

He knew they were right. His personal feelings, his paternal instincts, had to take a backseat to the survival of the company that had defined his life for decades.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, the fight draining out of him, replaced by a cold, hard pragmatism.

"Alright," he conceded, his voice low and strained. "You're right. We need to act. I… I will cooperate fully. Whatever you deem necessary to rectify this… I will abide by it."

The words felt like ash in his mouth, a bitter acknowledgment of his daughter's catastrophic misjudgment and his own precarious position.