CRACKS IN GLASS

"Three memos, Julian. Three."

Margaret Adediran dropped the files onto his desk like they were evidence at a trial.

Julian glanced at the headers. All three were "revisions" to the newly launched Internal Budget Compliance Act—his first reform initiative. He hadn't approved any of them.

"Who signed off on these?" he asked without looking up.

"Your office, apparently." Her tone was sharp. "Same digital signature. Same clearance code. You're either lying, or you've lost control."

Julian leaned back in his chair, voice even. "I didn't authorize these revisions. Someone forged my credentials."

Margaret folded her arms. "Then that someone has access to the core system—and your trust. Your leadership is being questioned, Julian."

"By who?"

She tilted her head. "Everyone."

Later, Imade rushed in, a laptop in hand.

"I checked the logs," she said, pulling up Julian's profile access trail. "There was a phantom override at 2:14 a.m. Two nights ago. It didn't just edit those memos—it made it look like you wrote them."

Julian sighed. "They're getting bolder."

"We can trace it," she offered.

"No," he said, his voice low. "They'll just reroute through another ghost server. They're not trying to stay invisible anymore—they want to make me look sloppy."

"Should we pause the budget compliance rollout?" she asked.

Julian shook his head. "That's what they want. They think they've rattled me."

Board Oversight Meeting – 3rd Floor Conference Room

Samuel Okoro spoke first, clearly relishing the moment. "I move that we delay the compliance program by at least a quarter. Until Mr. King can verify his own authorizations."

Julian stared at the table, jaw tight.

Vera Oke raised an eyebrow. "We can't afford chaos in the middle of Q2. There's too much uncertainty already."

Julian finally looked up. "You're all missing the point. These edits were planted. Someone doesn't want the compliance protocols to move forward."

Margaret gave a thin smile. "Or… someone doesn't know how to run a company this complex."

That stung. He didn't flinch.

"You want proof?" Julian said slowly. "Give me forty-eight hours. If I don't trace the sabotage to its source, pause the rollout. But if I do, we launch. And you back off."

The room went silent.

Margaret exchanged glances with Samuel. Then nodded. "Forty-eight hours."

That Night – King Global Data Hub (Sub-Level)

Julian stood beside Tunde Bakare, watching a whiteboard covered in scribbles.

"This isn't just someone with admin access," Tunde muttered. "This was done through a backdoor I haven't seen in years. Probably written into the system when the company was still running on BetaNet."

"Who would know about that?"

"Old devs. Or the people who paid them."

Julian rubbed his forehead. "You think they're in the boardroom?"

Tunde's eyes didn't leave the screen. "They're above the boardroom."

Next Morning – Lagos Branch HQ (Virtual Call)

Julian tapped his pen on the desk as the Lagos branch manager stammered through a half-baked excuse.

"Sir, the reallocation memo you sent—"

"I never sent it," Julian interrupted.

"B-but it had your seal—"

"Someone is playing chess with my face on their pawns. Send me everything. Every transaction. Every department head who pushed through that change."

"Yes, sir."

Julian ended the call.

Imade stepped in. "PR wants to know if you'll comment on the delay rumors."

"No comment," he said. "Not yet. Not until I win."

48 Hours Later – Board Room

Julian dropped a printed folder in front of Samuel Okoro.

"What's this?" Samuel asked, frowning.

Julian's tone was sharp. "The IP address that authorized the false edits. It routes back to a third-party vendor… hired during your tenure as CFO."

Samuel's expression didn't change, but his eyes did.

"Don't accuse me of sabotage," he said slowly.

"I'm accusing you of negligence," Julian replied. "But if the board wants to interpret that differently…"

He looked at Margaret, who said nothing.

Vera cleared her throat. "The compliance act stays."

Julian exhaled.

One win.

But it felt like the first swing in a war he hadn't fully seen.

Later That Night

Julian sat alone in the dark, his office bathed in city light. He should've felt relief.

Instead, he felt the weight of every silent hand pulling strings behind the curtain.

A message lit up on his locked phone screen. No sender ID.

"Every move you fix reveals another piece you never knew was broken. Sleep tight, King."

Julian stared at it.

Not in fear.

But in calculated, simmering anger.