CHAPTER 155: HIS GIRLFRIEND

I froze, my heart racing. These were my employees, people who relied on Eclipse Beauty for their livelihood. And now, they were scared because of the choices Axel and I had made.

One of my assigned security personnel appeared at my elbow. "Mrs. O’Brien, we should get you inside."

"No." I straightened my shoulders, lifting my chin. "They deserve answers. I’m not running away."

"Ma’am, this could get volatile..."

"Then make sure it doesn’t. But I’m talking to them."

I moved closer to the crowd, and the guard reluctantly followed, speaking into his radio.

"Everyone, please," I called out, raising my voice to be heard over the din. "I know you’re scared. I know you have questions. And I promise I’ll answer them."

"Why did they target us?" someone yelled from the back.

"Is this a move by your family for putting your sister in prison?" another voice demanded.

"Are they coming back?"

"Will we have jobs after this?"

The questions came rapid-fire, overlapping, each one hitting like a physical blow. Where was Axel? I scanned the parking lot, but his car wasn’t here yet.

A man pushed forward from the crowd, older, with greying hair and work-worn hands. "My wife is terrified. She wants me to quit, says it’s not worth risking my life. But we need this job, Mrs. O’Brien. We have three kids and a mortgage. What am I supposed to tell her?"

"Tell her..." I started, but another voice cut me off.

"Tell her what? That everything’s fine? That this was just a random accident and it won’t happen again? We all know that’s a lie!"

The crowd’s energy shifted, becoming more aggressive, more hostile. People started pressing closer, and the security guard’s hand moved to his radio again.

"Everyone needs to step back now," he commanded, but his voice was lost in the growing noise.

"We deserve compensation!"

"We deserve protection!"

"We deserve the truth!"

The chant started small but grew quickly, voices joining in until it became a unified roar.

"Layla’s fault! Layla’s fault! Layla’s fault!"

I stood there, frozen, as my own employees, people whose paychecks bore my signature, accused me of destroying their safety, their security, their lives.

But not everyone was chanting.

I noticed a small group standing off to the side, watching but not participating. A young woman among them caught my eye; she looked concerned rather than angry.

I beckoned to her, gesturing urgently. She hesitated, then made her way through the crowd toward me.

"Can you get me a megaphone or something to amplify my voice?" I asked when she got close enough.

"There’s one in the security office. I’ll be right back."

While she was gone, my security guard moved closer to the crowd, helping to keep things from escalating further. His colleagues formed a loose perimete around.

The chanting continued, though it had lost some of its intensity. People were watching me now, waiting to see what I’d do next.

About two minutes later, the young woman returned, slightly out of breath, holding a battery-powered megaphone.

"Here, Mrs. O’Brien."

"Thank you." I took it, tested it once, then raised it to my lips.

"ENOUGH!"

My voice rang out across the parking lot, silencing the noise. Conversations halted, and within moments, everyone was staring at me.

I took a breath, steadying myself.

"If I stood here and told you I know exactly how each one of you feels, that would make me a liar. I can’t know your individual fears or your specific worries for your family. But what I can tell you is that I understand. I share your fear. This attack wasn’t just on a building or equipment; it was an attack on all of us, on what we’ve built together."

A few people shifted uncomfortably, but no one interrupted.

"But protesting out here, yelling and demanding answers while emotions are running high? That’s not helping anyone. We’re wasting valuable time. Time we should be spending on figuring out the next step, on making sure something like this never happens again."

I paused, scanning the crowd.

"I can’t undo what happened last night. I can’t take back the fear you felt when you heard about the attack. But I can promise you this: we will fix this. Every piece of damaged equipment will be replaced. Every security measure will be upgraded. And because I know many of you will lose sleep worrying about your safety, about your families, I’m authorising a twenty per cent raise for every single person who works at this facility, effective on your next paycheck."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, surprise replacing anger on many faces.

"I’m also giving all of you today off. Paid. Go home to your families. Hug your children. Reassure your spouses that we’re taking this seriously. And when you come back tomorrow, we’ll move forward together, stronger, safer, and more united than before."

The silence stretched for a moment, then someone started clapping. Others joined in, hesitant at first, then building to genuine applause.

The older man who’d spoken earlier stepped forward. "Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien. That’s... that’s more than fair."

"It’s the least I can do. You all deserve to feel safe at work. That’s on me and my husband to ensure, and we take that responsibility seriously."

People began dispersing, some still talking among themselves, but the hostile energy had dissipated. Several stopped to thank me as they headed to their cars.

As the crowd thinned, I spotted the warehouse manager hovering near the entrance. I waved her over.

"Mrs. O’Brien." She looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes. "I’m so sorry about all this. I tried to calm them down before you arrived, but..."

"It’s fine. They had every right to be upset." I handed the megaphone back to the young woman who’d brought it. "What’s the status inside?"

"Bad, but not catastrophic. The main production line took the worst damage. The storage area has smoke and water damage from putting out the fire. We’re looking at maybe three weeks to get back to full capacity."

"That’s too long. We need to be operational within a week."

Her eyes widened. "A week? Mrs O’Brien, I don’t think..."

"A team of private security will be arriving within the hour. They’ll secure the premises while repairs begin. I’ll have contractors here by tonight. We’ll work around the clock if we have to, but we’re getting this facility back online fast."

"Yes, ma’am."

"And make sure every employee gets the message about the raise and the day off. I want them to hear it officially, not through gossip."

"I’ll send out the notification right away."

As she hurried back inside, I pulled out my phone. Where was Axel? He’d said he was leaving the meeting early to meet me here, but that was over an hour ago.

I dialled his number. It rang once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail.

I exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with worry.

He probably couldn’t end the meeting on time. International clients could be demanding, and these deals were worth millions of dollars. Still, the timing couldn’t be worse.

I’d try his line again later. Right now, I need to get to the office and pick up those acquisition documents. Brennan needed them signed today if we were going to have those factories operational by next week.

The drive to O’Brien Group headquarters helped clear my head. I ran through mental checklists of what and who Axel needs to arrange, security protocols to implement, and supply chain adjustments to coordinate with the new factories.

I parked in the executive garage and took the private elevator straight to the top floor. The documents were in Axel’s office, so I made a beeline down the hallway, nodding at staff members who greeted me but not stopping to chat.

I pushed open the door to Axel’s office without knocking; it was technically my office too, after all.

"Is that you, Axel?"

I froze.

The leather executive chair behind Axel’s desk turned slowly, revealing a woman I’d never seen before. She was beautiful, to be honest; her makeup was perfect, designer dress, and her hair was styled in loose waves that looked effortless but definitely wasn’t.

And she was sitting in my husband’s chair, as if she owned it.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice sounding sharper than I’d intended.

The woman smiled, a slow, predatory curve of red lips. "Me? I’m Axel’s girlfriend." She tilted her head, examining me with undisguised amusement. "And you are?"

The air left my lungs.