Page 54 of Empowered

I glared at him to back down. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my fucking business. I promised Amelia I’d take care of you, but you have to meet me halfway. This isn’t like you. Pathetic and sulky.” He slammed his fist on my desk.

“Shut up,” I said through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on him.

He raised his index finger to the air. “Admit one thing to me—your head’s not in it anymore.”

My shoulders sagged in agreement with his assessment.

He was right. I resented the business, this life of drugs, criminals, and money. It had cost me the one thing I really cared about. I despised my family legacy. I would burn down all our factories if that meant I could leave the underworld for good and be with her.

“Then get out,” he suggested gently.

He was pissing me off. “It’s not that easy,” I spat.

“Isn’t it? Why does it have to be complicated?”

“Because I have a motherfucking empire to run.” I stood up and threw the files off my desk, sending papers scattering everywhere. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about running this business. You think it’s all parties and strippers. The fame and glory mean nothing. Sacrifice and duty is what keeps this shit running.” I was screaming so loud that I could feel the veins on my neck ready to burst.

Jai stayed seated, unimpressed with my tantrum. “And this is how you lead an empire? You’re either drinking yourself into a stupor or losing your shit when anyone even looks at you the wrong way. This is what a leader looks like?” he said, motioning toward me with his hand.

I dropped back into my chair, feeling defeated.

Jai stood up, composed, like a parent leaving his screaming child in a corner for a time out. I couldn’t bear him looking down at me with such pity for my immaturity, so I turned my head, once again diverting my gaze to the rain outside my windows.

His voice was soothing and full of concern. “You only have to stay onboard until the Brotherhood’s contingency plan ends.”Nine months.“What you do after that is up to you.”

The door clicked, signaling that I was once again alone.

The pager on my office phone buzzed. I pressed the button to connect the line to my secretary. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Sethi. You have a phone call from the CEO of TrackCloud.”

Chapter XXX

Amelia

My nerves were a mess. The waiting room was decorated in shades of light blue and white. The navy sitting chairs offered an air of seriousness to the otherwise fresh and modern décor. Silver pendant lights hung low from the ceiling, offering strategically placed focal points. On the far wall, in a large, super-modern font, was the name of the company: TrackCloud.

My heel tapped against the white oak floor as I shook my leg nervously, waiting for them to call me in. I had just completed the mandatory technical part of the interview where I had to come up with code to solve various problems asked by a member of the programming team. My answers would be graded and a member from the interview committee would be calling me in for the final part: an interview with the board members.

I was sweating under my long-sleeved white blouse and pencil skirt. I had opted for business wear instead of the developer dress code of jeans and sneakers. After three weeks of moping around the house in pajamas and gorging myself on Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, I’d needed to wear something that didn’t remind me of heartbreak and depression. Mom was so glad to have me home and had treated me delicately for the first two weeks, but then my sulking started to get on her nerves. She wasn’t impressed that her educated daughter was wasting away in her room, listening to emo songs and checking her cellphone every five minutes for messages. I pressed the SMS button so often that the damn thing froze up on me, as if trying to tell me to “calm the fuck down.”

To be honest, I was fortunate to be back in Seattle, but I had little time to enjoy it. I stepped off the plane from India and nearly collapsed into my mother’s arms when I got home. I couldn’t tell her the whole story, just a brief thing about Shyam and I breaking up because of “differences.” She knew there was more to the story but didn’t press me for more information. She let me grieve, giving me my space. Then one day, she came into my room and told me to get up and find a job. I was pissed at her for ruining my misery-party-for-one, but she was right. I couldn’t spend my life pining away for a man who could easily throw me away without even telling me why. I needed a purpose, and a job would provide me with one.

The first day I arrived in Seattle, I thought he’d at least message me to make sure my flight was okay. No text. Then the second day, I was sure he’d check on me to see if I had settled in at home. Still nothing.On the third day, I was certain he’d reach out to say he missed me as much as I missed him. Absolutely nothing. I obsessed over my need to talk to him, which made me hate myself more than I hated him for ending us. The self-loathing was the worst part. It was one thing for a man to break up with you, but to let him break you to the point of no return was pathetic. And I was the most pathetic woman of them all. That was when Mom stepped in and kicked my ass in a way only a mother could.

Apparently, she had even called Natalie out of desperation to save me from my depression. Nat had packed up all my stuff from my New York apartment and shipped everything over for me. She was also the reason I had landed this interview. One of the recruiters at TrackCloud had been in her graduating class at Caltech. She had referred me to him, and he’d called me immediately for a pre-interview over the phone.

TrackCloud was a startup that collected data to tailor social media to its user. They employed around five hundred employees and were responsible for making location check-ins and photo tagging easier. The algorithms they used were very cutting edge and the field was right up my alley. For the first time in weeks, I was excited about something and it had nothing to do with a guy. This was all for me.

“Ms. Becker.” A woman in a smart suit and dark-framed glasses stood in front of the waiting area. “They’re ready for you.”

I stood up, pressing my hands down my outfit to smooth out the wrinkles and followed her to the boardroom.

“Please come in, Ms. Becker,” a man in his mid-forties said. He had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and sat straight up with the confidence of an industry veteran.This guy must know his shit. He sat at the head of the conference table. All six seats on either side of the table were taken by the board, who would also be interviewing me.

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to walk around the table and shake everyone’s hand first or just sit down.

The man motioned for me to sit, so I chose the latter. My hands were clammy anyway so I wouldn’t have set a good impression leaving streaks of sweat on their hands.

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