FEBRİS
Below, the endless, humming mechanical rhythm of Silicon Valley flowed. Looking down from the top of those glass towers, that world lay at her feet—seemingly magnificent and calm from the outside, but a ruthless arena from within. The California sun shone bright in the sky, but it lacked the power to warm the steely coldness between these massive skyscrapers.
In the room, a giant floor-to-ceiling glass facade stretched out the city before Sera Stern like a painting. She was at the peak, she was powerful, and for that exact reason, she was utterly alone. Sera watched the human traffic below, resembling a swarm of ants, through the faint wisps of steam rising from her filter coffee cup. The unyielding line of her jaw and the faint, imperceptible disdain in her eyes made her resemble a queen watching over her subjects from the ramparts of her castle. Her white blazer was far from ostentatious, yet with its impeccable tailoring, it fit her body like armor.
The room went beyond minimalist; it existed in an almost uncanny emptiness. White walls, a colossal desk sitting right at the center of the room... There was no family photo on the desk, no extra pen, nor any living flower to disrupt that sterile atmosphere. Just a laptop, a black notebook, and a black leather handbag. The flawless, raw cleanliness of an operating room had been blended with technology.
Sera took another sip of her coffee without averting her eyes from the world behind the glass. At that exact moment, there was a soft knock on the door. Sera paused for a second, slowly pulling her gaze away from the city to turn it toward the door. She commanded with seamless professionalism in her voice, “Come in.”
The door opened. Anna Clark entered, her breath slightly quickened despite her efforts to control her nerves. This assistant, who had lived like Sera’s shadow for eight years, was one of the rare people who managed to survive in that room through her loyalty, intelligence, and determination. Anna caught her breath and straightened her posture, “Ms. Stern, the board is ready. They are waiting for you in the conference room.”
Sera looked at Anna. There was neither an expression of approval nor reproach in her eyes. She replied in a flat, mechanical voice, “Very well. You may leave.”
She placed her coffee cup on the empty surface of the desk. She adjusted the strap of her sapphire-crystal watch on her left wrist. With squared shoulders and a rigid posture, she walked toward the office door.
On the cold marble floor that felt like it stretched out endlessly, the sharp, distinct clicking of her black stilettos—Sera’s signature sound—echoed. An oncoming engineer caught sight of Sera; his breath hitched, his hands panicked, and he dropped the papers he was holding, summarizing the entire company dynamic in a single moment. Sera didn’t even slow down. She didn’t utter a single word, but merely glanced sideways at the man who had bent down to gather his papers from the floor.
With heavy yet confident strides, she reached the door of the conference room. As soon as Sera entered, everyone in the room stood up. With a subtle wave of her hand, Sera said, “Sit.”
The conference room was no different from Sera’s office—cold, empty, and immaculate. In the center of the room stood a large, wide table surrounded by men in suits. Some couldn’t even bring themselves to look at Sera, while others, with a self-assured posture, bore facial expressions that shouted, ‘I deserve to be here the most,’ waiting for an opportunity to win her favor.
Before long, the meeting began. The company’s head of finance stood up, adjusted his jacket, projected the graphs onto the screen, and turned to Sera with a proud yet slightly arrogant tone, “Ms. Stern, with Wall Street banks transitioning to Febris servers this week, our monthly recurring revenue has hit a record high. However, we have a problem. Due to Eastern European-based cyberattacks, our backup server costs have increased by 25% per week. Our competitors have started offering cybersecurity packages at half our price. Our profit margins are narrowing; should we consider lowering our prices a bit?”
Sera’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly, “What do you suggest we do? Lower our prices and perhaps even grovel at their feet, begging them to please work with us? Do you even realize where you are working?”
The finance director’s previously proud posture deflated, replaced by a desperate, silent floundering. In an embarrassed, hesitant voice, he muttered, “I...”
But Sera cut him off before he could finish his sentence, “This is Febris… not some ordinary cybersecurity firm. We do not lower prices. Febris is not a luxury; we are a survival necessity. Any company that leaves Febris is considered to have committed suicide in the cyber world. They are obligated to work with us. Is there anything unclear?”
The absolute certainty in Sera’s voice left no room for anyone else to speak. It was as if her final question was merely decorative, a formality, because a cold wind seemed to sweep through the room after her speech—not a chilly breeze, but a blood-curdling coldness. Sera scanned the room, and when no one spoke, she clasped her hands on the table, “Excellent. Since everything is clear, let us continue the meeting.”
Sera’s gaze shifted to the company lawyer this time. Mr. Forester was an experienced, successful attorney in his fifties. Hearing his name, Mr. Forester squared his shoulders and swallowed, trying to appear calm, but his sweating neck and his hands constantly adjusting the rim of his glasses gave him away.
Sera looked at Mr. Forester with a professional smile; beneath this smile lay a strict expectation rather than corporate courtesy. The US Federal Trade Commission claimed that Febris had established a “monopoly” by taking over core infrastructure. Furthermore, a competitor had filed a massive $20 billion lawsuit against Febris, alleging that they had stolen their source code. Sera had explicitly told Mr. Forester to handle this case, and if necessary, to corner the opposing counsel and the judge using the confidential data in Febris’s possession.
Mr. Forester cleared his throat one last time, “Ms. Stern... the opposing side has come on very aggressively in the antitrust and patent infringement case in Federal Court. They are demanding that we open all of Febris’s source codes to an independent auditor. If we open the codes, our trade secrets are gone. I was forced to ask the judge for an extension; the case has been postponed to next month. I had no other choice...”
Every trace of her previous smile vanished from Sera’s face. Deathly silence filled the room.
Sera stood up and walked over to Mr. Forester. Everyone held their breath; you could hear a pin drop, the only sound being the crisp clicking of Sera’s high heels against the floor. In a calm yet razor-sharp tone, she said, “I told you to crush the opposition and the judge, Mr. Forester. Yet, I see that all you have done is fail to win even a simple case. Empires are not built with cowards. It was a brief but pleasant experience working with you. You can collect your severance from accounting. You’re fired.”
Mr. Forester didn’t even try to explain himself. What could he possibly say after such a definitive stance from Sera? Begging or pleading for forgiveness would be useless; it would only infuriate Sera and humiliate himself further. Mr. Forester grabbed his briefcase and stood up. He said nothing as he passed in front of Sera, but gave a slight nod of his head and walked toward the door.
After the door closed, silence still dominated the room. Sera turned back to the board, “So, does anyone else want to share a failure story?”
No one spoke. Some buried their heads in the notes before them, others couldn’t even manage to take a sip of water, but no one found the courage to speak. Sera scanned the room, “Excellent. The meeting is adjourned.”
After the meeting, Sera returned to her modern yet lonely office. She opened her computer and began to work, just as a knock came at the door. Without taking her eyes off the screen, Sera said, “Come in.”
The door opened; it was Anna. Placing the files on the desk, Anna said, “Last week’s revenue chart reports and next week’s planning, Ms. Stern.”
As Sera opened and examined the files Anna brought, Anna looked up from her tablet screen and turned to her, “Ms. Stern, your vehicle is ready downstairs, waiting for you.”
Sera’s hand froze mid-air. Her eyes were still on the files, but she was no longer seeing them; it was as if she were somewhere else entirely. Surprised by Sera’s detached state, Anna raised her eyebrows slightly, “Ms. Stern, are you alright?”
Sera startled ever so slightly, like waking from a dream, tearing away from a different reality... She cleared her throat, “Yes. I am fine. If there is nothing else, you may leave.”
Though Anna tried to hide her astonishment, the curiosity in her eyes and the way she bumped into the doorknob on her way out betrayed her. Sera was alone in the room once more. Resting her elbows on the desk, she buried her face in her hands. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, adjusted her hair using her phone screen as a mirror, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door with her signature self-assured, rigid posture.
Upon seeing Sera, the chauffeur opened the rear door. Sera tossed her bag into the back seat and turned to him, “I’ll drive. You can go home, you have the rest of the day off.”
The chauffeur bowed his head, “Of course, Ms. Stern.”
Sera got into the car, fastened her seatbelt, and started the engine. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, but the stubborn, confident woman in the mirror averted her gaze from her own eyes, turning her attention to the road instead.
