Not all Deregger CEO's are male. There are very powerful, very dangerous, very cruel female CEO's that are just as bad as their male counterparts. And their counterparts know, just like other male CEO's, you don't mess with these individuals. Fortunately, the CRC doesn't care about gender, all Deregger CEO's must one day face justice. -- Anon Guest
[AN: I do not want to fall into the trope of the "cold uncaring childless girlboss", so thanks for putting me on a seesaw over a cliff, Nonny.]
CEO Messalinia Largus loved her children. Meetings with very important people could be put on hold for a small child holding a leaf or a shiny rock. That, combined with her soft and melodious voice, made many think she was both weak and stupid.
Which was part of her plan.
Child #4 pronounced his name as "Abibbal" and might actually be what he was called. Messalinia dandled him on her knee, explaining the deal as if were a fairy tale. "These nice men want to take twelve and a half percent of my earnings in per-pet-you-it-ee because I'm buying their company. They think that's a fair deal. Do you think that's a fair deal?"
The men watching crossed their fingers under the table, waiting for some positive sign from a pre-verbal child. Many men had tried to conquer her. To bring her down to where she belonged. So many men had tried marrying her to do it, and lived long enough to sire another brat before coming to a "sad and unpreventable" demise. Some still tried it. None of the men present were going to entertain the thought.
The child giggled. Was that a good sign?
"That's right, Abibbal. They're very silly to think that I would pay them, and keep paying them for a company I already own. I think they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps." She smiled warmly at all of them. "This is a hostile takeover gentlemen. You'll be lucky to keep the clothes on your backs."
"But--"
She held up a hand. "Do you see the feathers in my hair?"
"Er. Yes?"
"Do you know which way they're pointed?"
"They're... sort of a crown."
"They're a war bonnet. That means I'm going to war. I have declared war on every lazy, undeserving, self-important, over-stuffed asshole on this miserable rock. If you want to treat me like your brood mare - I treat you like a seed bank. If you want to treat me like a fool?" Her voice lost all its flowers and showed thorns and knives. "I play you for one."
The goons turned up and took them away. Messalinia turned her attention to her son. "Those silly men didn't read what they were signing. Always read what you're signing, my love."
When the CRC came, as the CRC inevitably did, she tried to play for sympathy. She was a consummate actor, and was nearly believable.
"Oh please," she sobbed, holding her youngest against her chest and protecting the others with her body. "Please don't harm my babies? I've been doing everything I can to protect them and myself."
"And nobody else," deadpanned the CRC representative. "You could have changed this world. You could have helped people." Ze knew what her feathers meant. In all her years wearing feathers in her hair, they had never once been pointed down. Which meant that she was always ready for war.
"I-I couldn't," she said, adding a pathetic lip wobble. "I had to seem strong in front of all those mean old men. I've seen what they do to women here."
"Yes. And you were very careful to corner that market as soon as you could. Nothing changed. Messalinia Largus, we are taking you in for therapy and remedial education. Your children will be cared for and taught better ways. Come along quietly, so that nobody is traumatised."
She passed her infant off to another representative. "There's a synthetic uterus in my bedchamber. It has my next child in it." She looked them in the eye and said, "I at least tried to change that for everyone."
Records would show that she did actually try to do that. But only for the profits she could make as a result.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / oksun70]
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