Hannah's Chance
Copyright© 2025 by jackmarlowe
Chapter 9
Hannah tried to relax over the weekend, feeling that she deserved it after her intense week in Milan. But she couldn’t help reviewing the Tanaka board document Steiner had given her, finding it a hive of useful information. Reddy’s faction was larger than she’d feared, but Chen’s influence ran deeper. The key, she noted, lay with two swing voters whose loyalty seemed tied to personal gain rather than any ideology. Information was power, and she now held a significant amount.
Monday morning arrived with a grey October drizzle. Hannah arrived early at the office, determined to maintain her newfound momentum. She noticed that Clare’s door was open and paused on the threshold, seeing her boss silhouetted against the window, staring out at the rain-slicked city. Clare turned, her expression unreadable. “Close the door, Hannah.”
Hannah obeyed, the click of the latch sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Clare didn’t sit. Instead, she paced slowly behind her desk, her eyes never leaving Hannah. “Your emails,” she began, her voice dangerously soft. “Vague on Tanaka. Vague on Keller. And still no name for this ‘major shareholder’.” She stopped, planting her hands on the polished wood. “You’ve also made a major mistake in promising Keller a detailed analysis within a week. It’s a ridiculous timescale for us to follow, you ought to have specified a fortnight at least.”
Hannah met her gaze, keeping her own voice level. “Alex is already working on the technical repositioning. A bank - Creighton Bank - is drafting the separation mechanics. The timeline is aggressive, but achievable.”
“Creighton Bank?” Clare’s eyebrows lifted fractionally. “That niche operation? Since when do you have direct access to their carve-out specialists?” She leaned forward, knuckles whitening on the desk edge. “And why was I not consulted before you committed my resources to this impossible deadline?”
Hannah held her ground. “The opportunity demanded speed. Keller was ready to walk. Maria Wallington at Creighton has the expertise and the bandwidth. I leveraged our relationship.”
“I’m still saying you could have handled this better. I hope you’re not becoming a loose cannon.” Clare’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “And Alex? You’ve assigned him critical Keller work without consulting me. What about Tanaka? You promised progress.” She tapped a finger on her desk. “I need a detailed update. Now.”
Hannah took a measured breath, choosing her words with precision. “Tanaka is complex. The board is fractured. Reddy leads a faction resistant to any external solution, viewing our involvement as a threat to his own plans. Chen, however, sees value in our strategy.” She paused, letting the division sink in. “The shareholder I met in Milan is aligned with Chen. They’re applying pressure, but it’s delicate. One misstep could tip the balance toward Reddy.”
Clare’s expression remained stony. “Delicate? You’re dangling promises to two volatile clients with overlapping crises. Alex cannot split his focus between Tanaka’s model refinements and Keller’s complete scientific repositioning. Not in five days.” She picked up a pen, tapping it rhythmically. “Prioritize. Tanaka first. Keller’s proposal can wait.”
Hannah’s pulse quickened. “Keller’s timeline is fixed. If we delay, he’ll assume weakness and walk. Maria’s bank is mobilizing now.” She leaned forward slightly. “Alex only needs to finalize the biomarker data – the heavy structuring is with Creighton. I know Tanaka’s a much bigger fish, but Chen doesn’t have a notional majority on the board as yet, so we have to wait for that anyway. Besides, their model is already functional. Minor tweaks can wait.”
Clare’s pen stilled. “What you refer to as minor tweaks may be what secures a board majority. Haven’t you looked at it that way?”
Hannah felt a flicker of irritation but kept her voice steady. “The major shareholder I presented the model to has seen enough to try and pressure the board. We have to wait to hear from them now. Rushing Alex won’t change that calculus.” She paused, letting the implication hang - she knew more about the nuances of this than Clare did. “Keller, though, is a live wire. If we miss his deadline, we lose him. Permanently.”
Clare’s eyes narrowed, her knuckles pale where she gripped the pen. “You seem to have developed an alarming habit of making unilateral decisions, Hannah. Assigning Alex, committing to Keller’s impossible demand, partnering with Creighton without my sign-off...” She leaned back, the chair creaking. “It stops now. Alex focuses on Tanaka. That’s non-negotiable. Keller’s proposal gets delayed. Contact them and let them know.”
Hannah’s stomach tightened. Delaying Keller meant losing him - and Maria’s trust. “Clare, please. The biomarker analysis is Alex’s specialty. He can—”
“I said no.” Clare’s voice was glacial. “Tanaka is our priority client. Alex works on their model until it’s flawless. Keller waits.” She stood, signaling the end of the discussion. “Update me on Tanaka by end of day. Dismissed.”
Hannah left the office, the dismissal ringing in her ears. Clare’s refusal was a brick wall - one that threatened to shatter everything she’d built with Keller and Maria. Alex couldn’t split his focus? He had to. She couldn’t lose Keller now. And she couldn’t let Maria down. She walked briskly to her desk, mind racing.
She decided to speak to Alex and called his extension, plunging ahead before doubt could creep in. “Alex, the Keller biomarker analysis is critical, whereas the tweaks required to the Tanaka model are minimal. Can you prioritize the biomarker subgroup validation first? Discreetly.”
Alex’s sigh crackled through the receiver. “Clare just ordered me to focus entirely on Tanaka. She was ... emphatic.” He lowered his voice. “She thinks you’re overstepping, Hannah. Pushing too hard.”
“I know what Clare thinks,” Hannah replied, keeping her own voice low but urgent. “But Keller’s deadline is immovable. The biomarker validation is your core skill. Tanaka’s adjustments are interface polish. Can you start the Keller work? Tonight? Off the clock?” It was a risk, asking him to defy Clare directly.
There was a pause. Then came Alex’s reluctant whisper. “I’ll try. But if Clare checks my logs...”
“I’ll handle Clare,” Hannah cut in, although she had no concrete plan to do so. “Just get me that data.” She hung up, fingers trembling slightly. Defiance tasted metallic, dangerous.
She decided to update Maria and drafted her an email, telling her that the biomarker validation was underway. She hesitated, then deleted ‘underway’, replacing it with ‘on track’. Certainty mattered now.
She opened the Tanaka board document and studied the two board members she’d identified as swing voters. She decided to let Rossi know of her findings and texted him accordingly.
The rest of the day crawled by, with Hannah occupied in catching up with routine matters after her week in Milan. After Clare had left for the day, she offered to stay behind with Alex as he worked on the Keller data, but he told her it was a solo job and her being there wouldn’t help him. Hannah left for home, knowing the risk was immense. Clare’s wrath wasn’t theoretical.
At home, Hannah poured herself a large glass of wine, feeling guilty over Alex spending his evening in the office and thinking about the alarming precariousness of her position.
She arrived at her office the following day, finding her phone ringing. It was Maria. “Hannah, Creighton’s structuring team needs Alex’s biomarker validation by midday today to lock the carve-out valuation.” Maria’s voice was clipped, efficient. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah replied. “Alex was working on it last night, but I haven’t seen him yet this morning.” She hung up and immediately dialed Alex’s extension. No answer. She hurried out of her office, to ask if anyone had seen him, and her palms grew damp as she saw him entering Clare’s office. She knew that this could mean trouble.
She returned to her desk, pretending to work while watching Clare’s door. Ten minutes later, Alex emerged, his expression unreadable. Hannah waited for him to reach his office and called his extension. “Alex, are we in trouble?”
“No, I was just giving Clare a Tanaka update, but she’s very suspicious. She seems to think we’re in cahoots or are likely to be soon. I’m not to do any work for you without her express permission.”
Hannah’s stomach dropped. “Did she mention Keller?”
“No,” Alex said, his voice tight. “But she grilled me about Tanaka refinements. Asked if I was ‘distracted’ by other projects.”
Hannah gripped the receiver. “The biomarker validation—”
“Clare specifically ordered me to focus solely on Tanaka,” he interrupted, his voice strained.
Hannah’s knuckles whitened around the phone. “Maria needs those biomarkers by midday. Keller walks without them.”
“It’s too risky,” he whispered, “Clare could walk into my office at any moment.”
“Then quickly disguise what you’re doing. Please. It’s that important.”
Alex hesitated, the silence thick. “Fine. I’ll have the Tanaka files open while I run Keller’s analysis.” He was clearly unhappy and hung up abruptly.
As the morning passed, Hannah tried to avoid looking at the clock every few minutes. At eleven forty-two Alex finally called her. “Validation complete. Biomarker subgroups correlate perfectly with Keller’s efficacy claims. The science is solid.” His voice was flat, exhausted. “I’ll send the data directly to Creighton.”
“Thank you,” Hannah breathed, relief flooding her. “You saved everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Alex muttered. “Clare asked for Tanaka progress twice this morning. She knows something’s off.” The line went dead.
Hannah immediately called Maria, asking her to confirm that Creighton had everything they needed.
“We’ve got it,” Maria confirmed, her tone brisk. “We’re locking the valuation now.”
Hannah exhaled in relief, leaning back in her chair. But Alex’s warning echoed - Clare knew something was off.
Her phone buzzed with a text. Alessandro Rossi. “Thanks for the two names. The scarab will press them.”
Before she could process the implications, she noticed an email arrive from Liam Vince. The subject of the message was “Investment Progress.” Her pulse jumped. Nothing had been heard from Vince for a couple of months, but no news had been good news. The less she heard from him the better.
She clicked on the message. Despite Vince’s reputation for volatility, his tone was surprisingly measured. He had clearly been scrutinizing his portfolio and was questioning the merits of two of the investments they had made on his behalf, referring to them as underperforming assets.
Hannah drafted a careful reply, emphasizing that he had only been with Layton Moreby for two months and that wasn’t very long in which to judge investments, especially in emerging markets. She assured him the underperforming assets he referred to were hot prospects for future growth, and then she hit the send button, hoping she’d said enough to satisfy him.
If Vince replied, she would seek further information from Alex to provide him with a more detailed response, although she knew she was already stretching her reliance on Alex beyond any reasonable limit. Hopefully Vince would stay quiet and not push any further.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. With everything else that was going on, she hadn’t yet followed up with Lena Petrova, the Nordic pension fund manager she’d met at the investor show. That potential business was something which would surely impress Clare, even though she didn’t appear to be overwhelmed by Keller or the progress she’d made with Tanaka.
On reflection, she decided to allow Lena more time to review the information she’d given her, but drafted a memo to Clare anyway to make her aware of the good contact she’d made.
The next two days passed surprisingly quietly, but then it was Friday and not just any Friday. It was the day which marked the end of Hannah’s three month trial.
She arrived at work early, her nerves taut as she checked her email. Nothing from Vince. Relief washed over her - his silence was golden. But Clare’s summons came mid-morning, sharp and unavoidable. Hannah smoothed her skirt, took a steadying breath, and walked into Clare’s office.
Clare didn’t look up. “Sit down.” Her voice was clipped. When she did finally look up, her expression was granite. “Your trial period ends today,” Clare began, tapping a pen on her desk. “You’ve shown ... audacity. Securing Vince’s capital, arranging Tanaka’s presentation, getting Keller’s attention.” Her gaze remained stony. “But audacity isn’t competence. You’ve used dubious methods, ignored protocols, bypassed approvals, and improperly pressured Alex. You’ve overstepped the mark in so many ways.”
Hannah’s throat tightened. “The results—”
“Don’t tell me the end justifies the means,” Clare cut in, her tone slicing through Hannah’s defense.
Hannah straightened in her chair. “With respect, Clare, I secured Vince’s investment when no one else could. I salvaged Tanaka’s presentation under impossible pressure. Keller’s carve-out is moving forward because I pushed.” She leaned forward, palms flat on her knees. “Alex chose to help because he saw the opportunity. Not because I pressured him.”
Clare’s eyes narrowed. “You exploited his work ethic.” Her stony face showed no signs of cracking. “And you kept quiet about being involved with Creighton Bank.”
“It all unfolded very quickly,” Hannah countered, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “Keller gave me a forty-eight hour timescale. Creighton’s partnership made meeting that deadline possible - I couldn’t have done it without them. Look at the outcome: Keller’s gene therapy is set to survive and it’s gaining a major piece of business for Layton Moreby.”
Clare’s expression remained impassive. “And the Tanaka shareholder? The one you still refuse to name?”
Hannah met her gaze. “Confidentiality protects them - and us. Revealing their identity risks undermining their influence over the board. You’ll soon see the results - Chen’s faction is gaining ground.” She paused, letting the strategic necessity hang between them. “Would you prefer transparency over leverage?”
Clare’s pen tapped again, slower now. “Your Tanaka presentation used proprietary biotech data from Keller’s files. Data Alex wasn’t authorized to repurpose.”
Hannah’s breath caught. “They demanded proof of concept. Keller’s biomarkers were the only leverage we had.” She leaned forward, voice low. “Would you have preferred that I lost Tanaka?”
Clare’s knuckles whitened around her pen. “Don’t twist this. You violated protocols. You gambled with proprietary data.” She paused, letting the accusation hang. “You don’t seem to understand boundaries. You seem to think rules are ... flexible.”
Hannah didn’t flinch. “Does Layton Moreby want deal-makers who play safe? Or winners who deliver?” She held Clare’s stare, her pulse hammering against her ribs. “I brought Vince’s capital. I’m making good progress in securing Tanaka. Keller’s carve-out is happening - because - I bent rules. Tell me another associate who’s delivered this much in three months.”
Clare leaned back, her chair creaking. Silence stretched, thick and charged. Hannah could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning, the distant clatter of keyboards. Finally, Clare spoke, her voice devoid of warmth. “Your trial period is over. Effective immediately, you’re promoted to Associate.” She paused, letting the title hang in the air. “But understand this: your leash just got shorter. No more unilateral decisions. No more pressuring Alex. Every Tanaka move, every Keller step, every breath you take on behalf of this firm crosses my desk first.” She slid a single sheet of paper across the desk. “Sign this. It outlines your new responsibilities - and the consequences for further ... effrontery.”
Hannah scanned the document. Associate title. Salary bump. But the conditions were suffocating: preapproval for all client contact, mandatory disclosure of all third-party interactions (therefore including Rossi and the Scarab Beetle), and Clare’s explicit veto on any “high-risk initiatives.” Signing felt like shackling her ambition. Yet, refusing meant unemployment. She picked up the pen, her signature a jagged line of concession. “Understood, Clare.”
The rest of Friday passed in a blur of administrative work. The morning was punctuated by an exchange of messages with Maria to coordinate the submission of the separation proposal to Keller. The afternoon drifted by dully and reached a close without anything of note happening, Hannah finding it hard to feel any satisfaction in her role now being confirmed as permanent. The salary bump was of course welcome, but her position felt very hollow without autonomy.
As she arrived home, her phone buzzed with a text. Alessandro Rossi. “Scarab pressed the names you gave us. Votes secured.”
Hannah stared at the words. Votes secured. Surely Chen now had a majority? And Tanaka was hers? The victory should have been electric, a vindication of every risk she’d taken. Instead, it felt like ash in her mouth. Rossi’s text was a transaction completed, a debt acknowledged. Steiner’s cold eyes flashed in her memory - the price paid for those votes. She dropped her keys on the kitchen counter, the metallic clatter too loud in the silent apartment.
Promotion or not, Clare had caged her. Every move now monitored, every contact to be reported. Rossi, Steiner, Scarab Beetle - they were landmines now. If Clare discovered the extent of her dealings ... Hannah poured a glass of wine, the red liquid catching the dim light like blood. She’d won Tanaka, but at what cost? Her freedom to maneuver was gone.
The wine tasted bitter on her tongue. Outside, the city glittered as it began to get dark, but it was a city of deals she could no longer chase freely. Rossi’s text haunted her - votes secured. Tanaka was hers, but Steiner’s price - the cold office floor, the humiliation - replayed in her mind. She’d traded dignity for control, and now Clare had leashed that control. A hollow victory.
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