Chapter 13

I lean back in my sleek, high-back leather chair, the soft click of my pen against my acrylic nails filling the air. Windows flood my office with natural light, reflecting off polished marble floors. A statement bookshelf, stacked with business bestsellers and shiny awards, lines one wall. A glass coffee table, complete with fashion magazines and a crystal candy dish, sits between two velvet armchairs. Because, obviously, business battles deserve a cozy front-row seat. The air smells faintly of espresso and ambition.

I twirl my pen, barely glancing up from my laptop. "Marissa, please tell me those fall design files aren't lost in the Bermuda Triangle of our shared drive. I'm not in the mood for a digital fucking scavenger hunt."

Marissa breezes in, iced coffee in one hand, tablet in the other. "Relax, boss. Got 'em right here. Filed under 'Final_Final_ActuallyFinal_3,' because apparently, we're dyslexic when it comes to naming files."

I arch a brow. "Hey, file-naming is a creative process. 'Final' is more of a vibe than a fact."

Marissa smirks. "Right. And 'ASAP' is more of a suggestion than a deadline."

I set the pen down with a soft clink. "Perfection takes time, darling. So does coffee. Speaking of—"

She lifts her cup. "Already handled. Two pumps of 'get-it-done' and a splash of 'don't-mess-with-me.'"

I chuckle. "That's why you're my favourite. Don't tell the others."

Marissa grins. "What others?"

I smirk. "Exactly."

"Now quick spin me in my chair. But do it really fast and don't push the chair and make me fall again."

Before she could do anything the door to my office banged open.

Kia storms in, her heels slicing through the silence like a battle cry. Her tailored blazer—crisp, powerful—matches the fire in her eyes. Right behind her, Hayley strides in, iced coffee in one hand, phone in the other, her smirk already loaded with sarcasm.

"Can you believe this?" Kia slaps her phone onto my desk, her voice laced with fury. "Lisa fucking Anderson is playing dirty again!"

It's time like these that I channel my inner businesswoman.

I lean back, slow and smooth, from my throne of a leather chair. My tailored suit is sharp, my heels lethal, and my lipstick? A shade called Boardroom Bloodbath. I tap my pen against my lips, eyes flashing. "Lisa. Anderson." I say her name like it tastes bitter. "She really woke up and chose irrelevance."

Marissa joins in and walks to stand beside me, coffee in one hand, sarcasm in the other. "So, what's today's episode of Lisa's Bad Decisions: Business Edition?" She glances at the screen, then whistles. "Messy. Stealing suppliers? Cute. I guess originality is still on backorder for her."

"Lisa fucking Anderson bought out our fabric supplier. Our entire shipment? 'Delayed', which is rich, considering it was in transit yesterday." Kia rages.

Hayley, scrolling on her tablet, doesn't even look up. "If Lisa were a movie, the reviews would be in: 'Overhyped, underwhelming, and 100% plagiarized. Zero stars. Would not recommend.'"

I smirk and say, "It would be the only movie where you would have to pay to exit the cinema, only movie to have an exit ticket."

Kia's voice is tight, lethal. "I say we don't just clap back. We burn her little house of cards." She turns to me, sharp and expectant. "Iliana. What's the play?"

I stand, the soft clink of my heels against marble filling the room. The air shifts. When I speak, my voice is low, measured, dangerous. "She stole our supplier. So let's make her choke on it." I meet Kia's gaze, my eyes like polished steel. "You ready to get your hands dirty?"

Kia's grin is wolfish. "I was hoping for a workout."

I map out the war plan, cold and clean.

"Hayley: Feed the press a little scandal. An anonymous tip about Lisa's shiny new supplier, sweatshop rumors and labor violations."

"Marissa: Leak a 'sneak peek' of our fall concept fake, obviously. Let Lisa rush to knock off the wrong line."

Marissa straightens up, eyes glittering. "I'll 'accidentally' leak our new fall concept. Let her think she's got the inside track." She smirks.

I nod. "Perfect. And Kia Call our backup supplier. Lock in exclusivity. When Lisa tries to jump ship—"

"She'll drown," Kia finishes, eyes blazing. "Got it."

Kia's eyes glint. "When she releases her knockoff—"

"We'll drop the real collection and the mic," I finish, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Our collection limited, sustainable, and—"

"—Already sold out," Marissa adds. "I'll warm up the 'Due to high demand' email."

Hayley sips her coffee. "And Lisa?"

Kia smiles coldly. "She'll be too busy cleaning up her PR disaster to notice her empire crumbling from under her stilettos.

But I'm not done. My lips curve, wicked and slow. "Also... we'll host a pre-launch dinner for our top clients. Intimate. Exclusive. A little taste before the main event. We make them crave it—"

"—And ensure they're ours before Lisa even shows up to the party," Kia smirks. "Smart."

She pauses, then grins wider. "And let's do it at... Rey."

I freeze. My heartbeat does a little somersault. "Zaden's restaurant ?" I say, a little too quickly.

Uninvited, memories from the ball last week flood in—his strong arms around my waist, the slow, burning trace of his thumb circling my hip bone. My skin practically remembers him.

But since then? Silence. No text. No call. And he has my number now—no excuses. So what's his move? Is he playing it cool or playing with me? Or is he just uninterested? I have no idea what's running through that frustratingly unreadable mind of his.

Kia's eyes flicker with amusement. "Yeah. Best ambience, best food, best wine... and, oh, the best company, right?"

Marissa catches my one-second blush and pounces, her grin feral. "Ooooh. Zaden, huh? This plan just got spicy."

Hayley, deadpan: "So, dinner... with a side of sexual tension."

I roll my eyes, trying to will away the heat creeping up my neck. "Can we focus? This is about the launch, not—"

Kia interrupts, smirking. "—Not your pathetic high school love life? Please, Iliana. I know you."

I narrow my eyes, but traitorously my lips twitch with the faintest smirk. "Fine. Zaden's restaurant. But it's strictly business." My finger stabs the air at them, sharp and warning. "And if anyone—I repeat, anyone utters something they shouldn't, I will fire you. Before you open your mouth, pause. Ask yourself: Does this comment need to exist? Is it necessary? Will it improve your life expectancy? Will it solve any global issues? If not kindly shut the fuck up"

Marissa, with her usual devilish grin, doesn't miss a beat. "Okay, but... what if I use hand gestures instead? Is that fireable?" She pauses and, with obscene dedication, forms a circle with her thumb and index finger and slowly slides her other index finger through it. "Like, y'know... this? While you're talking to him?"

I freeze, my jaw tightening. "Marissa!"

Hayley, scrolling on her phone, barely looks up. "Can I tweet about it? Something tasteful. Like... 'When the business dinner's giving more 'date night' than 'deal night.' #ZadeLiana #ChemistrySoThickICanBottleIt'"

I shoot her a death glare.

She shrugs. "What? I'll limit it to one emoji."

Kia, arms crossed and eyes glinting with mischief, tilts her head. "I'm just wondering... how many minutes into dinner before you start blushing like a chardonnay-stained napkin?"

She grins wider. "Or wait, even better how red will you get if he pulls that 'hand on the small of your back' move again? I'm betting... sunset pink."

Marissa, delighted: "I say cherry red."

Hayley, calm as ever: "Deep cabernet."

I slam my hands down on my desk. "All of you, I'm launching a complaint against you. Have fun with the dementors in prison assholes."

Hayley, already typing: "Live-tweeting this exit. #OppressedByMyBoss #JusticeForHandGestures"

Kia, smirking as she heads for the door: "Can't wait for dinner, partner."

The door closes behind them, their laughter trailing like smoke.

Stupid daughters of assholes.

I sit down on my chair and look down at my computer screen. It has  Lisa's article open still, with her picture staring at me right through the screen.

I grimaced. Ew man. You can't be ugly at heart and be brainless.