"Hmm… one of the reasons," Sabrina said at last, her tone smooth — too smooth — curling like smoke. "But not the main one."
Her eyes didn't blink. Calculating. Almost predatory.
Julian held her gaze, unmoved.
"I'll be honest, Mr. Ashford," she continued, leaning back slightly, cup poised near her lips. "My instinct drew me to you. It's never failed me — and it's the reason I'm sitting across from you right now instead of some boardroom full of old men."
She sipped her coffee slowly, the sound of it almost deliberate — confident, unhurried.
Julian studied her. Late twenties, sharp posture, every word measured like she'd rehearsed power.
David had said half the Bundesliga worked with her.
Now, he could see why.
"Like David mentioned," Julian said evenly, fingers tapping once on the table, "you're here to assess me. What kind of asset are we talking about, exactly?"
Sabrina smiled faintly — not warmth, but amusement. "Direct. I like that."
