The tension in Team A broke in an instant. Shoulders dropped, quiet sighs of relief slipped into the air. Across the table, however, Team B's expressions soured. They had been certain—absolutely certain—that the Conrad Adelson they knew, the cold, ruthless CEO who could cut an employee loose as easily as tearing a sheet of paper, would never let Alice off the hook for making him wait.
But instead, he had let it slide… with nothing more than a few words of apology.
What they didn't realize was that those apologies were worth more to him in this moment than firing her ever could be.
The meeting resumed. Team B presented first—their designs sharp, their pitch polished. Then it was Team A's turn, Alice taking the lead with controlled confidence, every word aimed to reclaim the ground she'd lost.
Finally, the presentations ended.
The air in the room shifted—thick with anticipation. Everyone knew what was at stake. This wasn't just another assignment; this was the biggest project of the season. And right now, every person seated around that long mahogany table was waiting for one thing… Conrad Adelson's verdict.
Finally, Conrad leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the long table.
"Both teams have presented strong concepts," he said, his tone even, revealing nothing of his decision. "The designs and ideas from each side have their merits. I'll review them further and inform you shortly which team will be assigned this project.
For now… you may all leave."
One by one, the designers rose from their seats, offering a final, respectful nod before filing out. The heavy glass door closed behind them, leaving the room quiet—except for three people.
Liam.
Conrad.
And Alice.
Alice was crouched by the far end of the table, reaching for a few papers that had slipped underneath during the meeting. She stacked them neatly, preparing to leave, when Conrad spoke—his tone almost casual.
"Did you voice record the ideas?" he asked, his eyes on Liam.
"Yes, sir." Liam stepped forward, placing a small recorder in Conrad's hand.
Alice straightened and started walking toward the door, but stopped dead when a faint click filled the air—followed by the tinny playback of her own voice.
"I'm sorry, sir. I promise this will not happen again. Please… give us a chance…"
Her eyes widened, heat rising to her cheeks. She turned sharply.
"What the—" She bit off the rest, her jaw tightening, teeth grinding in sheer disbelief.
Conrad's brows lifted in mock innocence. "What, Miss Alice?"
She took a step forward, her tone edged with outrage.
"What is this, sir? Since when do you record voices in meetings?"
Conrad rose from his seat slowly, deliberately—each movement precise, calculated. He walked toward her, his expression unreadable, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.
"From today, Miss Alice."
Alice scoffed, the sound sharp and clipped, like she was biting back a dozen things she wanted to say.
"Really?"
Conrad blinked twice, nodding with an almost childlike innocence that only made her jaw tighten.
Her eyes narrowed into slits—sharp, deadly. For a moment, she looked ready to rip into him right there in the conference room. But instead, she inhaled deeply, forced herself to turn on her heel, and walked straight for the door. Her heels struck the floor with clipped precision, each step laced with pure frustration, until the door swung shut behind her.
The silence lasted all of two seconds before Conrad broke into laughter—unrestrained and unapologetic.
"Did you see her face?" he said, leaning toward Liam, his grin wicked. One hand landed on Liam's shoulder. "I swear, she looked like she was already planning my murder."
Liam's expression was pure disgust. He shoved Conrad's hand off his shoulder and sank into a chair.
"Sometimes I honestly can't believe you," he muttered. "The CEO of Amelia—the Conrad Adelson—pulling high school–level pranks? Normally, if you don't like someone, you just give them that death glare until they want to resign on the spot. But with her…" He shook his head. "With her, you're playing games."
Conrad's laughter settled into a sly smirk. "Do you really think she gives a damn about my death stare?"
"Then just fire her," Liam shot back, leaning forward. "Like you always do. You've built an entire reputation on being the ruthless boss who'll fire an employee over a single mistake."
Conrad's laughter faded as quickly as it came, the sharp curve of his lips flattening into something far more controlled. His stance remained steady, hands tucked loosely into his pockets, but there was a weight in his gaze now—a subtle shift that demanded attention.
"Tell me something, Liam," he said, voice low but edged with steel. "Do I look stupid to you? I fire people when they don't fit in my company—when they make mistakes, when they're unprofessional. And Alice…" he paused, letting the name linger for a moment, "even if I can't stand her, she's a damn good fashion designer. One of the best in the current market. You think I'd risk losing that kind of talent just to settle some personal grudge?"
Liam's brows knit together. "But after what she did today—don't you think that was unprofessional?"
Conrad's eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth twitching—not in amusement, but in something dangerously close to annoyance. "I handed her a mountain of work last night, Liam. The kind that keeps you up till three or four in the morning. If she slipped today, maybe it's because she was still working her ass off while the rest of us were sleeping."
Conrad didn't wait for a response. Shifting his weight, he started toward the door, his measured steps echoing against the polished floor. The conversation, as far as he was concerned, was over.
Liam pushed back his chair and got to his feet, absently scratching the back of his neck, a faint frown tugging at his brows.
"Was he actually mad just now," he muttered under his breath, "or am I imagining things?"
He gave his head a little shake, almost as if to clear it. "Nope. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Best to stay out of this, Leo—those two are crazy enough as it is. And that's including Stevan." His lips twisted in a knowing smirk. "Getting in the middle of their mess? Might as well start digging your own grave."
He jerked his chin toward the door as if pointing to an invisible example. "Just look at Alice—stuck between those two brothers and she's halfway to losing it herself."
A theatrical shiver ran down his arms. "Ugh, I'm getting chills just thinking about it."
With that, he strode out of the meeting room, leaving the storm to brew without him.