On the 28th floor, Lena spread out her notes in the glass walled conference room. Ethan Cole, Nathaniel's assistant, entered with a stack of files.
"You must be Lena," he said warmly, adjusting his tie. He was younger, less polished, but sharp eyed. "I'll be helping coordinate the project."
"Good. Because your boss seems more interested in playing mind games than business."
Ethan chuckled. "That's his way. Don't take it personally."
"Noted," she muttered.
The meeting began, board members filing in. Lena held her ground, presenting Arcadia's proposal with crisp confidence. She could feel Nathaniel's gaze the entire time, burning through her slides, through her words, through her.
When it ended, applause was light but genuine. Arcadia had a shot.
Then Nathaniel rose. "Impressive," he said to the room. "But I see flaws. Big ones."
Her breath caught. "Excuse me?"
"You're betting everything on projections that won't survive the next quarter," he said coolly. "Your strategy is ambitious, but reckless. That's why Arcadia needs us."
"Or maybe Cross Enterprises needs Arcadia more than you're willing to admit."
The room fell silent. His eyes locked on hers challenging, daring.
"Careful," Nathaniel murmured, voice low enough only she could hear. "You're not ready to spar with me."
She leaned in, just enough. "Then maybe you should be the one who's careful."
His smile returned, slow and dangerous.
After the meeting, Lena escaped into the ladies' room, splashing cool water on her face. Her hands trembled despite her bravado.
Why did he get under her skin like this?
The door opened. Isabella stepped in, clicking across the tiles like a predator.
"You think you're clever, don't you?" Isabella's tone was icy. "Challenging him in front of the board. Cute."
Lena straightened. "I don't play cute. I do my job."
"You don't belong in his world," Isabella snapped. "Nathaniel doesn't need another desperate girl circling him."
The words stung, but Lena forced her voice steady. "Funny. You sound very desperate yourself."
Isabella's eyes went cold. "Stay out of my way. Or you'll regret it."
She stalked out, heels echoing.
Lena exhaled slowly, chest tight. The game was bigger and nastier than she thought.
Later, Lena was leaving the building when a sleek black car pulled up beside her. The tinted window rolled down. Nathaniel Cross sat inside, watching her with those unnerving eyes.
"Get in," he said.
She froze. "No."
"Lena." His voice dropped, rich and commanding. "You want to win? You need me."
Her heart pounded. Everything in her screamed to walk away. But something stronger a spark of defiance, of curiosity held her there.
"Five minutes," she said, sliding into the car.
The door clicked shut.
Nathaniel smiled like the hunter who had just cornered his prey.