Because she refused to walk into that building unprepared.
When she finally closed her laptop, she allowed herself one honest thought.
If men like Adrian Vale believed they could move pieces without resistance…
They were about to learn otherwise.
She blinked. "I thought you would."
"I'll attend. But you built the Dockside groundwork. You know the numbers."
That was not entirely true. She knew their numbers. She did not know Vale's expectations.
"You understand what this means," Stephen added.
"Yes."
If they impressed Vale Holdings, their firm's standing shifted.
If they embarrassed themselves, they would not get another chance.
Stephen leaned back in his chair. "This isn't a charm meeting. This is precision. They'll be assessing stability."
Elena nodded.
She appreciated clarity.
But clarity did not quiet the tightening in her chest.
Back at her desk, she began building a presentation from scratch.
Not the portfolio they had sent.
Something sharper.
Something lean.
Dockside metrics.
Projected resale timelines.
Agent allocation strategy.
Local buyer behavior insights.
If Vale Holdings wanted efficiency, she would show them efficiency.
Around noon, Lila dropped into the chair opposite her desk.
"You look like you're preparing for war."
"Maybe I am."
"Relax. It's just a meeting."
Elena glanced up. "With the largest private acquisition firm in the district."
Lila raised her hands. "Okay, yes. That's slightly terrifying."
Slightly.
The rest of the day became mechanical.
Numbers.
Slides.
Forecasts.
But at 3:40 p.m., the day shifted.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered professionally.
"Elena Rossi."
A male voice responded. Smooth. Controlled.
"This is Daniel Brooks from Vale Holdings. I'm coordinating the evaluation panel."
Her posture straightened instinctively.
"Yes."
"We will require updated municipal alignment documentation from your firm prior to Thursday."
"We provided—"
"An initial file. We require more recent revisions."
Her jaw tightened.
"We sent the most current documentation available."
A pause.
"According to our records, there was an amendment filed last week."
There had been.
But it was minor.
Administrative.
Irrelevant to overall projections.
"It does not affect resale modeling," she replied calmly.
"That determination will be made by our review team."
The tone was polite.
But dismissive.
She could feel it.
"We can send it," she said.
"We need it within the hour."
Within the hour.
Her eyes flicked to the clock.
She had two active client showings scheduled.
"That timeline is tight."
Silence on the other end.
"That is the timeline."
Click.
He ended the call.
For a moment, Elena stared at her phone.
Not angry.
But insulted.
They were testing.
Not reviewing.
Testing.
Stephen appeared at her desk again.
"Problem?"
"Vale wants revised municipal alignment docs within an hour."
His brows lifted. "That's aggressive."
"Yes."
"Can we provide them?"
"Yes."
"But?"
"But they already have what they need."
Stephen exhaled slowly.
"They're checking response speed."
"I know."
She stood immediately.
"Cancel my 4:00 showing."
"You'll lose the client."
"I'll lose Dockside if I don't move faster."
He nodded once.
That was all the validation she needed.
The next forty-five minutes were controlled chaos.
She called municipal contacts.
Requested updated signatures.
Reformatted files.
Triple-checked figures.
Her fingers moved quickly, but her mind was sharper than ever.
This was not about paperwork.
This was about pressure tolerance.
When she hit send with four minutes to spare, she did not feel relief.
She felt focused.
The reply came fifteen minutes later.
Received.
No thank you.
No acknowledgment.
Just confirmation.
She leaned back in her chair slowly.
"Rude," Lila muttered from across the room.
"Deliberate," Elena corrected.
That evening, she did not go straight home.
She walked instead.
Three blocks.
Five.
Ten.
The air was cool, sharp.
She replayed the call in her mind.
Daniel Brooks.
Assistant-level.
Panel coordinator.
If that was how they tested mid-tier firms, what would the actual evaluation look like?
She did not fear scrutiny.
She feared dismissal.
Across the city, Clara reviewed internal notes.
"Rossi & Partners responded in fifty-six minutes," she said.
Adrian did not look up from his desk.
"Within tolerance."
"Most firms requested extensions."
He nodded once.
Efficient.
Hungry.
He made a small mark beside the firm's name.
Still just numbers.
Still just data.
Back on the street, Elena stopped outside a convenience store and stared at her reflection in the window.
She looked composed.
Steady.
Capable.
But beneath that, something else had surfaced.
Not fear.
Challenge.
If Vale Holdings wanted to test her limits, they would find she had plenty.
She returned home and opened her laptop again.
If they were going to examine every weakness, she would remove them first.
She worked until midnight.
Not because she was intimidated.
Because she refused to walk into that building unprepared.
When she finally closed her laptop, she allowed herself one honest thought.
If men like Adrian Vale believed they could move pieces without resistance…
They were about to learn otherwise.