Chapter 2 - The same old game

“Miss Sterling, as you know, Ashford Global has been working on the Solaris District project for over a year now. We’ve narrowed our selection to just a few key design firms and individual contributors for the landscape integration. Your name came up… rather strongly.”

“That’s flattering,” I say with a small nod. “I’ve reviewed the preliminary plans and believe my designs could seamlessly elevate the district’s green spaces while maintaining the integrity of your architectural vision.”

Derek chuckles lightly, that trademark smirk of his spreading across his face. “Confident. I like that.”

“I prefer prepared,” I respond smoothly, meeting his gaze with a steadiness that makes his smirk twitch. He leans back in his chair, clearly amused, but I catch the subtle narrowing of his eyes.

“I’m curious, Miss Sterling… where did you train? Your style is familiar, yet… hard to place.” Derek asks. I allow the corner of my mouth to curl upward slightly.

“I trained in Milan. European influence can sometimes blur the lines of categorization, don’t you think?”

His gaze sharpens. He’s digging, but I’ve covered every trail. Isabella Sterling is a curated identity, spotless and intentionally built to intrigue but not reveal.

Lucas stands, extending his hand again. “Welcome aboard, Miss Sterling. I believe we’ll do great things together.”

“I’m sure of it,” I say, shaking his hand once more.

"Derek, please have the assistant show Miss Sterling her office so she can begin organizing her work space," Lucas instructs his son.

"No need, father. I'll do it myself." Derek says as he gets up and buttons his suit. Lucas looks at him, takes a breath then looks at me.

"Also, how would you like to join us for dinner? From what I understand you live alone in the city, perhaps you would enjoy a family environment." Your family is the last one I would want to have dinner with, besides, it's too soon to get so close. This issue needs to be taken with care.

"As much as I love that I still have quite a bit of work seedling in the city. My penthouse needs a lot of work and I'd like to get it over with as soon as possible. But I'll keep your invitation in mind."

Lucas nods politely, masking what I assume is mild disappointment with a courteous smile. It's obvious he is not used to people saying no to him. “Of course. Another time, then.”

Derek watches me more carefully now as he gestures toward the hallway. “Shall we?”

I follow him out of the meeting room, heels clicking in rhythm with his polished dress shoes. We move past the row of glass offices again, and I feel eyes briefly flicker toward us, curiosity, speculation. Let them wonder. Let them talk. The more attention he draws toward me, the more leverage I’ll have when the cracks start to show.

“I’ll be honest,” Derek says as we step into a quieter corridor, away from prying eyes, “It’s rare for someone new to leave such an impression on my father.”

“I suppose I should be honored,” I say lightly, glancing sideways at him. “Or maybe he just needed fresh blood for a tired project.”

He chuckles again, slower this time. “You’re sharp. But don’t mistake this place for slow-moving. Everyone here is always ten steps ahead.”

That’s what you think, I almost say, but instead, I smile. “Then I’d better be eleven.”

He leads me into a sleek, open-concept office space with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. My name is already printed on a minimalist brass plate next to the frosted glass door: ISABELLA STERLING — Architecture Lead Consultant.

“I hope this meets your standards,” he says, watching my reaction.

I take a few steps, taking in the space, dragging my fingure on the edge of the table, and looking out through the window before turning to face him.

"I'll make it work," I say as I stare at him and he stares at me, his eyes assessing me, taking me in. For a moment it reminds me of the way he looked at the old me, and that made my stomach jolt in disgust.

"Do you have time for a drink? If we are going to work together we should get to know each other better." Derek asks, a seductive smile on his face.

There’s a flicker of rage laced with the bitter taste of memory. I can still feel the chill of that rooftop night, the way he looked at me just before he disappeared to ruin my brother.

I tilt my head ever so slightly, studying him. “A drink?” I repeat, letting a hint of amusement touch my voice. “Is this part of Ashford Global’s onboarding process?”

He chuckles, unbothered. “Only for the promising ones.”

My smile tightens just slightly. Of course. The same old game. But this time, I know the rules better than you ever did, Derek.

“I’m flattered,” I say, keeping my tone light, professional with just enough warmth to keep him hooked. “But like I mentioned earlier, my schedule’s a bit chaotic.” His eyebrow shoots up in surprise. He obviesly isn't used to hearing the word no. But the plan isn't to make this easy for him, in fact, making this hard for him is the only way to make him fall in love and into the trap. "But dont worry, I already know the project which is the only thing I need to know in order to work."

Derek’s smirk falters for a split second, his eyebrows furrowing slightly at my words. He’s taken aback, but quickly smooths over the moment with a casual tilt of his head. The edge of his grin returns, though there’s a sharpness to it now, a subtle realization that I’m not as malleable as he might have thought.

“I’ll get started immediately,” I say, turning to face him again, my voice cool, professional. “The sooner I’m settled in, the sooner I can make the adjustments to the landscape design. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He hesitates. His eyes flicker over me, and I can almost hear the wheels turning in his mind, trying to figure out what kind of woman he’s dealing with this time. Not the one who folds easily or lets charm be her undoing.

Finally, he exhales, a slow breath that could be a soft laugh or something else entirely. “Fair enough. But I’ll be around, Miss Sterling. And don’t think you can keep dodging me forever.”

My lips curl into a small, deliberate smile, just enough to acknowledge the game we’re both playing. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”