Se connecterChapter 51"I swear, your PR inbox is where corporate optimism goes to die," Alex said, leaning his hip against the edge of my desk with a tablet tucked under his arm. A slight, amused grin played at the corner of his lips. "The legal team just flagged the latest update. Lannister Global sent over a revised buyout package this morning—twenty percent higher than the last one."I didn't even look up from the fabric swatches spread across my desk. "And?""And you rejected it in under forty seconds," he chuckling softly. "Without even opening the PDF attachment. Miller from acquisitions looked like he was about to cry when he called me."I tossed my fabric shears onto the desk with a dull metallic clatter. "They just don't seem to get the memo. Sterling isn't for sale.""Camille, it was a nine-figure offer," Alex said, his voice light, but his eyes searching mine. "Most people would at least read the cover letter.""I don't care if it's ten figures," I muttered, pulling a fresh swatch o
Chapter 50The quiet of the late-night atelier was a sound I had come to crave.Soft amber light spilled over the high ceilings, reflecting off bolts of French silk, heavy velvets, and rows of dress forms standing like silent sentinels in the shadows. Classical piano music drifted softly from the small speaker on my desk, blending with the rhythmic snip-snip of my scissors against silk.I leaned closer to the mannequin in front of me, pins held lightly between my lips as my fingers worked to drape a length of emerald organza across the waistline.This room was my sanctuary. Out there in the real world, I had to be Camille Sterling—the fierce, brilliant, untouchable CEO of a rising luxury fashion house. In my head, sometimes I still had to fight off the lingering ghosts of a terrified girl who had run for her life in the dark. But right here, with fabric between my fingers and a design coming to life beneath my hands, my brain finally shut off. The noise vanished. The constant hyper-v
Chapter 49KADE LANNISTER "We’ll be wrapping up the logistics report for the East Asian distribution centers by Friday," Henderson said, adjusting his glasses as he clicked to the next slide on the wall display. "Shipping delays in Singapore have settled, but freight costs are up six percent. Overall, Q3 projections for the retail sector remain solid."I leaned back in my leather chair, resting my chin against my knuckles, letting the low hum of corporate chatter wash over me.This was my life. Solid. Right. A room full of executives pulling seven-figure salaries, and they spent forty-five minutes patting themselves on the back over a six percent margin shift."Moving on to sector acquisition," Henderson continued, clearing his throat and pulling up a fresh set of financial charts. "Sterling’s growth in the European sector is up forty percent this quarter. Their brand loyalty is... unprecedented. If Lannister Global wants to dominate the autumn market, securing a majority stake or a
Chapter 48"I’m telling you, line forty-two is a mistake," Alex said, holding a runway line-sheet above his face like a man trying to decipher ancient graphs. "The structured silk organza coat? It’s too much volume. The models are going to look like luxurious, angry clouds."I didn't look up from my laptop, my fingers flying across the keyboard. "It’s high couture, Alex. It’s meant to create volume. Not everyone wants to look like they're wearing a sleek black funeral suit, which is literally ninety percent of your wardrobe.""Hey! My suits are custom-fitted works of art, thank you very much," he scoffed, dropping the paper onto his chest and glaring over at me. "And what about the velvet shipment from Milan? The factory said the dye batch is delayed by three days. If we don't move the fitting schedule, we’re going to be stitching hemlines in the limo on the way to the venue.""Already handled," I said smoothly, taking a slow sip of my tea. "I shifted the handbag review to Thursday a
Chapter 47"I have a business degree from Columbia, five years of high-end retail strategy, and zero desire to ever work for an idiot again," Alex said, his voice dropping into a fast, persuasive pitch. "You have the talent of a god. We should build our own fashion house. You draw and create, I'll step out front, deal with the press, fight the investors, and put your name at the top of the world. Fifty-fifty."I stared at him.The warm atmosphere in the booth instantly vanished. A cold, icy wave of panic crashed over my chest.Build a fashion house? Put my name at the top of the world?My heart began to hammer against my ribs like a trapped bird. My eyes darted from his soaked clothes to his unbuttoned shirt, then to the wet briefcase on the floor.Who was this guy?A stranger walks into a greasy diner at two in the morning, sees a woman he's never met before, looks at three sketches, and offers to start a multi-million-dollar company?Was he insane? Was he a scammer trying to take my
Chapter 46The rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling glass of my office, turning the sprawling city skyline into a blur of grey and neon lights.I stood by the window, swirling a warm mug of black tea in my hands, watching the steady rhythm of the raindrops tracing paths down the glass. To an outside eye, it was a plain ceramic mug—cracked near the handle, chipped at the rim, completely out of place against the sleek, minimalist luxury of the room.It was indeed a cheap five-cent diner mug.Alex had tried to throw it out three different times over the last four years, claiming it ruined the aesthetic of our executive suite. But I kept it right there. A reminder of the night my entire world shifted on its axis—even if it had started with me thinking he was a total con artist.I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the pouring rain carry me backward.The bell above the door of Sally’s 24-Hour Diner chimed softly as cold wind whipped through the doorway.I pulled my oversized, faded g







