CHAPTER 5

CHLOE POV

The heavy mahogany doors of the grand ballroom swung open, revealing a stunning setup filled with white orchids, cascading fairy lights, and minimalist geometric arches glowing under the warm amber light of the chandeliers.

I stood near the edge of the reception hall, straightening the lapel of my navy blue blazer while checking every corner of the room. My eyes moved from one section to another, making sure the staff followed the timeline down to the last second. This wasn't just another wedding. It was the high-society wedding everyone had been talking about, hosted by the Vanderbilt-Hayes family. Sterling-Vanguard had spent three months trying to secure this account, only for Harper & Vance to swoop in and take it right out from under them.

Across the room, Liam stood beside a minimalist structural pillar he'd specifically designed for the entrance. He wore a crisp black tuxedo, his jacket casually draped over one arm. His dark hair was slightly messy after hours of supervising the lighting installation. He looked less like an architect and more like a high-fashion model who'd somehow ended up on a movie set.

As if he could feel me staring, Liam turned his head. His sharp gray eyes met mine across the crowded room, and a smug little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He raised his champagne flute in a silent, teasing toast to our success.

I rolled my eyes at him, but the sudden warmth in my chest gave me away. As much as his confidence annoyed me, I was starting to realize just how easily he could get under my skin.

Ten minutes later, the grand doors opened again, and two familiar faces walked in with a few other guests who clearly hadn't been invited. Ethan looked as polished as ever in his charcoal suit, with Sarah Sterling holding tightly to his arm. But the moment they realized whose wedding they'd managed to crash through their industry connections, their expressions changed. The polite smiles disappeared, replaced by pure shock.

Ethan stopped in his tracks. His eyes traveled across the floral arrangements, the perfectly timed lighting, and the massive architectural installation displaying our firm's new logo. Then he saw me.

I didn't shrink back. I didn't look away. Instead, I took a tray of champagne flutes from a passing waiter, walked straight toward them with my head held high, and gave them my brightest professional smile.

"Good evening, Ethan, Sarah," I greeted them sweetly. "Enjoying the setup? I have to say, your former employee did a pretty good job with the layout, didn't she?"

The color drained from Ethan's face. His jaw moved as he struggled to come up with a response, but nothing came out. Sarah shot me a furious look before tugging at Ethan's sleeve, clearly eager to get him away from me and into the crowd.

I watched them leave, and for the first time since that awful night at the Sterling-Vanguard gala, I felt like I'd finally gotten something back. It wasn't just about proving them wrong. It was about showing them that they hadn't destroyed me.

By midnight, the guests had left, and the massive TriBeCa loft was quiet again. The glass doors were locked, and the only sounds came from the occasional shuffle of papers as we put away the last of our clipboards and design blueprints.

"We actually pulled it off," I said, sinking into a leather chair beside the central conference table. I kicked off my heels with a dramatic groan and stretched my aching feet. "We just humiliated Sterling-Vanguard on national industry blogs."

Liam walked over from the corner shelf, carrying a stack of final client contracts that needed to be stored in the upper cabinets.

"I told you the layout would make up for any catering delays," he replied, sounding far too pleased with himself as he placed the thick stack on the mahogany table beneath a towering wooden shelf. "Though I have to admit, your orchid arrangement was surprisingly tolerable for an event planner."

"Tolerable?" I repeated, staring at him in disbelief. I grabbed a rolled-up magazine from the table and tossed it lightly at his chest. "That arrangement was a masterpiece, Vance! You should be thanking me on your knees for saving your cold, industrial designs from looking like a prison block."

Liam caught the magazine without effort and let out a low chuckle. He stepped closer to the shelf, ready to put the last of the architectural blueprints on the highest tier.

"Let's see if you can beat this layout at our next gala," he teased, stretching his arm to slide the thick leather binder onto the top shelf.

He reached a little too far. The edge of his polished dress shoe caught a loose electrical cord trailing from the floor lamp.

"Liam!" I shouted, jumping out of my chair without thinking and reaching for him.

He stumbled backward, completely losing his balance. As he fell, he caught me around the waist, pulling me down with him. We landed on the polished concrete floor in a tangled mess of limbs, our breathing uneven from the sudden fall.

I ended up flat on my back, with Liam hovering directly above me. His hands were planted on the floor on either side of my head, keeping his weight off me. Our faces were only inches apart. I could feel his warm breath against my lips, and the rapid pounding of his heart seemed to match the frantic beat of mine.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

The teasing, the arguments, the rules we'd agreed to when we started working together—all of it seemed to disappear. The empty loft felt different now, the silence between us heavier than it had been a few seconds ago.

"Chloe," Liam whispered.

His voice was lower than usual, and something in the way he looked at me sent a shiver down my spine. His gray eyes searched my face, and for once, he didn't look like the man who always had an answer for everything.

"What?" I managed to whisper, my hands resting against his chest. I could feel the solid muscle beneath his shirt.

"It wasn't an accident," Liam said quietly, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes.

"What wasn't an accident?"

"That night at the bar." A hint of hesitation crossed his usually confident face. "I didn't just happen to run into you because you were loud and drunk. I've been watching you across Manhattan's conference rooms for three years, Chloe. The moment you walked into that lounge, I knew exactly what I was doing."

My eyes widened as I stared at him. Suddenly, all the little things that hadn't made sense before started falling into place.

"You... you planned our partnership from the very beginning?"

"I planned everything," Liam murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed against my ear. "And I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."