Chapter 36

Serena's POV

I leaned back in the chair in my office, my eyes scanning over the design proposal for what felt like the hundredth time. The presentation boards were spread across my desk, each one representing hours of solitary work - work I had to do alone because I couldn't trust anyone in the design department. They were all Nina's people now.

My coffee had long gone cold, but I took a sip anyway, grimacing at the bitter taste. The clock on my computer showed 2:47 AM. In less than six hours, I would be presenting this to the board. A meeting that everyone expected to be my downfall.

"Ms. Sinclair?" Vincent's voice startled me. I hadn't realized he was still here. "I brought you fresh coffee."

I managed a small smile. "You should have gone home hours ago."

"I thought you might need this for tomorrow's meeting." He set down the steaming cup, his eyes flickering over the design boards. "Everything looks amazing."

"Thank you, Vincent." I paused, considering. "For tomorrow's meeting, make sure we have enough coffee for everyone. It might run long."

"American coffee for everyone except Mr. Chapman. He prefers green tea, right?"

I nodded, impressed by his attention to detail. "Perfect. And make sure to document everyone's arrival times tomorrow."

After he left, I turned back to the window, watching the city lights blur through my reflection. Tomorrow would be more than just a presentation - it would be a chess match.

Morning arrived too quickly and not soon enough. I was already in the conference room when the first executives began trickling in. Henry Lockwood arrived first, then the rest of the senior management team. I watched their subtle exchanges - the raised eyebrows, the knowing smirks. They all expected to witness my failure today.

"Nina sends her apologies," Vincent announced from the doorway. "She'll be a few minutes late."

Perfect timing. I kept my expression neutral as I began the presentation. "Shall we start? I know everyone's time is valuable."

I clicked through the first few slides, laying the groundwork for our new direction. The collection I'd designed was a deliberate fusion of cyberpunk elements with 1960s vintage aesthetics - something that would set trends rather than follow them. With each new slide, the smirks around the table began to fade, replaced by genuine interest and, in some cases, poorly concealed surprise.

Nina chose that moment to make her entrance, her practiced apologetic smile freezing when she saw the designs on the screen.

"Perfect timing, Nina," I said warmly. "We were just getting to the market positioning strategy."

The next hour passed in a blur of presentations, questions, and barely concealed tension. When I finally clicked to the last slide, the silence in the room was deafening.

"Any questions?" I asked, knowing there wouldn't be any. The presentation was bulletproof.

"This is..." Henry cleared his throat. "Quite comprehensive."

I smiled. "I'm glad you think so. And speaking of comprehensive - I believe in recognizing excellent work. I'd like to announce a bonus structure for this project."

The energy in the room shifted instantly. I could practically see the wheels turning in their heads, recalculating their allegiances.

"For each member of the design team, a $3,000 bonus." I paused, letting that sink in. "And for Nina, who has been so... instrumental in this process, a special bonus of $50,000."

Nina's head snapped up, her eyes wide with confusion. She knew as well as I did that she had contributed nothing to this project. In fact, she had actively worked against it. But now she was trapped - accept the bonus and tacitly admit to being outmaneuvered, or refuse it and lose face.

"That's... very generous," she managed.

I continued smoothly, "I'd like to discuss our brand ambassador situation. I understand you're handling the contract renewal with Chloe Addison?"

Nina recovered quickly, her practiced smile back in place. "Yes, she's been very cooperative, and her rates are quite reasonable."

"I was thinking we might want to aim higher." I pulled up Eleanor Yates's latest campaign photos. "Her aesthetic would align perfectly with our new direction."

I watched Nina's expression carefully. There it was - that flash of dismissal, the certainty that I couldn't possibly afford Eleanor Yates.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, with the executives filing out in a markedly different mood than when they'd entered. Nina lingered behind, clearly wanting to speak with me, but I gathered my materials unhurriedly.

"Serena," she started, her voice honey-sweet. "The designs are incredible. I had no idea you were working on something so... ambitious."

I met her gaze steadily. "Sometimes the best moves are the ones nobody sees coming."

"Nina." I called out just as Nina was about to leave my office. She turned, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. "Remember, what we discussed about the endorsement changes stays between us for now."

"Of course, Serena." Nina's lips curved into what she probably thought was a sincere smile. "I completely understand the need for confidentiality at this stage."

I maintained my professional smile as I watched her leave. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed increased activity around the secretary's desk - likely observers planted by other executives. Perfect. The performance had achieved exactly what I'd intended. Now it was just a matter of time.

Back at my desk, I reviewed the decision to change StarRiver's brand ambassador. The current market position of our fashion line was, to put it kindly, unremarkable. In today's cutthroat luxury market, being average was equivalent to being obsolete. We needed both internal strengthening and external rebranding.

Eleanor Yates was the perfect choice. Her recent indie film success had caught the attention of several major fashion houses, but she hadn't signed any apparel endorsements yet. The window of opportunity was closing fast. In business, I'd learned to keep emotions out of decisions. The numbers spoke for themselves.

I picked up my phone, staring at a number I hadn't dialed in over a year. Memories of that rainy night flooded back - Jace Gillard helping me to the hospital, covering the medical bills without hesitation. We'd exchanged numbers afterward, though we'd never really stayed in touch.

The line rang three times before his familiar voice answered. "Serena. This is unexpected."

"Jace," I said, keeping my tone light. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

"For you? Never." His easy charm hadn't changed. "What can I do for Manhattan's most formidable CEO?"

"I need to connect with Eleanor Yates. I understand you're handling some of her projects." I paused briefly. "It's about a potential endorsement deal."

The silence that followed was unexpected. Jace was known for his quick responses and ready wit. This hesitation felt... deliberate.

"I see," he finally said, his tone carefully neutral. "You know, it's interesting you're coming to me about this. Wouldn't it be easier to reach out through... other channels?"