The mansion was quiet as Jenna moved through the study, her fingers tracing the spines of expensive books she barely understood. Richard sat across from her, reviewing documents for the McDonald conglomerate, his sharp eyes scanning contracts and spreadsheets with mechanical precision. Despite the work, his gaze flicked toward her occasionally, betraying concern and something deeper — a protective instinct he rarely admitted.
"I need your opinion," he said abruptly, breaking the silence. "I'm considering a charitable investment in emerging designers. I want someone like you to advise me — to show me what matters to the younger generation."
Jenna's eyes widened. His gesture was unprecedented. "Me?" she asked cautiously, wary of traps.
"Yes, you. You're practical, talented… and I trust your taste more than anyone else's," he said, the words measured but sincere.
A flutter of pride warmed her chest. "I'll do my best," she replied, careful not to let her hope show too plainly.
But Diana was never far behind. That evening, she slipped into the mansion under the guise of a casual visit, observing the exchange between Jenna and Richard. Her eyes glinted with malice. The bond between them had begun to strengthen, and she would not allow it to flourish unchecked.
Later, Richard discovered a small sabotage — a contract he had intended to send to Jenna's review had been altered. Diana's fingerprints were subtle, but unmistakable. His jaw tightened. The war had just intensified, and Jenna remained blissfully unaware, immersed in her jewelry designs, unknowingly at the heart of the storm.