The penthouse was silent except for the faint hum of the city below. Lena stood rooted to the spot, pulse hammering, as Isabella glided across the marble floor like it belonged to her.
Nathaniel didn't move. He just watched the two women, expression carved from stone.
"Champagne?" Isabella offered sweetly, holding out the glass to Lena.
Lena's jaw tightened. "I don't drink with enemies."
"Wise," Nathaniel murmured.
Isabella set the glass down with a soft clink. "So tense, sweetheart. You'll wrinkle before thirty."
"I'd rather wrinkle than rot," Lena shot back.
The smile slipped from Isabella's lips for a beat. Then she turned to Nathaniel. "Are you really wasting your time with her? She's… what, an account manager? Replaceable."
Lena's stomach twisted, but she refused to flinch.
Nathaniel's gaze stayed on Lena, not Isabella. "Replaceable?" he repeated quietly.
For the first time, Isabella hesitated. "Well… yes."
Nathaniel's smile was small, sharp. "Funny. She's the only one in the room who hasn't tried to manipulate me tonight."
Lena's breath caught. It was the closest thing to praise she'd heard from him.
Isabella's laugh was brittle. "Manipulate? Darling, I've known you for years. I don't need to manipulate."
"You always manipulate," Nathaniel said, voice like silk over steel. "You just think I don't notice."
For a moment, silence pressed against the glass walls. Isabella's cheeks flushed red, but she masked it with a smirk.
"Maybe you enjoy it," she said softly.
Nathaniel's gaze didn't waver. "Maybe I've grown tired of it."
The shift in power was instant. Isabella stiffened, her confidence cracking.
Lena seized the moment. "If you're done playing house, maybe we could talk about why I was summoned here."
Nathaniel turned back to her, eyes unreadable. "You're here because Arcadia has one chance left. And you're it."
Lena frowned. "One chance for what?"
"To prove you're worth more than the company you serve."
The words landed like a strike. He wasn't talking about Arcadia anymore he was talking about her.
"And if I fail?" she asked.
Nathaniel's smile was slow, dangerous. "Then you'll learn what happens to people who gamble with me and lose."
Isabella leaned in, her perfume cloying, her voice dripping poison. "He's giving you rope, darling. Either you climb with it… or hang."
Lena's pulse spiked, but she kept her voice steady. "Then maybe I'll climb higher than either of you expect."
Nathaniel's eyes flickered, the faintest glimmer of approval or maybe warning. It was impossible to tell.
He gestured to the glass table between them. "Sit."
Lena hesitated, then lowered herself into the leather chair. Isabella sat opposite, crossing her legs with deliberate grace. Nathaniel remained standing, a general surveying his battlefield.
"This is the board," he said, placing a single folder on the table. "Inside are the terms. You'll either agree to them, or walk away. But if you walk… Arcadia is finished."
Lena's hand hovered over the folder. Every instinct screamed trap. But walking away wasn't an option.
Before she could open it, Isabella snatched the folder and flipped it open. She skimmed the first page, eyes narrowing.
"You can't be serious," she hissed at Nathaniel.
His silence was answer enough.
"What's in there?" Lena demanded.
Isabella slammed the folder shut, glaring at her. "You don't want to know."
Lena reached for it anyway. Nathaniel didn't stop her. Her fingers brushed the cool paper then paused.
She looked up, meeting his eyes. "If I read this, everything changes, doesn't it?"
Nathaniel's voice was soft, almost gentle. "It already has."
The weight of his words pressed against her chest, heavier than the city skyline beyond the glass. She pulled the folder closer, heart hammering.
But before she could open it, Nathaniel's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening. For the first time that night, his composure cracked.
Lena saw it and so did Isabella.
"What is it?" Isabella demanded.
Nathaniel didn't answer. He just slid the phone into his pocket, mask snapping back into place.
"Read the terms," he told Lena, voice low, dangerous again. "Before someone else does it for you."
The elevator chimed in the distance. Someone else was coming.
Lena froze, the folder still unopened in her hands.