Chapter 5 Do You Want Me To Get Involved

When Dayna arrived on the executive floor, Clara was waiting by the door, nerves showing in her posture.

Clara's warning was quick and quiet. "Tread lightly. Mr. Roberts's in a foul mood."

With a nod, Dayna straightened her shoulders and entered the office.

"Dad-" She didn't even get the word out before a magazine sailed across the room, the edge catching her cheek and leaving a thin sting behind.

Glenn stood rigid behind his desk, eyes blazing. "What is this, Dayna? Care to explain?"

Vincent might have managed to scrub the story from the Internet overnight, but there was no calling back print. One of those magazines had landed right here, in Glenn's hands.

A cold gleam passed through Dayna's gaze. "If I told you Michael did this on purpose, that none of it was my fault, would you believe me?"

"None of it was your fault?" Glenn slammed a palm on the desk, pointing a finger straight at her. "You're not just any employee. You're Roberts Group's director and head designer. You know exactly how Apex Entertainment's media works. If Michael stirs up trouble, the whole family suffers!"

Her face stayed blank, voice steady. "If you're worried about the Clarke family, don't be. Almost no one knows Vincent and I are married. His reputation is safe."

But Glenn refused to listen. "You've kept Vincent at a distance for three years-just waiting for your old flame to show up so you could pick up where you left off? You have no idea how much you've let me down."

Dayna's hand tightened at her side, and her eyes-icy, silent-met his without wavering. There was no warmth in her expression, only a calm frost.

For a moment, Glenn hesitated. In that look, she was the mirror image of her mother. His voice turned even sharper. "You're going to apologize to Vincent. Remember, you don't just represent yourself-you carry the entire Roberts family."

A short, dry laugh slipped from Dayna's lips. All her life, that was all they saw-a bridge to the Clarke fortune, never a daughter.

Glenn's tone grew heavier, words landing like weights. "You're going to do what's needed. We have a massive branding campaign coming up, and Vincent's investment is crucial. Right now, your job is to keep him happy-whatever it takes."

Lifting her head, Dayna's voice cut through the tension. "You're talking about the same campaign built on Mom's old sketches, right? The ones you trot out every time you need approval? Even after everything, you're still squeezing her for every last drop."

"Watch your mouth, Dayna!" Glenn shouted, hand raised in sudden anger.

Before his hand could fall, the door swung wide. The entire atmosphere shifted.

Vincent appeared in the doorway, his expression impossible to read, but the air crackled with presence. He must have caught the tail end of their exchange.

Glenn's fury vanished in an instant. His arm dropped, and a hasty smile flickered on his face. "Vincent! I didn't expect you here today."

Dayna's gaze slid past her father, cold and unwavering.

Vincent entered, flawless in his suit, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding her forgotten purse. His eyes passed over her with a brief, searching look.

Glenn rushed to fill the silence. "What a surprise. Please, have a seat. Dayna can bring you coffee."

"That's not necessary. I came to return her bag." Vincent lifted it slightly, then added, "I also wanted to take a look around while I'm here."

Despite the connection between the Roberts and the Clarke families, this was Vincent's first visit to Roberts Group. Glenn could barely contain his excitement, immediately shifting focus to business. "About that proposal I mentioned-have you had a chance to review it?"

Vincent loosened his tie, his voice composed and cool. "I've had a packed schedule. I'll get to it when I'm able."

Glenn swallowed his eagerness and nodded, turning sharply to Dayna. "Don't just stand there. Go on, give Vincent a tour."

Dayna turned away from her father without a second thought, walking straight out of the office.

She made her way back to her workspace, hearing Vincent's footsteps behind her a moment later.

Clara and Zayne stood nearby, lingering at the threshold.

Fighting to keep her voice steady, Dayna accepted the purse from Vincent. "I rushed out earlier and left it behind. Thanks for bringing it over."

Vincent's gaze lingered on the thin red mark marring her cheek-a silent acknowledgment of what had happened between her and her father.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he spoke up unexpectedly. "Do you want me to get involved?"

Dayna looked at him, thrown off by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Your father's branding project," he said, voice matter-of-fact. "I haven't reviewed the details yet. But if you actually think it has merit, I'll take a look."

Her teeth pressed gently into her lower lip. "Roberts Group only managed to stay relevant in luxury because of my mother's legacy. She was the creative force behind everything. For years, my father's cashed in on her name-selling her designs, pushing me to hand over my own work. I'm done letting him bleed her dry."

Meeting his eyes, she straightened her shoulders. "I know Roberts Group made it this far with help from Clarke Group. But I'm sure I can turn things around myself. All I'm asking for is a little time."

The certainty in her voice made Vincent pause. A subtle nod, almost approving, passed over his face. "Alright. I get it."

Relief washed over her features. She took a small step forward, meaning to thank him, but her foot snagged on the edge of the rug and she stumbled.

Vincent reacted instantly, reaching out and steadying her with an arm around her waist.

In an instant, the space between them vanished, and Dayna's pulse hammered so hard she felt dizzy.

She realized she was flush against Vincent's chest, the shape of her lips stamped in rose on his crisp white shirt.

Heat crept up her neck as embarrassment swept over her. "I... I didn't mean to. I just tripped."

Vincent looked down, eyes lingering on her blushing cheeks, then leaned in until his words tickled her ear. "If you want to be close to me, you only have to ask. No need to stumble into me."