Chapter 5 THE BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Amelia took a deep breath as she settled into the office chair, the familiar scent of oil paints and varnished wood swirling around her. Yet, the sanctuary she had once cherished now felt tainted, overshadowed by dread and uncertainty. The walls seemed to close in as she locked eyes with Jeremy.

"Amelia, we need to talk," he said, his tone grave, slicing through the tension that had settled in the room.

"What's the extent of the damage?" she pressed, her heart racing. The threat of Rachel's whispers hung like an anchor in her chest, threatening to pull her down into despair.

Jeremy hesitated, a pensive look crossing his face, as he shuffled through the papers spread across the desk. "Funding is at risk. There are murmurs...specifically about your relationship with Alexander."

The weight of his words slammed into her, the ground feeling like it was shifting beneath her. "No," she whispered, barely able to breathe. "This can't be happening right now. Not after last night. Not after everything."

"There are whispers," he reiterated, concern knitting his brows. "You need to decide how to navigate this before it spirals even further. If Rachel capitalizes on this... it could ruin everything you've built."

Dread pooled in her stomach, a gnawing fear that Rachel was already positioning herself to strike. Could Amelia really prevent the tabloids from spinning this into a scandal? The thought sent a tremor through her.

"Is it just Rachel stirring the pot? Can't we just-" She stammered, her mind racing to devise a plan.

"Amelia, it's never just Rachel," Derek chimed in, peering over Jeremy's shoulder. His presence was a tether, grounding her with the steadying force of their friendship. "She thrives on chaos, and she knows how to manipulate this world. We need allies in our corner."

"Exactly," Jeremy nodded, a spark of urgency igniting in his eyes. "We need to put a plan in place-quick, effective, and without any room for error."

Amelia took a moment, inhaling deeply as she considered her options. "Fine. Let's come up with a strategy," she replied, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "What should we do?"

"First," Jeremy said, leaning forward, "we need to address the funding situation directly. I suggest we have a sit-down with the board members. Position yourself as the leader-own the conversation before rumors have a chance to fester."

"Right, and if they ask about Alexander?" Amelia inquired, biting her lip. "What do I say when they bring him up?"

"Be transparent about your professional relationship," Derek advised, his brow furrowed in thought. "Focus on the gallery's strengths, and remind them that you're the one with the vision. If you show weakness, they'll smell blood in the water."

Just then, the café door swung open again, and a tight knot formed in Amelia's stomach as a group of well-dressed patrons strolled in, their laughter ringing like chimes in a mournful breeze. Among them was none other than Rachel Sinclair, her sleek blonde hair gleaming in the light, a sharp smile painted on her face as she surveyed the café.

Amelia's heart sank. Would Rachel's audience fuel more rumors?

"Speak of the devil," Derek muttered, eyeing Rachel as she glided towards the counter, a picture of effortless elegance.

Amelia's stomach twisted into knots-the sudden reality of the situation crashing down as she imagined Rachel feeding into the frenzy. "We need to move fast," she hissed, urgency coloring her voice. "If I don't act quick enough, everything falls apart."

Rachel ordered a latte, her piercing gray eyes glancing over at their table, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. The brief connection sent a chill down Amelia's spine; Rachel could sense the subtle shifts in the air, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness.

"Let's get out of here," Amelia hissed, her voice fluttering with tension. "We can't risk Rachel overhearing our plans."

Right as they stood to leave, Derek's phone buzzed with a notification. "It's about the gallery funding," he said, squinting at the screen. "I need to respond immediately."

"Go!" Amelia urged, urgency coursing through her. "I'll handle Rachel."

"You sure?" Derek's concern was evident. "She's got a reputation for being dangerous."

"Trust me. I've got this," Amelia insisted, determination mingling with a hint of desperation. She could handle Rachel. Or at least, she had to.

As Derek quickly typed a response, Amelia squared her shoulders and prepared to confront Rachel. The moment felt electric, anticipation twisting in her chest.

"Rachel!" Amelia called out, her voice unwavering as she approached the counter where Rachel stood.

Rachel looked up, feigning surprise, though the latter was clearly an act. "Well, if it isn't the enigmatic curator," Rachel replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What a coincidence to see you here. I thought you'd be hiding under a rock after last night's little debacle."

The air crackled with tension as Amelia kept her head held high. "You know very well that I won't be intimidated by you, Rachel. I've worked too hard for you to come in here and question my integrity."

Rachel's laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. "Your integrity? Please, Amelia. You're a mere blip on the radar compared to the empires I've seen crumble. You may have garnered Alexander's attention, but don't forget-you're just another ornament in his collection."

With each word, Amelia felt her blood boiling. "And that's exactly why you won't win this game, Rachel. I refuse to be reduced to a trophy in your twisted competition."

"Well, good luck with that," Rachel replied, crossing her arms. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

With every ounce of strength in her, Amelia leaned in closer. "Maybe I don't. But I'll find out, and when I do, you'll wish you had kept your mouth shut."

Rachel's grin faltered, momentarily revealing the irritation flickering just beneath the surface. "You think you can come into my world and dictate terms?" she retorted, her confidence wavering but quickly recovering. "You might have Alexander wrapped around your finger now, but I assure you, I've danced with kings and queens. This will end badly for you."

Before Amelia could respond, Derek returned, his expression a mixture of urgency and concern. "Amelia, we need to get moving, now."

"Johnson and Turner are on their way," he clarified. "Our meeting about the gallery's funding is in fifteen minutes."

"So we can't waste time chatting with this... person," Rachel interjected, her smug attitude returning as she surveyed Derek. "I'd hate to sidetrack you further. Go off-play your game, and let's see who really holds the cards."

"I'll be coming for everything, Rachel," Amelia snapped, her heart racing with determination. "You're not as invincible as you think."

With that, she turned on her heel, Derek beside her, exchanging worried glances as they stepped into the bustling city streets. They hurried past the throng of pedestrians, but Amelia's heart raced not only from the thrill of the confrontation but also at what awaited them at the gallery.

"Amelia, are you okay?" Derek asked, noticing her unease. "Rachel's words-"

"Don't let her scare you," Amelia interrupted, indignation surging. "I won't back down."

"We'll get through this," Derek assured her, pulse pounding as they weaved through the crowd. "But we need to focus on the funding. Play this right, and we can still save the gallery."

As they approached the gallery's entrance, the old stone facade towered above them, a familiar comfort mixed with fear. Today would prove whether she could stand tall against Rachel's machinations, especially with the reality of her gallery's future at stake.

As they entered, Amelia forced herself to put on the brave front she needed. But as her eyes landed on Jeremy waiting anxiously at her desk, the real fight loomed before her: Could she protect everything she loved?

Just as she settled into the urgency of the moment, her phone buzzed again-a message from Alexander: "We need to speak. This is bigger than I thought. Meet me at my office." The mere invitation sent adrenaline coursing through her; was the storm about to break, or were they just beginning to fight back?