Chapter 5 A woman of steel

The next morning, Lila came prepared for battle. She wore a fitted black dress-not flashy, but sharp-and pulled her hair into a sleek knot at the base of her neck.

Her heels clicked confidently across the marble lobby as she made her way back to the 49th floor.

If Zane Carrington wanted to test her limits, he would find none.

The moment she stepped into her glass-walled office, she noticed the difference. On her desk, a new stack of files-twice the size of yesterday's-neatly piled with a yellow Post-it on top. Finish by tonight. -Z.C.

Lila's lips twitched into a grim smile.

He thinks he can drown me in work? Good luck.

She rolled her sleeves and got started.

Hour after hour, she typed, sorted, and cross-referenced. Names blurred. Figures swirled.

Deals, betrayals, secrets-all laid bare under her steady hands. Somewhere between the contracts and the balance sheets, a pattern began to form. Zane wasn't just cleaning house.

He was preparing for something.

Something big.

An acquisition?

A merger?

Or something worse?

But she tucked the thought away for later.

For now, she had a war to win. Around 3 p.m.,

the tension broke.

Not because of Zane-but because of her. One of the senior managers on the 49th floor-Mr.

Harper-strode into her office, uninvited. He leaned against the doorframe, a lazy grin on his face.

"Word travels fast around here," he said, eyeing her up and down.

"You're the little charity case Carrington's keeping around." Lila didn't even flinch.

She closed the file in front of her and looked up, bored.

"And you're the man with too much time on his hands." Harper chuckled. "

Feisty.

I like it. Maybe when your 'debt' days are over, you'll come work for a real boss."

Before Lila could deliver a sharper reply, a shadow fell across the hallway. Zane.

Standing a few feet behind Harper, hands in his pockets, his face an unreadable mask. But his voice-low, lethal-cut through the air like ice.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Harper?" Harper stiffened.

Straightened. "N-no, sir. Just welcoming the new recruit."

Zane didn't move. Didn't blink.

"She's not here to be welcomed. She's here to work. If you have time to harass employees, perhaps you're not as busy as you pretend to be."

The rebuke hit harder than a slap. Harper muttered an apology and hurried away without another glance.

Lila expected Zane to follow, to say something scathing and cold to her too.

But instead, he stepped into the room-one foot only-and said, "If anyone bothers you again, you come straight to me. Understand?"

Lila raised her chin. "I can fight my own battles."

"I know," Zane said simply.

"That's the problem." For a heartbeat, the room was thick with something heavier than defiance.

He was looking at her again-that deep, analytical look, like he was trying to find the cracks and couldn't.

Finally, he gave a slow nod, as if conceding a point he didn't want to admit.

"Carry on, Miss Davis." And then he was gone.

But the space he left behind hummed with a new kind of energy.

Not hatred.

Not revenge.

Something hotter.

Something far more dangerous.