Chapter 2

Alistair's voice was calmer, trying to reason. "James, Eleanor has been spearheading the City Center development for two years. Changing lead architects now will spook the investors, it could damage the stock."

"I don't care!" James snapped. "I've made my decision. Olivia is the future of Harrington Holdings by my side. Are you going to trust an outsider over your own son's choice?"

The City Center project was Harrington Holdings' flagship venture. A multi-billion dollar mixed-use development meant to redefine a whole district. In my previous life, my design for it had won international acclaim, catapulting the company to new heights and cementing my legacy.

James knew its importance.

A few minutes later, the housekeeper, Mrs. Davies, knocked on my door. "Ms. Baker, Mr. Harrington Sr. would like to see you in the study."

Alistair sat behind his massive mahogany desk, looking tired. He gestured for me to sit. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the polished wood.

"Eleanor, we need to discuss something."

"There's no need, Mr. Harrington," I interrupted, my voice even. "I understand."

He looked up, a flash of surprise in his eyes, then deep regret. For years, he'd championed me, mentored me. But now, faced with his son's ultimatum, his hands were tied. He was nearing retirement; the company needed a clear successor.

Alistair sighed. "The City Center project... you've poured so much into it. It's not right to pull you off it."

"But James is insistent," I finished for him. "He's stubborn. More than you, sometimes."

I nodded. "I understand, Mr. Harrington."

I reached into my bag and pulled out a large portfolio and a sleek, platinum fountain pen. I placed them on the desk.

"This portfolio contains all the blueprints, design specifications, digital models, and contact lists for the City Center project. The passwords for the encrypted files are ones James already knows."

Alistair stared at the pen. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for it. It was a custom-made Montblanc, a gift from him when I'd first been named a senior designer, engraved with the Harrington crest. It was a symbol, passed down, signifying the head of design at their firm. I'd carried it for over a decade. It had practically become an extension of my hand.

In my past life, it was still in my desk drawer when I died.

He looked at my calm face, words unspoken in his eyes.

I stood up and gave a slight bow. "Mr. Harrington, thank you for everything over the years. I'm very grateful."

The study door burst open. James strode in, Olivia Morningstar clinging to his arm.

"Dad, is it settled?" He didn't even glance at me, heading straight for Alistair.

Alistair nodded wearily, pushing the portfolio and the pen towards James. "Eleanor has agreed to the handover."

Before James could speak, Olivia's eyes lit up. She snatched the platinum pen from the desk, her fingers closing around it possessively. A triumphant, almost greedy glint shone in her eyes.

The sight made Alistair frown slightly.

"Wait," I said suddenly.

James scowled. "Eleanor, don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

I shook my head and pulled a slim, unmarked folder from my bag. "This wasn't in the main portfolio."

I handed it to James. "These are the confidential annexes. The unminuted agreements with the city planning department, the delicate negotiations with the transport authority regarding the subway line reroute, and the specific structural engineering challenges for the cantilevered Sky Garden. Very sensitive."

James took the folder, his brow furrowing as he quickly scanned the first few pages. His frown deepened. These were complex, high-stakes issues. If mishandled, they could derail the entire project, costing Harrington Holdings billions.

"With Olivia's background," I said, my tone neutral, "I'm sure she'll manage these details perfectly."

Olivia's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. She had an art history degree from a small liberal arts college. She knew nothing about large-scale urban development, structural engineering, or navigating New York City's bureaucracy.

"You worry too much, Eleanor," Olivia said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I'm a fast learner. James will guide me."

I said nothing more. The success of the City Center project had relied on my innovative designs and my knack for smoothing over complex stakeholder issues.