Chapter 4

My eyes drifted past Mark' s gloating face to a quiet corner of the drafting room. David, a junior architect, was hunched over a set of blueprints, so absorbed in his work that he seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding. In my past life, Mark had fired David, calling his designs "unimaginative and pedestrian." A year later, David won the prestigious Pritzker Prize for a revolutionary museum he designed for a rival firm. Mark had overlooked pure, unadulterated genius. I would not make that same mistake.

That evening, I went to my grandfather' s library again. The door was closed, ensuring our conversation was private.

"Grandfather," I said, "The competition is set. Mark has taken the bait."

"And he has scared off your cousins," my grandfather noted, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "He will run unopposed."

"On the surface, yes," I agreed. "Publicly, I will support Mark' s bid. I will be the dutiful wife. But privately... I will be backing a different horse." I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in. "I want you to approve a shadow team, off the books. It will be led by David."

My grandfather raised an eyebrow. "The young architect? He is quiet. I barely know him."

"He is brilliant," I stated with absolute conviction. "And he is loyal. Mark has overlooked him, which makes him the perfect secret weapon. His proposal will be submitted under a subsidiary company's name, one Mark won't pay any attention to. When the time comes for the final presentation, we will reveal David's plan. It will be far superior to whatever recycled idea Mark presents."

My grandfather looked at me, a long, appraising stare. He saw the cold calculation in my eyes, the strategic mind at work. The fragile, heartbroken woman from the day before was gone. In her place was a leader, a worthy heir to the Vance name. He finally gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"Do it," he said. "The resources are yours. Keep me informed."

I had his blessing. The plan was in motion.

The next day, Mark and Emily appeared at the office together, acting as if they already owned the place. They walked over to my desk, where I was reviewing some initial schematics with David.

"Working hard?" Mark asked, a condescending tone in his voice. He glanced at the plans on the table. "Don't waste too much of your energy on these minor projects, Sarah. Focus on the city center. Our project."

Emily leaned over, her perfume cloying and cheap. "Yes, Sarah. We all need to be a team. Mark has such a brilliant vision, and it would be a shame if you didn't contribute your full talents to helping him achieve it."

Her words were a deliberate provocation, a reminder of how he had used and discarded my talents in our last life. I looked up from the blueprints, my gaze stone cold. I didn't look at Mark. I looked directly at Emily.

"And who are you, exactly?" I asked, my voice laced with ice. "The new intern? Did you bring Mark his coffee this morning?"

Emily's face flushed with anger. The mask of polite superiority slipped, revealing the petty, insecure woman underneath. "I am Mark's partner," she snapped.

"I see," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. I turned back to David, dismissing her completely. "David, your adjustments to the load-bearing calculations here are excellent. Let's proceed."

Mark's face darkened with anger. He couldn't stand me ignoring his new prize.

"Sarah, that's enough," he said sharply. "Emily is going to be working with us. You need to learn to get along with her. Show her some respect."

I finally turned to look at him, a humorless smile on my lips.

"Respect is earned, Mark," I said. "Not demanded."

I watched as he stood there, fuming and helpless. He was so busy trying to manage the small-scale drama he had created that he was completely blind to the corporate ambush I was orchestrating right under his nose.