The sun had already set when Harper stepped back into the co-leads' office, holding her phone. She quickly glanced at the second desk, pushed against the far wall like an unwanted guest.

"Hey, they finally brought us another desk," Ivan smiled. "I'll still keep my chair, though."

Harper looked at 'his' chair, then at the new arrival. 

"Oh, so you think it's me who should move out?"

"Makes sense."

"How?"

“I like it here.” Ivan was up to test Harper, to see if she would show any hint of irritation.

"Everything alright? You look tense," her voice was saccharine.

"Long day." Ivan’s expression hardened. "You?" 

"Had to go back." Harper moved to her side of the original desk, pointedly not acknowledging the new furniture. "I forgot my tablet, and my father wants updates."

"Of course he does."

Harper found her tablet buried under some papers and snatched it up. The movement was sharper than necessary, and several files scattered to the floor.

"Damn it," she muttered, bending to collect them.

Her phone buzzed. 

"Almost there." She answered quickly, then froze. “Tomorrow?” She breathed out slowly, soaking in her morning place.

Ivan could only hear Harper's side of the conversation, but her face told the whole story. The color drained from her cheeks as she listened.

"... no, you're right. 8 AM." Harper's voice grew smaller. "Yes, I understand."

When she hung up, Harper stared at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.

"Working late?" Ivan asked casually.

Harper shuddered, as if remembering he was there.

"Something like that." Harper's voice was tight. She touched her tablet with shaking hands.

Ivan watched her for another moment, then gathered his things. "I should head out."

"Yeah." Harper was tapping the gadget's screen.

Ivan left, but instead of going to the elevator, he lingered in the hallway. Through the glass, he could see Harper's frantic movements growing more erratic by the minute.

This was interesting. Harper Owen was clearly in crisis.

Twenty minutes later, he returned with two cups of coffee.

Harper was startled. "I thought you left."

"Forgot something." Ivan set one cup on her desk. "You look like you need this."

"...?" Harper stared at the cup. 

Ivan shrugged. "Professional courtesy."

That wasn't entirely true. If Owen’s daughter was struggling with anything related to the acquisition, he needed to know what it was. Keeping her functional served his interests.

"Thank you." Harper took a sip.

"Having a problem?"

Harper just smiled to herself.

"LV analysis?" Ivan settled back at the desk. 

Harper's head snapped up. "How did you.."

"I saw Ms. Reed on my way out."

"Right." Harper's voice was hollow.

Ivan waited, watching her attempts to face whatever it was. After a few minutes, she cracked.

"I needed..."

Harper's laugh was bitter. "Turns out I have another twelve hours.” 

"For what?"

"Full acquisition analysis." Harper voiced it like a death sentence. 

Ivan leaned back in his chair. This was perfect. Harper failing spectacularly would create chaos in the Owen camp. 

"Sounds fun."

"Sounds impossible."

Ivan watched Harper's growing panic and tried to predict her actions. 

"What do you have so far?" he heard himself ask.

Harper glanced at him, surprised. "Why?"

"Curiosity."

Harper gestured at her screen. "All we talked about in the morning, and… a lot of empty slides."

Ivan stood and moved to watch over her shoulder. Harper tensed as he approached, but didn't pull away.

"This projection model is completely wrong," he said, pointing at her screen.

"Wrong how?"

"Your methodology is amateurish." Ivan's tone was dismissive. "Is this the best Owen’s Group can do?"

Harper's spine stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying, for a person with your reputation, this is surprisingly... basic."

Harper turned in her chair to face him, her eyes flashing. "Basic?"

"Unsophisticated. I'd expect such from a first-year analyst."

"Are you seriously criticizing my work right now?"

"Making an observation."

"An observation?" Harper stood abruptly. "Or are you trying to sabotage me?"

"Want me to leave you to it?"

Harper scanned her screen, then backed to him. "You could... stay. If you have nothing better to do."

Ivan pretended to consider it. "I suppose I could work on my own stuff while you panic."

"I'm not panicking."

"You are, definitely."

"I'm strategically concerned."

"Is it even a thing?"

Harper smiled at that, just for a moment. "Okay, fine. I'm panicking."

Ivan moved his chair closer to hers, showing her how to structure the documents efficiently. Harper leaned in to see his screen, and he caught a hint of her perfume beneath the coffee and exhaustion.

"What's the biggest missing piece?"

"LV market analysis."

"I can pull that data."

"Why would you help me?"

"Who says I'm helping? I just want to see how Harper Owen operates under pressure."

“Bastard,” Harper muttered.

Ivan found himself almost smiling. "Surprised?"

Around midnight, Harper's stomach growled loudly.

"When did you last eat?" Ivan asked.

"Lunch. Maybe."

Ivan disappeared again, returning with sandwiches from the all-night deli.

"Eat."

Harper unwrapped the sandwich gratefully. 

"You didn't have to get food."

"Can't have you collapsing before the presentation."

"Worried about me?"

The question caught him off guard. "You promised to save LV."

"Right."

But her tone suggested she didn't entirely believe him.

"This is probably the most surreal night of my career."

"Why?"

"Working all night with the enemy."

Ivan paused mid-bite. "I thought we were partners."

"I don't know what you are, Ivan.”

“What happened to the LV papers from the previous team?”

The question hung in the air, Harper's face flushed with confusion.

"Oliver was supposed to hand it."

"Himself?"

"Maybe." Harper rubbed her temples. "He's been... difficult since the announcement."

"And now you're scrambling to put together work that should have been done weeks ago."

"I’ll contact him,” She peeked at the clock,” tomorrow."

"How did you miss this?"

"You arrogant bastard. Wasn’t it your part?"

"Arrogant? For pointing out obvious flaws in your analysis?"

"For sitting there judging me while pretending to help."

"I never pretended anything."

Harper laughed, standing up. "Right. My mistake."

Ivan looked her up and down deliberately. “You admit your mistake now?"

The condescension in his voice made Harper see red. "You know what? Screw you."

"Eloquent."

"I don't need to be eloquent with you."

Harper stepped closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think because my name is Owen, you understand everything about who I am?"

"I think your name explains a lot."

"Like what?"

"You're falling apart over one presentation. Like, why can't you handle basic acquisition analysis without having a breakdown?"

Harper's eyes blazed. "I am not having a breakdown."

"You just like someone who's in way over her head."

"And you enjoy it, don't you?" Harper's voice was getting louder. 

"I find it... entertaining."

"Entertaining?"

"Yes. You without Henry’s hand to hold yours."

That was the breaking point. Harper's composure fell completely.

"Fuck you," she snarled. "Fuck you and your sullen bullshit."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Showing your true colors, Owen?"

"I'm not some delicate flower who falls apart when challenged, asshole."

"Could have fooled me."

Harper laughed wildly. "Fine! Let me tell you what I think of you, Vernon."

"Please do."

"I think you're a broken man who gets off on other people's failures because it makes you feel better about your shortcomings."

"Careful, Harper."

"Or what? You'll stop pretending, too? Too late." Harper stepped even closer, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "Your facade doesn't fool me. You are threatened by me."

"Threatened?" Ivan's laugh was harsh. "By you?"

"By the fact that I can stop you."

"Is that why you're falling apart over one presentation?"

"I'm not falling apart. I'm pissed off."

"The difference being?"

"When I'm falling apart, I curl up and cry. Now I’m ready to destroy everything in my path."

Ivan felt cold settle at the gaze in her eyes.

"So thank you, Ivan," Harper continued, her voice deadly calm now. "Thank you for reminding me exactly who I am."

"And who's that?"

"Henry Owen's daughter. And every single thing that implies."

She turned back to her laptop, fingers flying over the keys with sudden, vicious efficiency.

"What are you doing?"

"My job. Without giving a damn what you think about it."

Ivan watched her. This wasn't the broken woman he'd hoped her to be, and this was entirely unexpected.

"Harper…"

"Don't. You made your position clear."

She smiled, pleasant and terrifying. "Now, unless you have something useful to contribute, I suggest you get out of my way."

In ten minutes, Harper threw down her pen and quickly began to grab her stuff, then headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ivan met her heavy gaze. 

"To fail. Publicly and spectacularly. Or not.” Harper paused. “Watch me."

"I told you. I have too much invested in this..." 

She left without turning back.

Ivan stared at her leaving, realizing he'd unleashed a piece of her he might not be able to control. His game was becoming more complicated than he had planned.