Harper's alarm went off at 6:30 AM, but she'd already been awake for an hour, staring at the ceiling. Her head was throbbing from last night’s fight with Ivan, his words cut deeper than she’d let on.

Today, she had to face Henry with a cobbled-together report, to prove she was more than her father’s pawn. She got up and moved through her morning routine, shower, and coffee.

“And this navy suit.” She murmured to the clothes that made her feel armored.

In the mirror, she looked perfectly composed. 

“Professional. Unshakeable.” 

The facade was flawless. No one would guess she'd spent the night rebuilding her presentation.

Buzz. Buzz. Her phone on the counter lit up with the seventh missed call from Oliver.

Swap. Harper deleted the notifications without listening to the voicemails. 

This morning, the Owen’s Group’s building felt different. 

Word traveled fast in corporate environments. Employees bent their heads respectfully as she passed, but she caught the sideways glances, the whispered conversations that were stopping when she approached.

Harper stepped into the elevator and found Oliver waiting.

"Harper." His smile was strained. "I've been trying to reach you."

"I know."

“Materials’ delay… There was a… misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding.” Her voice shadowed his words, her expression unyielding.

“I may have pushed too hard.”

"May have?"

"Look, I thought…"

"You thought what, Oliver?" Harper's voice was conversational, but Oliver shifted uncomfortably. "Sabotaging me would increase your chances?"

"Harper, that’s not… We need to talk."

"Do we?"

Oliver moved closer, lowering his voice to that intimate tone he used when they were alone. "Come on, Harp. Don't be like this."

"Like what, Oliver?" 

"Cold." His hand reached for her arm. "This isn't you."

She stepped back, dodging his touch. "Maybe you don't know me well."

Oliver looked baffled. All she had shown him before was Harper Owen, who used to laugh at his jokes and fit in perfectly at company events, a woman he'd planned to propose to, securing his place in his corporate life.

"You look exhausted, Harp. When's the last time you slept tight?" He asked softly.

Despite herself, Harper sensed a flicker of warmth. Oliver had always noticed things like that. Whenever she was pushing too hard, whenever she forgot to eat during long days, he was there for her.

"I'm fine."

"You've got that look you get when you're carrying too much alone." Oliver's voice was gentle now.

Harper's resolve wavered slightly. There had been a time when Oliver's concern felt real.

"Harper, I know you're angry about those files."

“...”

“Are you okay? You’ve been off lately. I know Henry’s riding you hard, and if you need to vent, I’m here.” Oliver's eyes were earnest.

“...”

"I thought if I could create a situation where we worked together, I could share some of that burden..."

For a moment, Harper saw the Oliver she'd trusted in her past life.

"You could have just asked," she said quietly.

"You never let anyone help you. Would you have let me?"

The truth hit harder than Harper expected. 

"I see how hard you push yourself." He did know her.

Harper's throat tightened. "Oliver…"

"I love you, Harper."

The sincerity in his voice was devastating. This was why she'd let him close when she kept everyone else at arm's length.

"The girl who stays up all night because she wants to do things right. Confusing and gorgeous," Oliver smiled warmly. 

Harper stared at him, feeling familiar warmth.

"That's who I fell in love with."

For a heartbeat, Harper almost believed him. 

"I made a mistake. I don’t want it to affect us?"

Then reality crashed back.

"Us?" Harper's laugh was sharp. "There is no us, Oliver."

“Harper,” he said, his voice carrying the certainty of someone who’d never questioned his place in her world.

"After this,” he continued. “When I'm leading things, when your father sees…"

"When you’re leading it?"

Oliver realized his mistake too late. "I mean, when we're leading…"

“And I’m supposed to believe you misspoke?” Her voice was deadly quiet, nausea rising again.

"Harp,..."

“You think you’ve got this all figured out?”

Oliver caught her wrist.

"You're upset. I get it. But that was just..."

Harper looked down at his hand on her wrist, then back up at his face. "Just?"

"A show for your father that you need support. That we’re better as a team."

"By undermining me?"

"By creating an opportunity for us to succeed together." his grip tightened slightly. "Don't you see? When I step in to help…"

"Tell me, Oliver, in this grand plan of yours, what exactly is my role? Besides being Henry Owen's daughter?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I? Because it sounds like you've got my entire future mapped out. And I’m just supposed to go along for the ride.”

Oliver released her wrist, searching her eyes for something he couldn’t find.

"I love you," he said, playing his final card.

The elevator chimed, but neither moved to exit.

Harper stared at him for a long moment, then stepped out without a word, leaving Oliver standing there, mouth half-open.

Every step to Henry’s office hardened her heart even more. 

"Hello, Ms.Owen. He’s waiting for you." Clara looked up with a bright smile.

Harper nodded greetings and walked in.

“Good morning, Father.” She slid into a seat, placed her tablet on the table, and waited.

"Morning, Harper. Shall we begin?" Henry Owen's voice carried the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

Harper activated the display and began to speak.

Forty minutes later, she was trying to push thoughts about Oliver and Henry away, as she walked back into the co-leads' office.

She stopped short. This place was a ghost town now. Boxes were stacked between desks, labeled with “LV Ind.”. She nodded, taking it in.

The quiet felt wrong. Too peaceful.

Ivan's chair was tucked neatly under his desk, his side cleared of personal items. Even his coffee mug was gone.

Harper set her bag down at the second desk slowly. 

It was only one day, but she'd grown used to Ivan's presence. His swaying on the chair, his comments that kept her on her toes.

Now there was nothing. Not even his scent of bergamot and pine.

She reached for her phone, searching for Ivan’s contact.

“Stop!” She froze, confused by her own impulse.

What was she supposed to say? That she missed their arguments? That the office felt empty without his biting commentary? Calling him was out of the question. She put the phone away.

An hour passed. Then another. 

Harper tried to focus on her notes, but her attention kept drifting to Ivan’s empty chair.

“Where the hell is he?”

After last night’s blowout, she’d expected him to be here, gloating.

Around noon, she “accidentally” bumped into Clara, who was restocking coffee pods in the kitchen with her usual cheerful efficiency.

"Oh, Ms. Owen!"

"Is Mr. Vernon... around today?" Harper paused, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

Clara glanced up, confused. “He’s in LV for the day. Didn’t he tell you?”

Harper kept her face smooth. “Slipped his mind, I guess.”

Clara leaned forward conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think everyone’s on edge after yesterday. Something very hush-hush."

"Really?"

"Well, you know how these things go. One day you're business as usual,the next everything’s upside down." 

Her phone rang. "Excuse me, Clara Reed, how may I help you?"

Harper waited for Clara to finish the call.

“Clara, what’s his schedule like?”

“Are you coordinating with him? I can pull up his calendar if you need to schedule something.”

"No, that's not necessary," Harper said quickly.

"Should I have Mr. Vernon call you when he gets back?"

“No." Harper's face heated. "I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."

Clara's expression shifted to confusion. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand."

"Right."

Clara stayed staring at her politely as Harper retreated to the elevator.

Back in their office, Harper sat in the silence and tried to make sense of her behavior. 

She was Harper Owen. She needed to plan how to get out of this situation and from the difficult men who insulted her intelligence and questioned her competence. 

But she was confused.

She opened her laptop, but the words blurred together. Her mind churned, caught between Ivan’s being away and Oliver’s honeyed words.

The elder brother shook her back from her orbit. Yet her thoughts kept circling back to Ivan’s absence, to the way he'd looked at her last night.

Like she was exactly what he'd expected her to be. And the worst was, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was right.

Both men, different as they were, underestimated her.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Check your email. Now. -A friend

Harper frowned, switching to her inbox. There was a new message at the top with no sender name, only a subject line that made her blood run cold:

RE: LV Classified.

With trembling fingers, she opened the email.