On a hushed Monday afternoon, the rhythmic click of Victoria’s blush pink stilettos echoed down the hallway. Each step carried her closer to the imposing oak door of her father’s office. With a steady breath, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

Inside, Fidel was deep in conversation with a man seated across from him, but his words stopped midstream the moment his gaze lifted to her. Without missing a beat, he motioned toward the chair beside the visitor.

“Come in, Vicky. Sit,” Fidel said, gesturing toward one of the deep black armchairs opposite his desk.

Victoria obeyed, but her steps faltered. Her gaze caught the figure already seated in the armchair to the left—someone she hadn’t expected to see. For a fleeting second her composure slipped, but she quickly masked it, lifting her chin and walking forward with poise.

Lowering herself gracefully into the seat opposite him, she crossed her legs with poise, delicately folding her hands in her lap. Her dad’s office had always been a place of serious conversations, but this… this was different.

She expected charts, numbers, a quiet critique from her father about Project Venti.

Instead, she found him again.

From where he sat across from her, Nathaniel’s gaze trailed from the soft click of her heels to the graceful fall of her long legs, his eyes drinking her in with a lazy, deliberate appreciation.

Her tailored blush-pink blazer fit her like it was made for her alone, cinched at the waist to trace every subtle curve. The matching skirt brushed mid-thigh, modest by cut yet dangerously effective in making his imagination wander. A silky white camisole peeked from beneath the blazer, softening the sharpness of her business look. Her jewelry was minimal: a delicate V-shaped necklace glinting faintly with every breath she took, and slender silver drop earrings that swayed just enough to tease the light—and his patience.

But it was her hair that truly tested his restraint. That cascade of hazelnut-brown waves, loose and flowing, kissed her shoulders as if it had a mind of its own. When she turned her head slightly, the soft curls framed her face in a way that made it almost impossible to look anywhere else. Her skin had that natural glow, smooth and pale, the kind that didn’t need makeup to be striking, almost angelic. But Nathaniel knew better. There was an icy steel beneath that softness.

Then his gaze settled on her hazel eyes—those eyes he once knew—were different now. They looked at him as if he were no one, just another man passing through her world. Distant. Cold.

Leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly, the corner of his lips curling. Her composure was flawless, but he could sense it—the subtle tension in the air, the unspoken awareness between them. She didn’t even have to look his way; she knew he was watching her.

His smirk deepened, bold and unapologetic. Noticing her shift uncomfortably under his gaze only amused him further. He didn’t bother to hide it.

Victoria caught it. The urge to frown burned within her, but she held herself steady. He was no longer the college boy she had known eleven years ago. The man seated before her now exuded a dangerous kind of confidence. His dark hair was styled with careless precision, the kind that whispered of confidence rather than vanity. His features were sharper now, carved and defined by time—his jaw strong, his lips curved faintly, and that subtle cleft in his chin that somehow made him look even more striking, as if every detail of his face had been designed to test a woman’s composure.

Dressed in a slim-fit charcoal gray blazer and matching trousers, with a black button-up shirt open at the collar, he carried himself with ambition and authority. Commanding. Smug.

And yet… still painfully familiar.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, but she quickly looked away, fixing her gaze on her father instead. Nathaniel, however, didn’t look away.

Fidel, oblivious to the quiet current stirring the air, spoke with his usual directness.

“First, I’d like you to meet Nathaniel Valencia. He will be handling Project Revival as Project Director. This will be the first joint venture between Valencia Infratech and Salvatierra & Co.”

She nodded once, as though she hadn’t just stepped into the past. “Mr. Valencia.”

“Miss Victoria,” Nathaniel returned, his voice calm and smooth—but laced with something heavier. Intent.

Fidel continued, focused on logistics. “Project Venti has been suspended. Effective immediately, you are reassigned to Project Revival under the leadership of Mr. Valencia. I expect your full cooperation.”

She blinked. Once.

Her posture remained steady, her tone calm though a current of shock stirred beneath her composure.

“Suspended? Why wasn’t I informed?”

“The board’s concerns reached a tipping point. I’m salvaging your position,” Fidel said. Not unkind, but with the icy authority of someone who didn’t entertain negotiation. “You’ve done good work, Vicky. No one is doubting your efforts. But the Board isn’t happy with the current performance. The KPIs are flat, and the return on investment doesn’t match projections. Right now, we can’t afford to keep investing in a stalled project. Revival, on the other hand, is our flagship moving forward. It needs all hands.”

It was a clean-cut answer. Coldly logical.

Her chest tightened, but she gave nothing away. She had mastered the art of losing gracefully—on the outside.

She gave a small nod, exhaling quietly through her nose. “Understood.”

“There’s one more thing,” her Dad added, almost as an afterthought. “I’ve finalized your engagement arrangement. Your new fiancé will be Nathaniel. Officially. We’ll announce it once Revival launches.”

The words were bullets.

Victoria’s breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show. She only turned, slowly, toward Nathaniel. His expression hadn’t changed. That unnerved her most.

Three things.

Nathaniel. Reassignment. Engagement.

A laugh curled in her chest—dry, bitter, but she didn’t let it out. Not here. Not in front of them.

“Dad,” she said evenly, “may we speak privately?”

Fidel barely looked up from the papers he had begun arranging.

“Nathaniel, that’ll be all for now. Thank you for coming. We’ll proceed with the paperwork on your end shortly.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat, his tone polite yet edged with something only she could recognize.

“Until next time, Victoria." he said, his voice low and smooth. " I look forward to working with you.”

Victoria returned his words with a composed, professional smile.

There was that smirk again. A hint of teasing. Maybe something darker behind it.

Then the door closed behind him.

Victoria didn’t move. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, though her pulse beat wildly beneath her wrist.

Everything had just changed.