Against the Tragic Fate

Harper Quinn had faced a lot of difficult moments in her life, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

Her fingers tightened around the leather handle of her portfolio as she stood outside the sleek glass doors of Mercer Industries, her heart hammering a rhythm she couldn't control. The towering skyscraper reflected the early morning sun, casting an intimidating glow over the city below. This was supposed to be her big break-the opportunity that would elevate her career as a fashion designer to new heights. Instead, it felt like walking straight into a war zone.

The receptionist greeted her with a professional smile, completely unaware of the storm raging inside Harper's chest. "Ms. Quinn, Mr. Mercer will see you now."

The name alone sent a shiver down her spine. Holden Mercer. The man who had once been everything to her, only to disappear without a trace. She had spent six years convincing herself that she was over him, that the pain had dulled into nothing more than a distant memory. Yet standing here, knowing she was about to see him again, made every carefully constructed wall in her mind feel dangerously fragile.

With a steadying breath, she stepped inside the executive conference room.

Holden stood near the window, his broad shoulders framed by the backdrop of the city skyline. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, he looked every bit the powerful billionaire the world knew him to be. But Harper's gaze was drawn to the small details-the slight clench of his jaw, the way his fingers curled against the edge of the table, as though he wasn't as unaffected as he wanted to seem.

His piercing blue eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched, heavy with everything left unsaid between them.

A cool, practiced smile curved Holden's lips. "Harper Quinn." He said her name like a secret he hadn't spoken aloud in years. "It's been a long time."

Not long enough.

She forced herself to mirror his professionalism. "Mr. Mercer."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his gaze before he gestured toward the chair across from him. "Have a seat."

Harper sat, smoothing the fabric of her pencil skirt as she placed her portfolio on the table. Business. That was all this was. A professional opportunity. It didn't matter that the man sitting across from her was the same one who had once whispered promises against her skin, who had made her believe in forever before shattering her heart into a thousand pieces.

Holden folded his hands together, watching her with an intensity that made her stomach tighten. "Your work has impressed our team. We've been searching for someone with a unique vision for our luxury brand expansion, and your designs stood out."

It should have been a moment of triumph. Instead, Harper felt like she was teetering on the edge of something dangerous. "I appreciate the opportunity," she said, keeping her tone even. "But let's be clear-this is strictly business. If that's a problem, we can end this now."

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he nodded. "Strictly business."

Liar.

She pulled out her sketches, focusing on the work rather than the man watching her with the intensity of someone trying to read between the lines. "The collection I've designed merges timeless elegance with modern innovation. Mercer Industries is known for power and precision, and I want the fashion line to reflect that."

Holden leaned forward, scanning her designs. "It's exceptional." His voice held no trace of insincerity, and that only made it worse. "But tell me something, Harper-how much of that fire comes from proving everyone wrong?"

Her breath hitched. He was trying to get under her skin, testing her boundaries the way he always had. She refused to let him win.

"Success is the best revenge," she said smoothly, arching a brow. "And I intend to succeed."

Something dark flickered in his eyes, something that hinted at the past neither of them were acknowledging. "You always did."

A knock at the door shattered the charged silence.