Heart At Knifepoint

Ava Blake's heels clicked against the marble lobby of the Lawson & Associates headquarters, the sound sharp and purposeful, like everything else about her. The morning sunlight streamed through the glass facade, casting her shadow long across the floor as she nodded to the greetings of co-workers. She was quite early, and the building was still quiet, holding its breath before the workday began.

Today was supposed to be a big and happy day for her. After years of fighting to be among the top architects, years of being overlooked for top projects just because she was a female architect, Ava had finally secured a bid for the Hammond Museum renovation. Not just any project, but a career-defining project, one that would cement her place among the architectural elite of the city. The one that would prove her mother right for mortgaging their home to send her to architecture school and her critics wrong for dismissing her organic, human-centered designs as "too emotional." The Hammond was her chance to restore a historical treasure while breathing new life into it. To create something that would outlast her.

She stepped into the elevator, balancing her portfolio case against her hip as she pressed the button for the 36th floor. The familiar flutter of nerves tickled her stomach, but she welcomed it. It was normal, the feeling that drove her through all-nighters in high school, through presentations to skeptical clients, through every step of her journey to this moment. Her phone buzzed. A text from Chloe, her assistant. *Urgent meeting in the main conference room. The CEO wants everyone there by 9.* Ava frowned. Tristan Lawson rarely called for arranged meetings but always unplanned ones. The elevator doors slid open to reveal an office in controlled chaos. Colleagues she expected to find at their desks were huddled in small groups, whispering urgently.

"Ava!" Chloe hurried towards her, tablet clutched to her chest, her normally perfect bun coming undone. "Thank God you're here early. They're saying it's about a merger."

"A merger?" Ava's heart skipped a beat. Mergers meant possible replacement, restructuring, and reassigned projects. "With whom?"

Chloe lowered her voice. "Caldwell Design Group."

The portfolio case nearly slipped from Ava's fingers. "You're joking."

Caldwell Design Group was their fiercest competitor, known for sleek, mathematical precision and cold brilliance. Led by legendary architect William Caldwell and, more recently, his son Nathan Caldwell, the man who is very talented in architecture. Nathan Caldwell, the man whose work she'd publicly criticized last year at the Architectural Digest symposium. The man who'd beaten her for the Morrison Tower commission by a single vote. The man whose aesthetic was so diametrically opposed to hers that architecture blogs had turned them into professional nemeses.

"It's just a rumor," Chloe said, without assurance. "maybe it's something else entirely."

"Right." Ava straightened her black blazer. "Let's find out."

The conference room was already half full when they arrived, the usual seating pattern abandoned as people claimed chairs closest to the door either to hear the news first or to make a quick escape afterward; Ava wasn't sure. She slid into a seat near the middle, setting her portfolio on the table. Her phone buzzed again. It was her mother. *Saw the news online. Call me when you can. Proud of you, peach.* What news? The Hammond Commission had been announced last week.

Ava was about to text back when Tristan Lawson, the CEO, entered the room, followed by two men she recognized immediately from industry events and magazine covers. William Caldwell, grey-haired, impeccably dressed, radiating the confidence of someone who'd spent decades shaping city skylines. And beside him, Nathan Caldwell. Ava had seen photos, of course, and they did capture the intensity they carried like an invisible force field.

Nathan Caldwell was a tall able-bodied lad with an athlete's build, with dark hair and sharp cheekbones that could have been carved by one of his own precise designs. He wore a simple black sweater that probably cost more than her monthly rent and no tie, as if boardroom meetings were beneath him. His eyes scanned the room with clinical detachment until they landed on her. A flash of recognition crossed his face. He smirked slightly before his expression returned to professional neutrality. Her cheeks burned. So he knew exactly who she was. Of course he did. She'd made sure of that when she'd stood up after his presentation last year and systematically dismantled his philosophy of prioritizing form over human experience.

"Good morning, everyone," Tristan Lawson began, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "I know this is unexpected, but sometimes the best opportunities arrive without warning. I'm pleased to announce that as of midnight last night, Lawson & Associates and Caldwell Design Group have merged to form Lawson & Caldwell Associates." The room erupted in murmurs. Merged. Not acquired. A partnership, then. Ava's fingers tightened around her pen.

"This strategic alliance," Tristan continued over the noise, "combines our strengths in sustainable, community-focused design with Caldwell's innovative structural approaches. Together, we'll be the most comprehensive architectural firm in the Northeast."

William Caldwell stepped forward. His voice was deep and authoritative. "Change can be unsettling, but I assure you, this merger will benefit both our client portfolios and provide each of us with expanded opportunities." He said and took his seat.

"Expanded opportunities, the classic replacement for "prove your worth or find another job." We'll be integrating our teams over the coming weeks." Tristan added. "Most of you will continue your current projects under the new structure, with some strategic reassignments to maximize our combined expertise."

Strategic reassignments? Ava's heart raced. The Hammond. Her Hammond. Would she be replaced? Her hand shot up across the table. "What about our upcoming projects? Will there be reassignment?"

"Some reassignments are unpredictable," Williams answered smoothly, "but we value the talent in both organizations." Williams understood Ava's fears.

Ava glanced at Nathan, who remained silent, his expression undistracted and unbothered as he studied something on his tablet. Not even bothering to pay attention to the career anxiety filling the room. He disgusted her.

"Now," Tristan said, in a very calm tone. "Let's address our ongoing projects. The Westside development will continue under Richard's team. The Lakefront corporate campus remains with Aria's group." He flipped a page in his notes. "The Hammond Museum renovation will be our new firm's big project, co-led by Ava Blake and Nathan Caldwell."

Co-led? The Hammond Museum renovation was supposed to be her masterpiece. Instead, she was stuck co-leading it with a man whose work she had spent years competing with. Her gaze snapped to Nathan, who finally looked up from his tablet. Their eyes locked across the table, and for a burning moment, it was just the two of them in the room. He didn't look surprised. He'd known this was coming. And of course it didn't seem like a problem to him.

"Ms. Blake and Mr. Caldwell represent the best of our respective design philosophies," Tristan continued, ignorant of Ava's internal crisis. "Their collaboration will showcase what this merger truly means for our future."

Collaboration? With Nathan Caldwell? The man would probably replace the museum's historic facade with a glass cube given half a chance. The meeting continued, but Ava barely heard the words. Her project, her career-defining project is now shared with the last person on earth she'd choose to work with.

After what felt like hours, Tristan concluded. "Department heads will receive project documents this morning. Individual meetings will be scheduled throughout the week. That's all for now." He concluded and took his leave.

People rose, noises of nervous chatter filling the room. Ava remained seated, trying to process what had just happened. The Hammond wasn't just a building to her. It was personal. Her mother, newly arrived from Mexico with nothing but determination and a love of art, had found refuge in that museum. She had taught Ava to see beauty in structure long before she knew what architecture was.

"Ms. Blake."

She looked up to find Nathan Caldwell standing over her, one hand in his pocket, studying her with those penetrating eyes accompanied by a warm smile. Up close, she could see they were an unusual shade of gray like storm clouds gathering.

"Mr. Caldwell." She rose, refusing to let him tower over her despite their height difference.

"Congratulations on the merger." He said in a warm manner. His voice was deeper than she expected, with a subtle roughness.

"Thank you." She said with hesitation. This thank you, of course, wasn't from the depths of her heart.

"I understand we'll be working together, so it seems we would have to know each other more."