The morning after the gala, Ferdinand arrived at Parker Tower before most of the staff. He had demanded a redesign of the executive floors, wanting the space to reflect the new, ruthless direction of the company. Sharp. Impersonal. Intimidating.
Claire walked beside him, updating him efficiently. “Sinclair Interiors is scheduled for ten o’clock. They have a strong portfolio in corporate projects.”
Ferdinand gave no reply. He simply entered the conference room and took his seat at the head of the table, reviewing documents in silence.
At exactly ten, the door opened.
“Mr. Parker, Miss Avery Sinclair is here.”
Ferdinand did not look up. “Let her in.”
Avery entered the room with professional composure, carrying a sleek portfolio. She wore a tailored cream blouse and navy skirt, her dark hair neatly tied back. This project could significantly elevate her firm, and she was determined to impress.
“Good morning, Mr. Parker,” she said politely. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
Only then did Ferdinand raise his eyes.
The moment their gazes locked, recognition hit both of them.
Avery’s expression tightened. This was the same rude man from the gala. The one who had completely ignored her apology.
Ferdinand’s face remained utterly blank, like stone. No surprise. No reaction. Just cold indifference.
Avery cleared her throat and began her presentation, displaying her concepts on the large screen. She explained her vision with clarity and passion, highlighting how the design would balance power with functionality. She kept her tone strictly professional despite the growing tension in the room.
When she finished, she turned to him. “Those are my initial proposals. I’m happy to make any adjustments you require.”
Ferdinand leaned back slowly in his chair. For several long seconds, he said nothing. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. His dark eyes studied her with a chilling detachment, as if she were an object being evaluated rather than a person.
“You,” he finally said, his voice low and frigid, “have quite the mouth.”
Avery stiffened. “Excuse me?”
He continued without warmth, his tone flat and cutting. “Most people who collide with me have the sense to apologize properly and disappear. You chose to insult me instead. Bold. And foolish.”
Avery’s hazel eyes flashed with anger. “I apologized twice. You acted like I didn’t exist. I didn’t realize basic human decency was beneath someone like you.”
Ferdinand’s expression did not change at all. Not a flicker of emotion. Not even irritation. Just pure, frozen indifference.
“Someone like me?” he repeated slowly, his voice dropping even lower. “You have no idea who I am. And yet you stand there running your mouth as if your opinion matters.”
He rose from his chair with deliberate slowness and walked around the table until he stood a few feet away from her. He towered over her, but his posture was relaxed, almost bored. His eyes remained cold and lifeless as he looked down at her.
“People who know me show respect. They understand their place. You clearly do not.”
Avery refused to back down, even though the temperature in the room felt like it had dropped ten degrees. “And I suppose you expect me to bow and scrape just because you have money and a big office? I don’t care who you are. Rudeness is still rudeness.”
Ferdinand stared at her for a long moment, completely unmoved. His face was a mask of ice. No anger. No amusement. Nothing.
“Interesting,” he said flatly. “You talk a lot for someone who came here begging for my business.”
Avery’s cheeks burned with humiliation and rage. “I am not begging. My work speaks for itself. If you don’t want it, I’ll gladly leave.”
Ferdinand turned away from her as if the conversation had already bored him. He walked back to his seat and sat down with effortless authority.
“You have the project,” he said coldly, without looking at her. “Claire will handle the contract. Do not waste my time with your personal grudges. Deliver results or I will replace you without hesitation.”
Avery stood there, stunned by how emotionless he was. It was like speaking to a wall made of ice.
She closed her portfolio with a sharp motion. “Don’t worry, Mr. Parker. I’ll do my job. And I’ll do it without expecting any basic courtesy from you.”
She turned and walked toward the door, her heels echoing in the silent room.
Just before she left, Ferdinand’s voice stopped her. Cold. Detached. Final.
“Miss Sinclair.”
Avery paused, her hand on the door handle.
“Next time you speak to me,” he said without raising his voice, “remember who owns this building. And who will own your firm’s future if I choose to make it difficult for you.”
He didn’t even look at her as he delivered the quiet threat.
Avery clenched her jaw and left without another word, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Ferdinand remained seated, staring at the city skyline through the glass wall. His face showed nothing. Inside, however, the memory of her defiance lingered like an itch he couldn’t scratch. She was the woman his family wanted him to marry.