The kiss and the slap lingered in Mara's mind far longer than she wanted. Every time she tried to focus on her work, her thoughts wandered back to that charged moment in the studio, Ryder's intense gaze, his calm reaction to her slap, and the unspoken promise in his words. She wasn't sure if she wanted to scream at him or… well, she wouldn't even entertain the alternative.
She arrived at the studio that morning ready for a fight. If Ryder thought he could push her around and control her, he was about to learn that Mara Yang wasn't some pawn in his corporate games.
As she stepped into her office, she was surprised to see Ryder already there, going through a stack of paperwork on her desk. His eyes lifted as she entered, and a faint smile touched his lips.
"Good morning, Mara," he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. "Glad you're on time. We have a lot to cover."
She bristled. "Are you planning to go through my entire office before I get here?"
He raised an eyebrow, unruffled. "I like to understand what I'm working with. And you seem to have a habit of leaving things disorganized."
She gritted her teeth, unwilling to let him get under her skin. "I have my own system. It works."
"Really?" He lifted a stack of papers, arching an eyebrow. "Because this says otherwise."
Mara took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "Look, I don't need you judging my methods. Just tell me what changes you want so we can get through this quickly."
Ryder's smirk widened, and she felt her irritation flare. He seemed to enjoy pushing her buttons, like he was testing her limits.
"Alright," he said, his tone dropping a shade as he placed the papers back on her desk. "We'll start with finances. The studio has a solid foundation, but you're bleeding resources on unnecessary expenses."
Mara crossed her arms. "Such as?"
"Look around you," he replied, gesturing to the various paintings and sculptures filling the room. "I'm not saying the art isn't valuable, but there's a smarter way to display it. Limit the number of pieces at a time. Feature a few highlights, create exclusivity, and rotate them to keep people coming back."
She opened her mouth to argue but paused. His logic was maddeningly sound, and she knew he was right. Still, admitting it to him would feel like surrender.
"Fine," she said slowly. "We can try that temporarily."
"Good," he replied, his gaze holding hers. "I'll handle arranging the first rotation. Your job is to prepare an artist showcase. Something special that'll make clients feel they're getting a unique experience."
Mara felt her pulse quicken. Organizing an event like that was no small task, especially on such short notice. But she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hesitate. "I can handle that," she said, her voice steady. "But if you're making all these demands, you'd better be willing to step up when it counts."
Ryder's eyes darkened with intrigue. "Oh, I intend to. I'm not here to play games, Mara. I want this place to succeed just as much as you do." His voice softened, carrying a weight that made her chest tighten. "You may not believe it, but I have a vision for this place, one that aligns with your father's."
The mention of her father's name brought a pang of emotion she wasn't prepared for, and she looked away, not wanting Ryder to see the vulnerability in her eyes. "My father's vision… wasn't about money or profit," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. "It was about giving people a place to express themselves. To make them feel like they belonged."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. When she glanced back at Ryder, his expression had softened slightly, the calculating edge replaced by something gentler, something almost… understanding.
"I know," he said quietly. "And I'm not here to take that away. But if you want this place to survive, sometimes you have to make hard choices. You know that as well as I do."
The vulnerability in his gaze threw her off balance, and for a moment, she felt the tension between them shift, becoming something less combative. She could feel the wall she'd built around herself wavering.
"Maybe you're right," she admitted reluctantly, the words tasting strange on her tongue. "But I don't have to like it."
His mouth lifted in a small, almost genuine smile. "Good. I'd be worried if you did." He looked at her, his gaze intent, almost searching. "You know, for someone so passionate, you seem determined to see me as the enemy."
"Maybe because you act like one," she retorted, though there was no real anger in her voice now. Just frustration and… something else she couldn't name.
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between them. "Then stop fighting me at every turn," he said softly. "Trust me, just a little. If we're going to make this work, we need to be on the same side."
Mara felt her resolve slip, her breath catching as she looked up at him. There was something in his eyes that made her heart race, something she'd refused to acknowledge since they'd first crossed paths.
But she wouldn't let herself get distracted. Not by him. She straightened, holding his gaze with all the confidence she could muster. "I'll trust you, Ryder. But I won't let you control me. Remember that."
His smile turned challenging, a spark of admiration flickering in his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Mara."
As he turned to leave, she felt a strange mix of relief and anticipation. Ryder Hale was unpredictable, infuriating, and insufferably arrogant, but beneath that cold exterior, she sensed something she couldn't quite ignore. Something that both intrigued and terrified her.
As the door closed behind him, Mara exhaled, already planning how she would tackle the showcase. If Ryder wanted to push her, she would push back twice as hard.
But the thought of what lay ahead sent a thrill through her she wasn't ready to admit. This war of wills between them was only beginning, and deep down, she couldn't deny that part of her looked forward to the battle.