Vivian Montgomery had never been outplayed before. Not by a man, not by a rival, and certainly not by a dog. Yet, standing under the gleaming sun at the Lancaster estate, feeling the sting of Apollo's rejection, she realized this challenge was unlike any she had ever faced.
But Vivian was not one to accept defeat. If Apollo did not like her, she would change the game.
The next day, Vivian immersed herself in research. She had a personal assistant who was skilled at uncovering even the most obscure details, and within hours, she had everything she needed to know about Dobermans, their psychology, and—more importantly—what might make Apollo tick.
Dogs, she learned, were creatures of habit. They bonded through consistency, patience, and rewards. More importantly, Dobermans were fiercely loyal and suspicious of strangers. If she wanted to win Apollo's trust, she had to become more than an occasional presence—she had to embed herself in his world.
Her opportunity arrived sooner than expected.
Damian was scheduled to attend a charity polo match that weekend, an event attended by the elite and covered extensively by the press. Vivian made sure she was there—strategically positioned, of course.
When Damian arrived, dressed in a crisp white polo shirt and navy trousers, he was the embodiment of effortless power. But Vivian's attention was on Apollo, trotting beside him, ears alert and watchful.
She approached cautiously, ensuring Damian saw her before Apollo did. "Mr. Lancaster," she greeted smoothly, her tone warm but controlled. "I see Apollo is still as vigilant as ever."
Damian's lips curved into a half-smirk. "He doesn't warm up easily."
Vivian chuckled softly. "I admire that about him. Loyalty is a rare thing."
She kept her movements slow and deliberate, lowering herself slightly to appear less imposing to Apollo. She extended a hand—not toward him, but near him—allowing him to decide whether to approach.
Apollo's deep brown eyes remained locked onto hers. He sniffed the air, muscles taut, before giving the slightest twitch of his ears.
Vivian suppressed a smirk. It wasn't acceptance, but it wasn't outright hostility either. It was progress.
The next few weeks were a carefully choreographed performance. Vivian made herself present at every social event where Damian and Apollo would be. She didn't force interactions, didn't demand attention. Instead, she became consistent.
She would be in Damian's orbit just enough for Apollo to recognize her. She observed his routines, noting the way Damian fed him, the way he responded to certain commands. She even researched the brand of treats he preferred and subtly arranged for a box to be 'accidentally' left at one of Damian's events, a small but deliberate gesture.
Little by little, Apollo's reactions changed. The growling ceased. His posture softened—just slightly. He would glance at her, no longer with suspicion but with mild curiosity.
The first time he actually took a treat from her hand, she knew she was winning.
One evening, after a private business gala, Vivian found herself walking alongside Damian through the estate gardens. Apollo was, as always, at his side.
"You've been persistent," Damian noted, glancing at her with amusement.
Vivian smiled knowingly. "Some things are worth the effort."
Damian studied her, his expression unreadable. "Apollo's approval isn't easy to earn."
Vivian glanced down at the dog. "I wouldn't respect him if it were."
There was a beat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, Damian extended his hand toward her.
"Walk with me," he said.
Vivian hesitated only for a fraction of a second before slipping her hand into his. As they strolled through the moonlit garden, Apollo walking ahead, she felt something shift.
She wasn't just an outsider anymore. She was inside the game.
And soon, she would be in his heart.