"Yes, right there," Zara ordered the man arranging her desk right beside Ace's in his office.
Ace glanced up from his files, his sharp hazel eyes narrowing. "What's going on here?" His voice carried the slightest hint of disbelief.
Zara flashed a bright, unapologetic smile as she set her bag on the desk. "Moving in, obviously." She motioned for the handyman to leave. "Zavier didn't tell you we'd be sharing an office?"
Ace leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze cool and assessing. "What? Why?"
Zara's grin widened as she settled into her seat. "You should take it up with my brother. I don't report to you."
Ace let out a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. "Suit yourself."
Zara rolled her eyes as she opened her laptop, pretending to focus on her screen. But her eyes kept darting toward Ace, who had already returned to his work, completely unfazed by her presence.
The silence grew unbearable.
Eventually, she let out an exasperated sigh as she rose to her feet and walked up to him.
"Umm…about the Fernandez Project. Is the budget ready?" Zara faked a cough, hoping to catch his attention.
Ace didn't flinch, his focus glued to his laptop.
"Ace!" she snapped, slamming her hand on the desk.
Ace's pen paused mid-stroke, and for a brief second, his lips curved into the faintest smirk. He raised his gaze slowly, his sharp brown eyes locking onto hers. "Oh, me? I thought you were talking to Zavier. You know, the one you report to?"
Zara's jaw tightened as her nails dug into her palms. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, here we are." Ace gestured at the office they now shared, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Zara exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, can you just tell me if the budget is ready or not?"
Ace leaned back, his lips twitching with amusement. "Ask nicely, and maybe I'll answer."
Zara closed her eyes for a moment, biting back a sharp retort. "Fine. Mr. Carter, is the financial budget for the Fernandez Project ready?"
Ace rocked his chair lazily, letting the silence drag before answering. "No."
"No?" she repeated, her voice rising.
"The pitch is just in two days and the design team isn't even halfway done," Ace replied with maddening calmness. "Worry about your department before poking your nose into mine."
Zara's eyes widened. "You didn't think to tell me the project deadline is in two days?"
Ace smirked. "I just did."
"Unbelievable!"
Zara glared at him, her frustration bubbling over. Without another word, she grabbed her tablet and stormed out of the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
Ace watched her go, shaking his head with a faint smile. "This is going to be interesting," he murmured.
As Zara approached the design department, the muffled sound of voices and laughter seeped through the ajar door. She paused, her hand hovering over the handle.
"Did you hear? She moved into Ace Carter's office. Bold move for someone who's been out of the game for years."
Another voice chimed in. "She's lucky she has the Quinn name. Without it, no one would take her seriously."
"Right? I mean, a divorced single mom? Not exactly boardroom material."
"Guys, let's give her a break. She's got the name and the connections, sure. But let's see if she can actually deliver."
The words hit her like a punch to the gut, her breath catching in her throat. Her hand trembled, but she gritted her teeth, willing herself to push the door open.
The chatter stopped instantly.
"Good day, everyone," Zara said, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. Her sharp voice echoed in the now-silent office, her chin held high. "Who's in charge of the Fernandez Project?"
A woman with perfectly styled hair and a smug expression raised her hand. "That would be me, Ms. Quinn. Vivian Bruce."
She was the one who had made the statement about Zara using the 'Quinn's' name.
Zara's eyes zeroed in on her. "Ms. Bruce," she said, stepping closer, "I'd like to see the designs you've prepared."
Vivian hesitated but eventually handed over a file. Zara flipped through the pages, her expression unreadable.
"Where are the rest?" she asked, her tone sharp.
Vivian blinked. "Well, I did that in two weeks. I'm working on two more…"
"Two simple designs in two weeks, and you plan to finish two more in two days? Interesting math. Care to explain?"
Vivian's eyes widened in disbelief, "Two days? Isn't the pitch still a week…"
"Yes. Two days!" Ace's deep voice cut through the tension like a blade as he strolled into the room, his sleeves rolled up, his hands in his pockets.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The disdain in the staff's eyes disappeared, replaced by a nervous eagerness to please him.
Zara's jaw tightened as she turned to face him, her gaze lingering briefly on the veins in his forearms before snapping back to his infuriatingly composed face. There was something strangely captivating about the effortless way he carried himself.
"Finish the third design by tomorrow," Zara instructed Vivian, her voice firm. "I'll handle the fourth. We'll finalize everything with the finance team and prepare the pitch."
A low gasp rippled through the room. As easy as it sounded, the tasks weren't something anyone could do in two days, especially not someone who hasn't been in the game for 7 long years.
"Ms. Quinn, with all due respect, this workload isn't realistic," a staff member said hesitantly.
Zara smiled, her gaze sweeping over the room, lingering on each face. "Well, I will take up the challenge. I still have to prove, I am more than just the name." She added, confirming that she heard their gossip.
With that ,she started towards the door. As she walked past Ace she paused, looking at everyone again, "And just so we're clear, I expect professionalism from this team. If anyone has concerns about my qualifications, my door is always open." Her tone was light, almost pleasant, but her words carried an unmistakable edge.
"I will take this with me." She added, tightening her grip on the file as she walked briskly out of the office. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a mix of anger and humiliation.
The gossipy stares, the dismissive comments, the way the entire room seemed to bow the moment Ace walked in. It was like a slap to her already fragile confidence.
As soon as the door to her office shut behind her, she slumped against her desk, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge for support. The icy facade she'd worn just moments ago melted away.
This was supposed to be her company. Her territory. Yet he invaded it and took the power she was supposed to wield.
Tears threatened the corners of her eyes, but just then, the door flung open and Ace walked in.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.
"You handled that well." Ace's calm voice carried through the room as he walked in, his sleeves still rolled up, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Zara stiffened, her vulnerability vanishing as she straightened."Are you having fun?" Her voice was sharp, laced with bitterness.
Ace paused, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Zara turned to face him, her eyes burning red. "What do you take me for, Ace? A joke? Do you have to swoop in every time and make me look small?"
Ace blinked, caught off guard. "I only said three words…"
"It's not what you said!" Zara snapped, cutting him off. "It's you. Your presence alone undermines me. They don't respect me; they tolerate me because you're here. Do you have any idea how that feels?"
Ace's jaw tightened, but his expression remained calm. "Zara, if you want respect, earn it."
"Oh, spare me the lecture!" she shot back, stepping closer. "You walk in here like you own the place, and everyone falls at your feet. For fuck's sake you have an empire to run! What are you doing here playing hero? Why do you want to steal—"
"I'm here because your brother couldn't handle the mess," Ace interrupted, his voice rising slightly. "You think I enjoy babysitting a sinking ship? Your family's empire was on the verge of bankruptcy before I stepped in."
Zara flinched at the words, her anger faltering for a moment.
Ace took a step closer, his hazel eyes locking onto hers. "If you're mad, take it up with Zavier. He's the one who left this place vulnerable. Or your father. He is the one who let himself…" He stopped mid-sentence, catching himself.
Zara's gaze narrowed. "Let himself what?"
Ace's expression flickered, but he quickly masked it, stepping back. "Forget it."
Zara crossed her arms, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Typical. Always leaving things half-said."
Ace's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Fine. Secure the Fernandez Project in two days. If you do, I'll resign. You'll have your company back. No interference."
Zara stared at him, her eyes wide. "Are you serious?"
Ace's phone buzzed, cutting off his response. He glanced at the screen, and Zara noticed the subtle shift in his expression. The tension in his jaw eased, replaced by something softer. Warmer.
"Two days," he repeated before answering the call. He turned and started walking toward the glass door, his tone noticeably warmer. "Hey, Gina. "Hey, Gina."
Zara froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat. The name echoed in her mind like an unwanted melody.
Gina Bennett.
Of course, it had to be her.
The only person that came out of nowhere and ruined what was supposed to be the best part of her highschool and social life.
'Gina,' Zara thought bitterly, gripping the edgeMs her desk as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. 'Of course, it's Gina. Who else could bring out that stupid warmth in him?'
She shook her head sharply, trying to dispel the thoughts, but her eyes betrayed her as they flicked toward the glass door. Ace was pacing slowly, his back to her, his hand running through his hair—a nervous habit she hadn't seen in years.
Curiosity burned in her chest, overpowering her better judgment. Her feet moved before her brain caught up, and before she knew it, she was at the door, her hand hesitating on the handle.
The glass didn't block sound entirely, but she still had to strain her ears.
"I'm sorry, it totally escaped my mind. Where are you right now?" Ace's voice drifted through, soft and apologetic, a tone he once used for her— only her.
Zara's jaw tightened. 'Apologetic? Since when does Ace Carter apologize?'
She could barely hear Gina's response, but whatever it was made Ace chuckle softly—a low, intimate sound that sent a jolt of something unpleasant through Zara's chest.
"Oh, me?" Ace said, running his hand through his hair again, his movements oddly restless. "I'm at the—gym."
Zara's lips parted, disbelief flickering across her face. 'The gym? Really?' She almost laughed aloud at how ridiculous it sounded.
The almighty Ace Carter, stammering like a teenager trying to impress his woman? Beautiful!
Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket, its ringtone sharply cutting through the moment.
Ace stopped pacing, his head snapping toward the glass door. His sharp eyes scanned the room beyond, narrowing slightly.
Zara cursed under her breath, fumbling to silence the phone. She pressed herself against the door, her heart pounding as she prayed he wouldn't open it.
After a tense few seconds, Ace's gaze shifted away, and he resumed his conversation, his voice now a low murmur.
Zara exhaled shakily, her fingers still trembling as she pulled out her phone. She didn't even check the caller ID before answering, her voice coming out harsher than she intended. "Yes?"
"Is this Ms. Zara Quinn?" a feminine voice on the other end asked.
"Yes," Zara replied, still distracted, her eyes flicking back toward the glass door where Ace was pacing.
"I'm Ms. Vegas from Heritage Heights Elementary School. I need you to come to the school. Your kids got into a fight."
The words hit her like a slap, wiping away all traces of her earlier thoughts. Her hand tightened around the phone as her pulse quickened. "What? Are they okay?"