The morning following the meeting at The Obsidian Club was a frenzy of media speculation. The blurred photo of Nora Quinn stepping into Caspian Thorne's car was the only thing people in Northport were talking about. For the public, it was a scandal; for Julian Sterling, it was an execution.
Nora sat in her office at Quinn International, watching the news ticker. She was wearing a cream-colored silk blouse and a gold necklace that was a family heirloom. She looked soft, approachable, and utterly lethal.
"Julian is downstairs," Sarah said, her voice tight with suppressed excitement. "He's bypassed the reception. He's causing a scene, claiming he has 'husband's rights' to see you. The security team is holding him in the lobby, but the press is already gathering outside the glass doors."
Nora stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Let him up, Sarah. And make sure the double doors to the boardroom remain open. I want every employee on this floor to hear what a 'virtuous man' Julian Sterling truly is."
Five minutes later, the elevator doors hissed open. Julian burst onto the executive floor, his face a mask of wounded pride and desperate rage. He looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in two days. Behind him, three security guards followed at a cautious distance, looking to Nora for a signal to take him down.
"Nora! What the hell is this?" Julian screamed, waving a crumpled newspaper in the air. "Thorne? You're sleeping with Caspian Thorne now? Is that how you're funding this little rebellion? Selling yourself to the highest bidder because I wouldn't give you enough allowance?"
The office went silent. Dozens of staff members paused over their keyboards, their heads turning toward the confrontation.
Nora didn't flinch. She walked out from behind her desk and stood in the center of the open-plan office, her arms crossed. "Julian, you're embarrassing yourself. You're shouting about 'allowances' in a building that could buy your family's entire estate ten times over. As for Caspian Thorne... he's a business associate. Something you wouldn't understand, seeing as you prefer 'conveniences' over 'partners.'"
"Associate? He's a predator!" Julian took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, trembling hiss. "You think he cares about you? He's using you to get to me. He's using your body to get a foothold in my project. How could you be so cheap, Nora? After everything I did for you? I took you in when you were a nobody! I gave you a name!"
Nora's eyes flashed with a cold, predatory light. She reached into her folder and pulled out a single, laminated sheet of paper—the ledger page Caspian had given her.
"You took me in, Julian?" Nora's voice was quiet, but it carried to the furthest corner of the room. "Let's talk about that. Let's talk about the 'charity' you showed me three years ago."
She held up the paper so the staff—and the few photographers who had managed to sneak into the lobby below—could see the banking stamps.
"Three years ago, I was the top-ranked student at the Royal Institute of Architecture. I had a full-ride scholarship. Then, suddenly, it was revoked. My father was told it was because of his bankruptcy. I was told I had no future. And then, like a 'hero,' you appeared. You offered me marriage. You offered me 'protection' from a world that had rejected me."
Julian's face went from red to a ghostly, translucent white. He tried to speak, but only a dry croak came out.
"But this ledger," Nora continued, stepping into his personal space, "shows a two-million-dollar 'endowment' made by the Sterling Group to the Royal Institute's scholarship fund on the exact day my rejection letter was mailed. And here... a signature from your personal assistant authorizing a 'processing fee' to have my specific file flagged for academic misconduct."
A collective gasp went up from the office.
"You didn't save me, Julian," Nora whispered, her voice like a jagged shard of ice. "You crippled me. You broke my legs so you could feel powerful for handing me a crutch. You stole my career, my dreams, and three years of my life just so you wouldn't have to worry about your wife being smarter than you."
Julian backed away, his eyes darting around the room. He saw the looks on the faces of Nora's employees—disgust, horror, and a simmering fury.
"I did it for us!" Julian finally burst out, a pathetic, desperate defense. "You were going to go to London! You were going to leave me behind! I loved you, Nora! I had to make sure you stayed!"
"You didn't love me," Nora said, her voice ringing out with finality. "You obsessed over me. You treated me like a piece of intellectual property you hadn't quite secured yet. Well, consider the contract voided, Julian."
She turned to her security team. "Throw him out. And if he ever sets foot on Quinn property again, have him arrested for trespassing and corporate espionage."
As the guards grabbed Julian's arms, he began to struggle, his polished facade completely shattered. "Nora! You can't do this! We're still married in the eyes of the church! You owe me—"
The elevator doors shut on his screams.
Nora stood in the center of the floor, her chest rising and falling with the first breath of true freedom she had taken in years. The entire office erupted into spontaneous applause.
She turned to Sarah. "Call Caspian. Tell him the first phase of the 'Face-Slap' is complete. Now, I want to move on to the 'Sterling Heights' demolition. I want that building leveled—legally and physically—by the end of the month."
Later that evening, Nora sat in the library of the Quinn mansion, the heavy ledger still open on the table. The "Face-Slap" had felt good, but the revelation of Julian's sabotage had left a wound that pride couldn't heal. She had lost three years of her professional life to a lie.
A shadow fell across the doorway.
"You handled that with more grace than I expected," Caspian said, leaning against the frame. He was dressed in a simple black sweater and dark trousers, looking less like a CEO and more like a midnight marauder. "Most women would have slapped him. You just dismantled his soul."
"Slapping him would have been a temporary release," Nora said, not looking up. "Dismantling him is a long-term investment."
Caspian walked over and sat on the edge of the desk. He reached out and closed the ledger, his hand resting near hers. "The news is already viral. Julian's reputation is in the dirt. His board is meeting tonight to discuss a 'morality clause' termination. He's losing everything, Nora. Are you satisfied?"
Nora finally looked up at him. "Not yet. I want to build something better than what he stole. I don't just want to destroy the Sterlings; I want to overshadow them so completely that their name becomes a footnote in Northport's history."
Caspian's eyes darkened with a mixture of respect and something more primal. "I can help you with that. But it's going to require a move that might make even you uncomfortable."
"What is it?"
"The city is looking for a new architect for the Waterfront Revitalization Project. It's the biggest contract in the history of the state. If you win it—under your own name, as Nora Quinn—you won't just be the woman who took down Julian Sterling. You'll be the woman who built the new Northport."
"And the catch?"
Caspian leaned in closer, the scent of sandalwood and rain-soaked earth filling her senses. "The catch is that to win it, you'll need a partner with the political capital to push the board. You'll need me. And the world will see us not just as 'associates,' but as a power couple. Are you ready for that kind of spotlight, Nora?"
Nora looked at Caspian's hand, then into his stormy eyes. The danger was there, but so was the opportunity.
"I've spent three years in the shadows, Caspian. I think I'm ready for the sun."
She reached out and took his hand, her fingers interlacing with his. The alliance was no longer just about business. It was becoming something much more volatile.