The sleek black doors of the Vosstech top floor opened with a soft ding, but the moment Stephanie Quinn stepped out, she felt the air change—colder, sharper, laced with the kind of silence that threatened to snap.
She adjusted her blazer, refusing to show even a flicker of nerves.
"I've handled worse," she murmured to herself. "It's just a meeting."
She marched to the end of the hall, heels echoing like a challenge. The receptionist gave her a tight nod and gestured to the grand frosted-glass doors.
"Mr. Voss is expecting you."
Stephanie smirked. Good. Let him wait. She knocked once, then pushed the door open.
The man behind the desk didn't rise. He didn't smile. He barely looked up from the screen glowing on his desk.
"Ms Quinn," he said flatly, eyes flicking to her with all the warmth of a glacier. " What an unfortunate surprise."
Stephanie's brows shot up. "Unfortunate? And here I was thinking I'd be a breath of fresh air in this ice palace."
Nathan's jaw tightened, but he leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was a puzzle he already regretted touching.
"You're five minutes late."
"I'm five minutes bold," she shot back smoothly. "There's a difference."
His gaze narrowed. "Spare me the sass, Ms. Quinn. You're not here to impress me with wit. You're here to beg for a contract."
She laughed once—sharp, unapologetic. "Begging's not really my thing. But I'm happy to negotiate."
"Negotiate?" He stood slowly, circling the desk like a lion deciding whether to strike. "Your firm is irrelevant. Your portfolio's a joke. The only reason you're here is because someone above me was drunk enough to let you through the front door."
"Careful," she warned. "You're mistaking confidence for consent. I don't care how many billions Vosstech hoards—you don't get to talk down to me."
Nathan's smirk was razor-sharp. "I'll talk however I like. This is my company."
"But not legally," said a smug voice from the doorway.
They both turned. Damien strolled in, hands in his pockets, that easy grin plastered across his face like a badge.
"Nathan may enjoy playing king," Damien said, eyes sweeping over Stephanie, lingering. "But the crown's still on his father's head."
Nathan's face hardened. "Get out."
Stephanie crossed her arms, amused. "You two always this friendly, or did I walk into a family reunion?"
Damien ignored his cousin and stepped beside her, dropping his voice to something silkier. "Ms. Quinn, you look stunning. Let me guess—you're here to knock some sense into Vosstech?"
"I'm here to close a deal," she said coolly.
"I hope you'll let me help. I'd love to work closely with you." He leaned in just slightly. "Very closely."
Nathan's voice cut through the room like ice. "Damien. Leave. Now."
But Stephanie turned to Damien and held up a hand. "Let's make something clear—flirting with me during a business meeting is not the way to win points. So either act like a professional, or don't stand in my way."
Damien blinked. Then laughed, a genuine grin spreading. "God, you're fun."
Nathan was anything but amused. "She's not here for your amusement."
"And you're not CEO," Damien snapped. "So technically, you don't have the right to approve contracts. Only My Father does."
Stephanie's eyes flicked between them.
Nathan stepped forward, voice low and dangerous. "If you think I need Your father's permission to handle a preliminary deal, you clearly haven't been reading the transition papers you skimmed."
Damien's smile faded.
"I'm head of operations," Nathan continued. "And until the board signs the final transition, I run this floor, these departments, and the decision-making. So unless you'd like to find yourself reassigned to Facilities, I suggest you shut up and leave."
Damien's jaw clenched, his fists tightening. "You don't scare me, Voss."
"Then you're dumber than you look."
Damien stared him down for a beat—then threw Stephanie one last glance. "If you ever get tired of dictators, you know where to find me."
He stormed out, the door swinging shut behind him with a thud.
Stephanie let out a breath. "And here I thought I was the fire hazard in the room."
Nathan turned to her, stone-faced. "If you're done attracting strays, let's talk business."
She lifted her chin. "By all means. Unless you'd like to call in another cousin for backup?"
That earned her the faintest twitch of his lips—but no smile.
"You want this deal? Fine. I'll give you a chance to prove your firm isn't a complete waste of oxygen."
He walked back to his desk, pulled out a folder, and slapped it on the table in front of her.
"Inside is a tangled mess of data from our underperforming division in Berlin. Supply chain issues, missing shipments, vendor discrepancies—nothing's adding up. The team's been spinning in circles for six weeks."
Stephanie opened the folder, scanning the chaos of spreadsheets and reports.
Nathan watched her, cold amusement in his eyes.
"You have forty-eight hours to find the leak, draft a full report, and propose a solution. Miss the deadline, or if your work is anything less than flawless, the deal's off. And you can tell your boss she bet on the wrong horse."
Stephanie snapped the folder shut. "That's not a task. That's a punishment."
"Then consider it a preview of what it takes to survive in my world."
She stepped closer, lifting her chin defiantly. "You can't scare me, Voss. I grew up dealing with sharks twice your size."
"I'm not a shark," he said coldly. "I'm the ocean."
Stephanie smiled sweetly. "Then you better hope I don't learn how to swim faster than you sink."
Nathan's eyes darkened. "Get out of my office."
"With pleasure."
She turned and walked out, head held high, the folder tucked under one arm like a trophy.
Damien was waiting near the elevator, arms crossed. "He gave you the Berlin case, didn't he?"
She stopped, surprised. "You knew?"
"I've been trying to untangle that mess for weeks. He gave it to you to bury you."
Stephanie shrugged. "Then I'll dig my way out. Maybe I'll even solve it."
Damien's eyes sparkled. "You're really something, you know that?"
She smirked. "Don't fall for me, Damien. I'm allergic to distractions."
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside.
Damien watched her go, the ghost of a grin still on his lips.
Inside his office, Nathan stood at the window, watching the city.
And scowling.