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Chapter 8 Acting CEO

  • Ace let out a scoff, “Ms. Quinn, I don't think that is what you should be worried about right now.”
  • The directors exchanged glances, whispering to each other, leaving Zara confused as if she had asked a forbidden question.
  • Zavier quickly stood up and leaned closer to Zara whispering, “Zara, let's talk about this later. Focus on your goal for now.”
  • Zara gritted her teeth with anger as she inhaled deeply, willing her trembling fingers to still.
  • “I am here,” she began, her voice faltering slightly, “not just to honor my father’s vision…” Her throat tightened, and for a moment, her mind blanked. But then, Zavier gave her a small nod, his silent support grounding her.
  • “…but to work alongside you to push this company to new heights,” she finished, her voice stronger now.
  • A faint murmur spread across the room, leaving Zara feeling bare.
  • Mrs. Preston exchanged a skeptical glance with another director, while Mr. Marcus offered an approving nod.
  • Nadia Hamilton’s slender fingers drummed against the table, her face ridden with amusement rather than respect.
  • “Ms. Quinn,” Mrs. Preston’s voice was sharp, deliberate. “You’ve been a housewife for the past seven years. Jumping into the company just because your parents own it…is that really what you need right now?”
  • The words landed like a slap, sharp and stinging.
  • Zara’s spine stiffened, the flush creeping up her neck betraying her frustration. But she tried to remain calm.
  • “Maybe not,” she replied evenly, though her hands tightened into fists beneath the table. “But sitting at home doesn’t help anyone, least of all this company. I’m here to channel everything I’ve got into proving my place, and instead of demanding leadership, I’ve chosen to work my way up.”
  • Her poised response earned a murmured approval from a few directors, while others remained cold.
  • “Interesting,” Nadia drawled, her lips curving into a faint smirk. She leaned forward, her voice dripping with mockery, “But the industry doesn’t run on energy alone, Ms. Quinn. You need talent, experience, and a sharp brain. Do you even have those?”
  • Zara felt the knot in her stomach tighten, her pulse pounding in her ears. Across the table, Zavier shifted, his jaw tightening as if he were about to intervene.
  • But before he could, Ace’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
  • “She’s right,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair.
  • Every head turned toward him. Ace’s hazel eyes glinted with an unreadable expression as they locked onto Zara.
  • “You have a first-class degree in Design and Architecture,” he continued, his voice calm yet stinging. “But you’ve been dormant for the past seven years, playing housewife. Tell us, Ms. Quinn, what can you contribute to this company without leaning exclusively on the ‘Daddy card’?” He lifted his fingers in air quotes as he said the last two words.
  • The room fell silent.
  • Zara’s chest tightened, anger and humiliation bubbling within her. Her fingers dug into her palms as she fought to steady her breathing.
  • Daddy card? Of all people, Ace had no right to speak to her like that.
  • Zavier pushed his chair back, halfway to his feet, his face flushed with anger. Zara raised a hand, stopping him.
  • This was her fight.
  • Rising to her feet, Zara met Ace’s gaze head-on, her fury burning away the initial sting of his words.
  • “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Carter,” she said, her voice cool but sharp as a blade. “Yes, I’ve been a housewife for seven years. Do you know what you learn in seven years of raising a family? Discipline. Patience. Strategy. Skills most 9 to 5 workers lack.”
  • She walked toward the projector, connecting her laptop with steady hands. Within seconds, an old sketch appeared on the screen—a design of the company’s main lobby.
  • “This was one of my first designs, completed when I was ten years old,” Zara began, her voice steady. “Yes, I copied my father’s work at the time. But it taught me the basics.”
  • The slide switched, revealing a sleek, modern house design.
  • “This is my most recent work, a proposal I completed last month, after my divorce.” Her voice softened slightly at the word, but her resolve didn’t waver.
  • “Maybe I’ve been out of the game for years, but this?” She gestured to the projector screen. “This is what I can accomplish at my lowest. Imagine what I’ll achieve now that I’m just getting started.”
  • Her words hung in the air like a challenge, and her gaze swept between Nadia and Ace.
  • Nadia’s smirk faltered, her arms crossing defensively over her chest.
  • Meanwhile, Ace leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, a smirk tugging his lip.
  • That smirk! It was the same one he used to wear when they were kids, just before he dared her to do something reckless.
  • Back then, she’d trusted him. Now, it made her blood boil.
  • “Beautiful work,” Mr. Marcus exclaimed, breaking the silence with a clap. “I’ve never doubted your abilities, Ms. Quinn, but you’ve just reminded us all why this company will thrive under the Quinn legacy.”
  • Zara allowed herself a small, victorious smile. This wasn’t luck. This was her hard work. But then if Ace had not provoked her like he did, she might never have been so confident.
  • Ace clapped lightly, letting out a small giggle, “Impressive. Looks like I’ll enjoy having you under me…as the acting CEO.”
  • Zara froze, her eyes widening in disbelief, “W—what…”
  • Zara could barely form a word when Zavier's phone went off.
  • His face was ridden with guilt as he stood up and ended the meeting, escaping from the room before Zara's piercing glare could catch him.
  • The directors slowly left the room in pairs but Zara's eyes didn't leave Ace.
  • “C-CEO? How?” she demanded, breaking the silence.
  • Ace’s lips quivered into a faint smile, his gaze unwavering. “Oh, Zavier didn’t tell you?” he asked shaking his head mockingly.
  • “He must be out of his mind! I won't accept this! Never!” Zara snapped.
  • Ace straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You should take it up with your brother. I don’t report to you.”
  • He turned to leave, his movements slow and deliberate, as if daring her to stop him.
  • Zara’s temper flared. She stormed after him, her voice rising. “This is my company, Ace. You don’t get to just walk away…”
  • She barely finished the sentence before Ace stopped abruptly, his sharp turn forcing her to stumble.
  • Zara’s foot slipped, and she felt herself falling backward. But before she could hit the ground, Ace’s strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright.
  • Her palms pressed against his chest, heat radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt.
  • His grip on her waist tightened, his breath warm against her face.
  • Their eyes locked. His eyes were no longer cold but filled with something unreadable. For a second, everything else faded.
  • Ace’s grip on her waist tightened slightly, his voice low. “Careful, Zara. You wouldn’t want to fall again.”
  • “Again?” Her mind raced. The way he held her, the faint smirk on his lips…he seemed too familiar, almost as if…
  • Her mind flashed back to that night on the bridge…
  • But she quickly shook her head. ‘No. It can't be him.’