Why not...
Just go along with the flow and keep her right under my nose.
Invite the fox into the henhouse.
A glimmer of cold calculation flickered in Gwyneth’s eyes, gone so quickly it was almost invisible.
She picked up the heavy file she’d set aside earlier, and with the air of someone making a trivial decision, handed it to Serena.
Her face was as composed and businesslike as ever, her tone detached, betraying nothing:
“If you’re so confident, then give it a try.”
She agreed!
A surge of joy rushed through Serena, but she quickly schooled her expression, forcing down her excitement. With a steady hand, she accepted the file and nodded emphatically.
“I understand, Ms. Fletcher. Thank you for giving me this opportunity—I won’t let you down!”
Gwyneth gestured for her to go, and Serena offered a respectful nod before heading out.
Bring it on, then. Whatever comes, I’ll handle it.
She’d never been afraid of rivals.
What she feared was having none.
————————
Before anyone realized it, the day of the bidding conference arrived.
In the city government’s imposing, rather stuffy main hall, representatives from various firms gathered—exchanging polite nods, but their eyes sharp with silent rivalry and assessment.
Julian strode in with the poise of a man on a mission, dressed in a tailored suit, Queenie on his arm, her makeup flawless. He wore the calm, assured smile of someone who already knew he’d won—like this wasn’t a competition, but an award ceremony with his name on the trophy.
His projects had hit snags lately—he’d managed to contain the fallout, but a few board veterans were growing restless. This Calmgrove City senior living project was his masterstroke, the one he’d poured everything into, determined to win at all costs.
It wasn’t just a lucrative contract. It was his chance to restore his reputation and secure his position.
Even more crucially, he’d heard whispers that his dear brother Bennett was busy dealing with some shake-up in internal shares. His funds were tied up in emerging overseas markets, leaving him neither the time nor resources to chase after this domestic government deal.
Scanning the room, Julian confirmed his suspicions—none of the other companies’ reps posed any real threat to the Locke Group. The potential competitors were either too weak or obviously underprepared.
“Looks like today will be a breeze,” Queenie murmured in his ear, her tone a mix of flattery and delight.
Julian’s lips curled in a faint smile. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze razor sharp as he surveyed the hall.
“It’s times like these we need to be even more careful. Make sure our numbers are bulletproof.”

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