Arianna felt both touched and emboldened, though a flutter of anxiety persisted in her chest. She was terrified of failing, of squandering the faith placed in her.

Miranda seemed to see right through her trepidation. She gave a knowing, tight-lipped smile. "I’ve done my part. The rest of the path is entirely up to you."

"If you aren't up to the task, it’s fine. There are plenty of others lining up to take that seat." Miranda’s tone was clinical, devoid of warmth. "I won’t pull any punches either. If you stumble, you’re back to being a nobody. I’ve given you the opportunity; it’s yours to lose."

"Understood," Arianna said, thanking her again. "I’ll make sure to make it count."

"Good," Miranda nodded in approval, satisfied with her choice. "I’ll call Charlotte Marshall and have her come pick you up."

—

The news tore through the department before noon.

When Diana James heard the update, she made a deliberate choice to ditch her usual iced lemonade, instead marching up to Arianna’s desk with two boba teas in hand, her voice ringing clear through the office. "Boss, your boba!"

Arianna froze. "..."

She could have buried her face in her desk. "Shh..."

Diana just grinned, chewing on her straw. "Who would’ve thought? I’ve officially latched onto a high-flyer." She shook her head in mock disbelief. "I can’t even imagine it. I should go buy a lottery ticket today; my luck is clearly peaking."

...

Meanwhile, inside the private office, Jenna Lawson whispered, her voice tight with resentment. "Miranda, that’s not what you said before."

The moment word got out that Arianna had joined Charlotte Marshall’s project team as an assistant, Jenna had felt her blood pressure skyrocket. She’d been stewing in silent, suffocating rage all morning. The more she thought about it, the more the injustice gnawed at her. What kind of spell had Arianna cast on Miranda to get her to waste so much effort grooming a complete rookie?

Miranda didn't even look up. "And what did I say, exactly?"

"You said that if I could prove myself, I would be the one to take over Arianna’s workload."

"And how does Arianna joining Charlotte’s team change that?"

Jenna was left stammering. "But..."

She had assumed Miranda meant that as soon as she took over the old tasks, Arianna would be sidelined or moved to some dead-end role once the rotation ended. She never imagined Arianna would leapfrog right over her, effectively becoming her superior in the new hierarchy. Jenna couldn’t swallow that bitter pill.

She took a sharp breath and gathered the nerve to ask, "I just want to know why you sent Arianna there...?"

Miranda finally looked up from behind her desk, glancing at her with a faint, chilling smile. "That was my decision. I don't owe you an explanation."

She flipped open a file, dismissing Jenna without a second look. "Several senior staff have flagged your recent drop in efficiency and an uptick in errors. Keep your head in the game."

"If you can't hack it, I’ll have you transferred back to your old post. You can go back to filling out spreadsheets." Miranda’s gaze sharpened, cutting through Jenna’s excuses. "And for heaven's sake, focus on the work, not the office politics."

The rebuke left Jenna burning with shame. She opened her mouth to argue, but seeing Miranda already buried in paperwork, she realized there was no room for negotiation. She shut her mouth, stepped out, and pulled the door shut behind her.

Back in the quiet office, Miranda stopped her pen, leaning back to rub her temples. Jenna’s ego was her undoing. How could she explain to her that the tighter you grip the things you don't deserve, the more they become the demons that hold you back?

—

The sun had already dipped below the horizon. The dying rays of the sunset bathed the dining table in a soft, amber glow, casting long, gilded shadows across the polished floor.

Arianna sat in the light, her hair tipped in gold. She was wearing a floral sundress, her eyes bright and dancing with excitement as she recounted her promotion.

Maxwell set down his chopsticks, listening with rapt attention before offering a gentle, indulgent smile. "That’s incredible."

Arianna tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, laughing softly. "Honestly, I owe you. If you hadn't talked me through it back then, I would’ve been completely lost."

Back when the department split into groups and she was the only one assigned to work independently, she had spiraled. She’d spent every waking hour wondering what she’d done wrong, convinced her manager was icing her out in front of the whole team just to humiliate her.

"You might have been lost," Maxwell said, his voice smooth and steady. "But you still did the work. You showed up and executed. Your promotion wasn't a fluke—it was a result of your own grit."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "But if Mrs. King allows me to take a little credit for the assist, it would be my absolute honor."

Arianna’s heart skipped a beat, then another. How was he always so good at this?

Maxwell watched her as she bowed her head to hide her face, focusing intensely on her bowl. Her ivory earlobes were flushed a deep, vibrant crimson. He curled his lips into a smirk, his eyes darkening with intent.

After a moment, he steered the conversation away, sensing her panic. "Is the food good?"

She gave a small nod, her head still buried. "It’s delicious."

"Better than the last place?"

"Yes, this is better."

Maxwell’s smile remained, his voice dropping to a low, magnetic rumble. "Then we’ll order from them again next time?"

"Okay."

"Mrs. King," Maxwell teased, his gaze overflowing with affection. "You’re going to end up inhaling your dinner."

She finally looked up, her cheeks still flushed. "I am not."

"I’d say you’re getting there."

Arianna: "..."

—

After dinner, they cleared the table together. Arianna pulled out her laptop to tackle some work, while Maxwell sat nearby, scrolling through his phone. She assumed he was doing the same—grinding through company business.

That morning, Arianna had officially stepped into her role as Charlotte Marshall’s assistant, joining the team on a high-profile new project. The group was filled with women she’d only heard rumors about—confident, stunning, and razor-sharp. They were exactly the kind of women Arianna dreamed of becoming.

She had expected the veterans to resent a newcomer, but the reception was the opposite.

"Oh, look who it is! Our new associate lead, right? Welcome to the chaos!"

"Here, have some flowers! Charlotte picked them out herself."

"Miranda tipped us off yesterday that a beautiful girl was joining us, but wow, she wasn't kidding!"

Charlotte cast a sideways glance at the room. "Easy, Sam. Wipe the drool off your chin, it’s hitting the floor."

Sam glared back playfully. "Can you not embarrass me in front of the new lead?"

Charlotte sighed. "Stop being dramatic. Just call her 'team lead' like everyone else."

Someone chimed in with a grin, "You’re both leads now. How are we supposed to tell you apart?"

Charlotte shot her a dry look. "Use your eyes. What else are they for?"

She turned back to Arianna. "Quit wasting time. Where’s that pitch deck? It’s... acceptable, but it needs more bite. I need you to make a run to the Bayard Division today. It’s over on the Westside."

"Oh no—really?"

"Suck it up. I’ll buy you ice cream when you get back."

"I want Häagen-Dazs!"

"Fine."

"Make it two tubs!"

Charlotte scoffed. "Fine. Then forget it, I’ll send Luke instead—"

"No, no! One tub is fine! I’m going, I’m going!"