Chapter 3

That night when I got home, Cole was in the study on a video call.

After my shower, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.

When he came in after the meeting, he could tell at a glance that something was wrong.

"What happened?"

I was quiet for a few seconds. Then I asked him, out of nowhere, "Cole, when you had me keep our marriage a secret and join the company, did part of you also want to see whether I was actually any good?"

He paused, caught off guard.

"I never meant to test you."

"Then why, knowing full well that Vanessa was stealing my work and spreading gossip about me, did you do nothing?"

Cole walked over and crouched down in front of me.

"Sienna, it's not that I won't act."

"It's that you told me you wanted to make it on your own."

"Until you say yes, I can't make that decision for you."

I looked at him, my eyes stinging a little.

"And what if I never say yes?"

He took my hand.

"Then I'll keep waiting."

"But the moment you say enough, leave the rest to me."

My chest ached, but I still wouldn't back down.

"Just a little longer."

"I want to know how far she'll actually go."

Cole looked at me for a long time. Finally, he gave a soft hum.

"Okay."

"But Sienna, don't let yourself get hurt over this."

Vanessa was crazier than I'd thought.

Two days before the anniversary launch event, the final emcee script for the hotel-line project was locked in.

I'd revised it four times before it was finalized. Even the pacing of every line of voiceover in the brand film was something I'd overseen myself.

But on the day of the official rehearsal, my name was gone.

On the project credits list, Planning Lead read Vanessa Holt.

Core Execution read Lily Foster and Derek Collins.

Under my name, there were only two words: Research Support.

When Lily saw the list, her face went pale.

"This is just plain bullying."

I said nothing. I just took a photo of the page.

Once the rehearsal started, Vanessa stood in the front row giving orders, full of authority.

One minute the lighting was too warm, the next the emcee was speaking too slowly, and then the gift bags the hotel had sent over looked tacky.

She had everyone running in circles.

All I'd wanted was to quietly finish up the last of my work.

But near the end, the hotel's representative suddenly asked, "Why isn't the real employee interview segment in our video?"

That segment was the one I'd fought to keep.

It was about a hotel housekeeper who'd worked the night shift for ten years. She looked after her granddaughter during the day and worked at the hotel at night.

She said the guests might not remember her, but she remembered the lights in every room.

At the time, even the director we'd partnered with said that line was good.

But Vanessa thought it was "too down-to-earth" and cut it anyway.

Now that she was being asked about it, her smile was perfectly natural.

"That segment was footage provided by some of our junior staff. It wasn't polished enough and didn't fit the tone of the anniversary, so I took it out for now."

Junior staff.

Not polished enough.

I suddenly felt like laughing.

The hotel's representative was a woman in her forties named Diana Hayes, brisk and efficient.

She frowned. "But when Mr. Grayson saw the rough cut last time, he specifically said not to cut all of this kind of content."

Vanessa's expression shifted slightly, but she covered it fast.

"I understand what Mr. Grayson meant, which is why I kept the guest storyline."

Ms. Hayes didn't say anything more. She just gave me a second look.

After the rehearsal, Vanessa called me to the end of the hallway.

"Have you been running your mouth to the hotel people?"

"No."

"Then why does she keep looking at you?"

"Maybe she has good eyesight."

Vanessa stared at me, her face darkening by degrees.

"Sienna, I'm starting to see that you really don't know how to appreciate what you're given."

"I give you work, I give you opportunities, and all you want is to climb over me to get ahead."

I looked at her and asked slowly, "Director Holt, when you say that, doesn't your conscience bother you?"

She let out a cold laugh.

"Why would it? You're a junior planner who just joined the company. What right do you have to lecture me?"

Then, as if something had just occurred to her, she took a step closer and lowered her voice.

"Or do you actually think you've hooked someone important?"

My heart skipped.

Vanessa went on. "You've been pretty pleased with yourself lately, haven't you? The CEO's assistant says a few words to you, and suddenly you think you're somebody?"

"Let me tell you something. Men like that have seen more women than you can count. Someone like you is just something to play with."

My fingertips curled tight.

Not because she'd insulted me.

Because of the way she talked about Cole, so sure of herself, as if it were her right. It was so disgusting it turned my stomach.

I stared at her and said, one word at a time, "Director Holt, please show some respect."

She looked at me like I'd told a joke.

"Respect?"

"Learn to respect your own place first. Then come talk to me about respect."

I didn't argue with her anymore.

That day, I realized something very clearly.

This wasn't going to stay about work.

She didn't just want to keep me down.

She saw me as a rival she'd made up in her own head.

A rival she thought she could crush without a second thought.

That evening, the department sent out a last-minute notice: first thing the next morning, we were to go to the Grayson Group headquarters tower for a joint coffee reception before the executives' morning meeting.

Put simply, a few departments would arrive early so the higher-ups could mingle.

Vanessa tagged me specifically in the team Slack channel.

"Sienna, tomorrow morning you're in charge of the pre-meeting materials and the coffee station. Get there early. Don't mess it up."

I stared at the message and didn't reply.

Lily sent me a sighing emoji.

"She's doing this on purpose."

I knew.

But I went anyway.

I wanted to see what else she planned to put on a show for.