Chapter 1

Brooke

The glass doors of Walker & Associates sweep open before me, their pristine surface reflecting the morning sunlight. I pause in the marble-floored lobby, drawing in a deep breath of the coffee-and-ambition-scented air. My heels click against the polished floor as I stride toward the elevator bank.

"Ms. Kinsley!" Marcus from security straightens behind his desk, his weathered face lighting up with genuine warmth as he sends me a wide smile. "That presentation you helped me with? My daughter got an A+. Can't thank you enough. She hasn't stopped talking about it all week."

I flash him a smile, adjusting my leather portfolio against my hip. "Your daughter did all the work. I just pointed her in the right direction. She's got a natural talent for public speaking - you should be proud."

The elevator opens with a soft ding, and I step in, using the mirrored walls to check my dark blue suit for any imperfections. I smooth down the lapels of my perfectly tailored jacket – a power move that I'll need for today's face-off with Colin Frye. That smug trust fund baby thinks he can steamroll my proposal just because daddy's name is on half the buildings downtown. Well, he's about to learn that old money doesn't impress me, and neither do his designer suits or that irritatingly perfect jawline.

"Hold the door!" Jessica Daniels dashes in, huffing and puffing. Then, her eyes land on me and she brightens up in seconds. "Oh, Brooke! Perfect timing. Got a minute after the morning meeting? That strategy you suggested for the Henderson account? Pure genius. The whole team wants your input on implementing it."

"Schedule something with my assistant. We'll make it work."

The elevator deposits us on the executive floor, where glass-walled offices stretch in every direction. I mentally run through my presentation points while nodding to Ramona, who's already spreading documents across the conference room table.

"There's my favorite lady!" Tom waves from his office. "That tip about the Martinez merger saved our asses. Drinks are on me this Friday."

"Oh, Tommy, you're too kind," I reply, sending him a wink as I make my way past.

Just as I do, I'm nearly bumped into my Rachel, who struggles to carry her armful of folders while adjusting her lopsided glasses.

"Sheesh, Rachel, let me help you with that," I say, fixing her glasses as she sends me a grateful grin. "Busy morning, huh?"

"Like no other. Good luck on that meeting," she says, nodding her head in the direction of the conference room. "I heard Frye is on a power trip right now. He's eyeing the same promotion you are."

"Of course he is," I whisper, adjusting my gold bracelet. It stands out nicely against my complexion. "Men like him steamroll everyone and everything to get what they want."

Rachel sucks in a breath, her brown eyes widening slightly at the remark. "You're willing to say that out loud? Most of us keep it in."

"I'm not afraid of him." I pat her on the shoulder before letting her on her way.

I navigate through the rest of the morning greetings from my colleagues as I make my way to my office, each one a reminder of the relationships I've built through hard work rather than inherited privilege. My mind circles back to the upcoming meeting. Sure, Colin Frye might have his family name, but I've earned every ounce of respect in this building.

And that's something he can't take away from me.

I push open my office door, running my fingers along the mahogany frame – earned after closing the Reynolds deal last quarter. The morning light streams through my large glass windows, casting a warm glow on my collection of industry awards. The latest addition, "Rising Star in Corporate Finance," sits front and center on my credenza, right next to the photo of my grandmother at her college graduation. First in her family generation to get a degree, just like me.

My designer chair welcomes me as I sink into the supple leather. The view of downtown stretches before me, a concrete jungle I've conquered one presentation at a time. Unlike some people, I didn't have daddy's country club connections to pave my way.

My jaw clenches at the memory of last week's budget meeting. Colin Frye, lounging in his chair like he owned the place, shooting down my proposal with that infuriating smirk. "Perhaps we should consider a more traditional approach, Brooke." Traditional meaning whatever his father's old golf buddies recommended, which benefits their shareholder pockets in the end.

The very same Colin Frye who showed up three years ago with zero industry experience but a Harvard MBA bought with family money. The same man who now swaggers through these halls like he built them himself, when the only thing he built was his trust fund.

My eyes drift to the diploma on my wall – state university, earned through scholarships and part-time jobs. Next to it hangs the newspaper clipping from when I first made it big. "Youngest Executive to Secure Eight-Figure Deal," the headline reads. Each achievement in this office represents countless late nights, missed weekends, and sacrificed holidays with my friends and family. All in the pursuit of career ambition.

I straighten my spine, smoothing down my jacket. Let Colin play at being an executive. While he's busy dropping his father's name at cocktail parties, I'll be doing what I've always done—proving my worth through results, not relationships.

A knock comes at my office door, just as I'm reorganizing the documents on my desk to go over. Hannah peeks her brunette head in, smiling at me as she holds out a coffee cup.

"Figured you needed a cup or five before the meeting," she says, making her way inside my office while smoothing down her light blue dress with her free hand. She closes the door behind her with her hip. "How are you feeling? Like a million dollars?"

"I'm feeling as good as I always do."

"No, no, I see you're glowing," she replies, setting the coffee cup at the edge of my desk. I appreciate her carefulness not to mess with the documents. "You've got a straight path to getting promoted. I mean, come on! On the inside, I know you're jumping around."

"It's not set in stone," I reply, shaking my head. "Besides, I've got to deal with smug bastards like Colin Frye before I reach that point."

"Right, right." She sits down across from me, folding her manicured hands across her lap. "The guy who got everything handed to him."

I huff out a laugh. It's an open secret in Walker & Associates that Colin Frye, and guys like him, haven't had to put in a day of hard work to get where they're at. And that makes them absolutely deplorable.

I mean, who the fuck does he think he is, walking in here and telling everyone what to do? We all had to work ourselves to the goddamn bone to get where we're at. Meanwhile, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, along with his squadron of nannies who did everything for him since the moment he could walk.

But hey, that's just me being cynical.

Hannah leans forward, her eyes sparkling with that sisterly concern I've come to expect from her. "Don't let Colin get in your head. That presentation you've prepared? It's bulletproof. I've seen you practicing it all week."

"Thanks." I take a sip of the coffee she brought - perfect temperature, just how I like it. "Though I have to admit, having him as competition keeps me sharp. Every time he tries to one-up me, I end up pushing myself harder."

"Look at you, finding the silver lining." Hannah grins, crossing her legs. "Though I never thought I'd hear you say anything remotely positive about Colin Frye."

"Oh, trust me, he's still insufferable." I tap my pen against the stack of reports. "But you know what they say - keep your friends close and your enemies closer. And having him as my rival means I triple-check every decimal point, rehearse every presentation until it's flawless."

"And that's exactly why you're going to crush it today." Hannah stands up, smoothing her dress. "While he relies on his family name, you've got actual substance to back up your proposals."

"You're right." I feel my shoulders relax slightly. "As annoying as it is to compete with him, it's made me even better at what I do. Can't deny that."

"That's my girl." Hannah heads for the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. "Show him what real talent looks like."

I nod, offering a small wave as she makes her way out the door. Glancing at the wall clock on the other side of my office, I realize that I have around half an hour before the meeting begins. My stomach flips slightly, reminding me that despite all the experience I have, my hands still get a bit clammy at the prospect of addressing a room full of people who wouldn't hesitate to replace me if I messed up in some way.

"Get out of your fucking head," I whisper, rubbing at my temples. Outside my high-rise office window, the city of New York hustles and bustles below me. I've always wanted this. I've dreamed of a life like this.

But I can't lie. There's a part of me that shrivels and dies every time I see someone like Colin Frye come in to threaten everything I've built. I hate him. I hate everything he stands for. I hate each thread of the fabric that makes up his fancy suits. I hate his fancy cars, his billionaire family name, his blue eyes, his blonde hair.

I want nothing more than to be the reason for his downfall. If I nab this upcoming promotion to become Chief Innovation Officer, I'll get to see the confidence and arrogance leave his eyes. And I'll relish every second of it.