New York's skyline gleamed like a crown of ambition, and at its center rose the Sinclair Corps building—a sleek monument of glass and mirrored pride. Inside, the air shifted as if holding its breath, conversations dying mid-sentence as the Ice Queen of Sinclair Corps, Emma Sinclair, passed.
Employees offered hushed greetings, only to be met with her signature silence. She stepped into the elevator, and just like that, anyone hoping to ride it knew better than to follow. No one dared to share an elevator with her—not ever.
Emma caught her reflection in the polished steel of the elevator doors. Her eyes were cold, unreadable, her lips drawn into a thin, decisive line. Her tailored black suit fit like armor—precise, powerful, and unyielding.
Ding…
The elevator slid open, and she stepped out, heels clicking sharply as she moved through the top floor. When she entered her office, the atmosphere shifted again—charged and alert.
A steaming cup of black coffee waited on her desk, and her assistant, Maya, stood ready with a folder in hand.
Emma shed her coat, draping it over a chair with practiced grace, and accepted the folder.
"No response yet?" she asked, her gaze lifting.
Maya shook her head. "Not yet, ma'am."
"Playing hard to get, huh?" Emma muttered, waving her off with a flick of the wrist.
Elsewhere in New York city , a tall figure stood before a wall of glass, watching the city below like an emperor surveying his kingdom.
Xander Royce.
CEO of Royce Empire. Enigmatic. Calculated. A man carved from discipline and ice.
With one hand in his pocket, he barely acknowledged Theo, his assistant, who stood behind him with a tablet in hand.
"Sinclair Corps sent an invitation to discuss the government contract," Theo reported. "They're requesting a meeting in by 2pm today"
Xander turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Fred Sinclair and his wife?"
"They've retired. Their daughter runs the company now—Emma Sinclair."
Xander raised a brow, the faintest flicker of interest crossing his features.
"Decline the invitation," he said. "They'll come here. Noon. No later. You're dismissed."
By noon, Emma, Maya, and the Sinclair delegation arrived at Royce Empire, led into the boardroom by Theo. As Emma stepped inside, she felt the shift in atmosphere—frigid, tense, as though the air itself recognized the weight of the meeting.
Then the door opened.
Xander Royce entered with quiet dominance, his presence filling the room before he even spoke.
"Miss Sinclair," he greeted, his tone cool but not impolite.
"Mr. Royce," she replied, equally composed.
"Please, take a seat," he said, gesturing toward the head of the table. He removed his tie with practiced ease and draped it across the table, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
At Theo's nod, Emma stood to begin. Her voice cut through the stillness, clear and precise as she outlined Sinclair's design proposal. But with every glance at Xander, her irritation simmered. He leaned back, half-lidded eyes giving away nothing, as though her words were background noise.
Her staff shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension. They knew Emma Sinclair admired excellence—but loathed indifference. Was this what she thought of Xander Royce? A man praised outside boardrooms but disappointingly passive inside them?
Theo caught Xander's eye and offered the faintest shake of his head, along with a bemused smile.
"Mr. Royce," Emma said sharply. "Do you have any input on the design?"
Xander straightened, casually flipping through the documents.
"Subpar," he said flatly.
Emma blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me," he replied, unbothered. "That'll be all. Come back when you've fixed the lousy designs. Quickly, if you value this contract—we have other options."
Without another word, he stood and strode out, his voice echoing behind him.
"Theo, show our guests out."
Back in Xander's office, the door clicked shut behind Theo.
"They're gone," Theo confirmed.
"Good. Hand me the Lewis Group and Han Designs files," Xander said, already moving toward his desk.
Theo placed them down. "Still think Sinclair is the better option," he muttered.
Xander didn't look up. "Their designs were weak. I deal with precision and perfection." He paused, a hint of intrigue flashing in his eyes. "Let's see how quickly she handles this."
Sinclair Corps
Heels slammed against marble. When the elephant gets angry, the grass suffers—and today, Sinclair employees felt the quake of Emma's fury.
The entire floor fell into a hushed, frantic silence.
Inside her office, Emma flipped through the designs, jaw tight.
"Call an emergency meeting with the design department," she ordered. Maya nodded and disappeared.
In the boardroom minutes later, Emma's glare locked onto Mr. Jones, head of design. He shrank beneath the weight of her gaze.
"Ma'am, I can explain—"
"I don't need excuses," she snapped. "I need results. What happened today was a disgrace, not just to me—but to the entire company. Fix it. I want a new design on my desk by morning."
She stormed out, Maya trailing behind her, silent as ever.
Back in her office, Emma threw off her coat and sat down again, eyes on the flawed designs.
Subpar?
Lousy?
No one had ever spoken to her like that. And it wasn't just what he said—it was how. Direct and Blunt. Like he'd expected her to fail.
It lit a fire under her she hadn't felt in years.
That evening, inside the cozy warmth of the penthouse she shared with her younger brother, Emma finally let her guard down .
Reid, nineteen and in his final year in college sprawled across the couch with a mouthful of snacks, watched her work from behind a mountain of pillows.
"You should ease up, Ice Queen," he teased.
"I thought you were studying," she replied, not looking up.
"I was. Then calculus attacked me," he groaned, tossing a chip into his mouth.
"Lazy bones."
He grinned. "What are you working on?"
"Royce Empire."
His eyes widened. "The big fish. Isn't that guy, like, impossible to deal with?"
Emma scoffed. "He rejected our designs."
Reid raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Still, you'll win. You always do."
Emma gave a half-smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Next morning, Sinclair corps.
Emma entered her office and spotted a new file neatly placed on her desk.
"Efficient," she muttered, flipping it open. Her eyes scanned the new layout, fingers already adjusting, refining, perfecting.
Once satisfied, she buzzed Maya.
"Send an invitation to Xander Royce. Today. Noon."
Maya nodded and hurried out.
Royce Empire.
Theo stood in the doorway.
"Invitation from Sinclair Corps. They want a meeting by noon."
Xander didn't look up. "You know what to do."
Theo gave a nod and left.
Alone now, Xander leaned back in his chair, a faint smile touching his lips.
"So soon?" he mused, powering on his laptop. "Let's see what the Ice Queen does under pressure."