Chapter 29
The man on the phone was Steven Hernandez, the second‑largest shareholder of Northstar Architecture.
"I just got a call from Mr. Jordan. He said you threw his daughter out of the building with security because of some woman? And you even threatened to make the Jordan Family pull their investment? Do you have any idea how crucial West Coast funding is right now?"
Joseph didn't flinch. "Mr. Hernandez, Northstar Architecture survives on design, not daycare. Joanna insulted the chief director in front of the entire team and broke every rule we have. Firing her was justified. And as for funding, I've already said it—whatever gap we have, I'll cover it personally."
"You'll cover it? Have you completely lost your mind over that, Isabella?"
On the other end, another veteran board member snapped, his voice strained with fury. "Joseph, the rest of us have been wanting to talk to you for a while! Ever since Isabella walked into Northstar Architecture, how much trouble has followed her?"
"Plagiarism accusations one day, scandals the next. Our stock price has been dragged through the mud because of her! Sure, she cleared her name online and sued people, but smoke doesn't rise without fire!"
Steven rushed to echo him. "To calm Mr. Jordan down, and to keep Northstar Architecture from getting dragged into more ridiculous gossip, the board has unanimously decided to strip Isabella of her Chief Design Director title immediately."
"She'll be demoted to a regular designer. Every major project under her will be reassigned. That's how we give The Jordan Family—and the public—an explanation."
A forced demotion.
Joseph's expression darkened instantly. His hands slammed onto the desk as he drew a sharp breath, ready to tear into them—
But a pale, slender hand settled gently over his.
Joseph froze and turned.
At some point, Isabella had straightened up beside him. She gave him a calm, deliberate shake of her head, telling him not to interfere.
Then she leaned forward, her lips close enough to the speakerphone that her voice poured through the room like cold steel. "Demote me? Mr. Hernandez, if you really think you can pull that off, I can start the handover today."
A beat of stunned silence hit the other end.
Isabella didn't give them time to recover. Her tone stayed smooth, steady, and impossibly sharp. "Before you finalize anything, I strongly suggest you have Legal review the contracts for Northstar Architecture's current core projects."
"First, the West Coast Hospitality & Tourism Group complex we signed yesterday. Clause thirty‑one states explicitly: the sole designated lead designer is Isabella. If Northstar Architecture replaces the lead without authorization, the client can terminate unilaterally without paying a cent in penalties."
"Second, the Emerald City Arts Center renovation and the Tech Harbor Municipal Opera House proposal both use my registered copyrights as foundational design assets. The moment I'm demoted or removed from my position, Northstar Architecture loses the legal right to commercialize any of those designs."
She leaned in further, her voice tightening into something that hit like a hammer. "If you want to sacrifice me to pacify The Jordan Family, fine. But I hold the next three years' worth of nearly one billion dollars in projected revenue. If I walk out, those contracts walk with me."
"If you've calculated the cost of breaching all of them and believe Northstar Architecture can take the hit, then I'll remove my title right now. No objections. No complaints."
Silence crashed over the line.
It lasted nearly thirty seconds before Steven coughed—a dry, embarrassed sound. "Well… Mr. Miller, maybe you can talk to the Jordan Family again. As for personnel decisions, the board will revisit the matter. We'll leave it here for now."
A flat beep ended the call.
Joseph pressed the speaker button, shutting it off. Then he turned toward the woman beside him.
Sunlight streamed through the glass curtain wall, setting a soft gold glow along the curve of her cheek.
He had spent years dealing with sharks in suits and women who claimed to be powerhouses. None of them had ever looked like this—steady under pressure, fearless under scrutiny, and precise enough to crush her opponents with their own rules.
"Isabella," he said quietly, admiration unmistakable in his voice, "you were incredible. You cut their legs out from under them without lifting a finger. I bet they're all wiping sweat off their brows right now."
At his praise, the tension in Isabella's spine eased.
She turned toward Joseph's bright, intent gaze and let out a small, hollow laugh. "Incredible? I only survived because I had leverage today. Nothing more than a fox pretending to borrow a tiger's roar."
She walked to the guest couch and sank down, pressing her fingertips to her throbbing temples. The poised, icy mask she'd been wearing finally slipped, revealing a fatigue she could no longer hide.
Too much had happened in too few days. The smear campaigns online. The confrontation at the club. Forcing Charlotte to admit the truth. And now this standoff with the board.
She felt like a bow pulled so far back it was ready to snap.
Only now, with the chaos settled and the room quiet, did the exhaustion seep through her bones like cold water.
Joseph noticed immediately. He filled a cup with warm water and set it gently in front of her. "Don't push yourself so hard. The fire's out. Take a few days off. The team can handle the basic coordination."
"No." Isabella took a sip, shook her head. "I threw down the gauntlet in front of the board. I can't afford a single mistake right now. Ten minutes of rest is enough."
Joseph sighed, a tired smile tugging at his mouth, but he didn't argue. He returned to his desk to finish the documents he'd abandoned earlier, giving her space to breathe.
Isabella leaned back, letting the couch soften the rigidity in her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her mind steady itself.
Eventually, almost on instinct, she reached for her phone. After unlocking it, her finger drifted across the screen, moving as if it had its own will.
A social app opened.
And there, still sitting in the search bar from last night, was the name that pricked under her skin like a splinter.
Jasper.