Chapter 7 Unwanted Advice From The Competition
Courtney's POV
I had chosen the restaurant deliberately. It wasn’t the flashiest place in the city, but it was elegant in a quiet, confident way—white linen tablecloths, amber pendant lights, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the river cutting through downtown. The kind of place where deals were celebrated, anniversaries toasted, and secrets whispered over candlelight. Tonight wasn’t about business. Tonight was about Damian.
After the week we’d had—Daniel Hargrove’s arrest, federal agents swarming McKay Enterprises, headlines exploding across financial blogs— I wanted one evening that belonged to us. No press briefings. No crisis management. No shadow of Ardent Global looming in the background. I smoothed my black dress over my knees and checked my reflection in the water glass. Dressed to make a man weak in the knees.
That was the version of myself I needed to be now—not just Damian’s girlfriend, but his partner in the storm. My phone buzzed. A text from Damian.
Running five minutes late. Don’t order without me. And don’t flirt with the waiter.
I smiled. As if I had eyes for anyone else. The chair across from me scraped lightly against the floor. I looked up automatically, a smile already forming——and froze.
The woman settling into the seat opposite me looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine. Flame-red hair cascaded in polished waves over one shoulder. Her lipstick was a precise, dangerous shade of crimson. A fitted emerald blazer hugged a figure that screamed tailored power, not desperation.
Her eyes were cool. Calculating.
“Hi,” the woman said pleasantly. “You must be Courtney.”
My smile didn’t falter, but something sharp unfurled in my chest.
“And you are?” I asked evenly.
The redhead crossed her legs, perfectly poised.
“Felicia Ardent.”
The name landed like a chess piece slamming onto a board. Ardent Global. I had seen her in boardroom profiles and finance interviews—cool, composed, lethal in heels. CEO. Strategist. Corporate predator. And now she was sitting at my dinner table. Uninvited.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Felicia continued lightly. “Damian’s assistant mentioned he had a reservation here tonight. I thought I’d stop by and introduce myself properly.”
I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap.
“You mean ambush me.”
Felicia’s lips curved.
“Semantics.”
I let a soft laugh escape my lips.
“You’re bold,” I said.
“I’m efficient,” Felicia corrected. “There’s a difference.”
For a brief moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged, like static before lightning.
Felicia studied me openly.
“You’re younger than I expected.”
I tilted my head. “And you’re more obvious than I expected.”
A flicker of amusement touched Felicia’s gaze.
“I like you,” she said. “Which is why I’m here to give you solid advice.”
I felt my brows lift slightly.
“Oh?”
Felicia leaned forward, lowering her voice just enough to keep the conversation intimate.
“Break up with Damian McKay. Distance yourself from McKay Enterprises before you sink with them.”
There it was. No pretense. No subtlety. Just a clean slice across the table.
I didn’t flinch.
Instead, I laughed. Not a nervous laugh. Not a polite laugh. A genuine, incredulous one. Felicia’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.
“Something funny?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice warm but razor-edged. “You thinking I scare easily.”
Felicia leaned back again, folding her arms.
“This isn’t about fear. It’s about foresight. You’re a PR strategist, correct? You know how this works. McKay Enterprises is wobbling. Hargrove’s arrest? That’s only the beginning. Regulatory audits. Shareholder panic. Market bleed.”
I watched her silently.
“And when that ship goes down, anyone tied to it goes down too.”
I held her gaze.
“You’re very confident in your predictions.”
“I don’t predict,” Felicia said smoothly. “I engineer.”
A threat disguised as mentorship. I tapped my manicured nail lightly against the table.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You think you’re doing me a favor.”
“I am.”
“By trying to isolate Damian.”
Felicia didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she smiled.
“Damian is ambitious. Intelligent. But he’s inexperienced in certain… arenas. He’s stepping into territory that doesn’t belong to him.”
“Sheep in wolf territory?” I asked sweetly.
A flicker of surprise crossed Felicia’s face. So she’d heard about Daniel’s little meltdown.
“Yes,” Felicia said. “Exactly that.”
I leaned forward now, mirroring Felicia’s earlier posture.
“You made one mistake,” I said calmly.
“And what’s that?”
“You assumed I’m the weak link.”
The silence between us sharpened. Felicia studied me more carefully this time—not as a bystander, not as a naive girlfriend. But as an opponent. I continued.
“You walked in here expecting tears. Doubt. Maybe gratitude for your ‘warning.’”
Felicia’s lips thinned slightly.
“I walked in here to save you time.”
“And I’m telling you,” I said evenly, “you’re wasting yours.”
Felicia’s eyes flicked briefly to the entrance.
“Damian doesn’t need someone emotional at his side right now. He needs someone strategic.”
My voice dropped a dangerous degree.
“Who says I’m not both?”
The restaurant door opened. I didn’t look. I didn’t have to. I could feel him. Felicia’s gaze shifted past her shoulder, and for the first time since sitting down, something unreadable moved through her expression.
Damian McKay had arrived.
I rose slowly to my feet, smoothing my dress.
“Before he gets here,” I said softly, “let’s clear something up.”
Felicia stood too, matching my height in heels.
I held her gaze steady.
“What’s your play here?” I asked plainly. “Are you interested in McKay Enterprises… or Damian himself?”
Felicia didn’t blink.
“I’m interested in winning,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Felicia’s lips curved again, but this time the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re sharp,” she admitted. “I respect that.”
“And?”
“And if I wanted Damian personally,” Felicia said coolly, “I would have made my move long before you.”
The confidence in her tone wasn’t flirtatious. It was territorial.
I felt something steady inside me. Not jealousy. Clarity.
“You don’t want him,” I said quietly. “You want what he represents.”
Felicia’s silence was confirmation enough.
“He’s young,” I continued. “New blood. A symbol of change. If you can destabilize him, you destabilize the company. And if he cracks—”
“—the market cracks with him,” Felicia finished smoothly.
Strategy.
Damian wasn’t a man to her. He was leverage. My jaw tightened just slightly.
“You underestimate him,” I said.
“I doubt that.”
“You underestimate me more.”
Felicia tilted her head.
“Then prove me wrong.”
Footsteps approached behind me.
“Court?”
Damian’s voice. Warm. Concerned. Protective.
I didn’t turn right away. Instead, I held Felicia’s gaze for one final beat.
“You told me to distance myself,” I said softly. “Here’s my advice to you.”
Felicia’s eyes sharpened.
“Get comfortable with losing.”
Then I turned. Damian’s expression shifted instantly when he saw who stood in front of me.
“Felicia,” he said coolly.
“Damian,” Felicia replied, smooth as silk. “I was just giving your girlfriend some career advice.”
“I don’t recall her needing any,” Damian said.
I slipped my hand into his. He squeezed it instinctively. Solid. Reassuring. Felicia observed the gesture.
“Consider it a courtesy,” she said. “These corporate storms can be brutal. Collateral damage is… unfortunate.”
Damian’s jaw flexed.
“We’ll weather it.”
Felicia’s gaze flicked between us.
“I suppose we’ll see.”
She reached for her clutch, pausing briefly before stepping away.
“Oh,” she added lightly, glancing at me. “One more thing.”
I met her eyes calmly.
“This city eats loyalty alive.”
My lips curved.
“Good thing I’m not on the menu.”
For the first time, Felicia’s composure cracked—just barely. A flicker of something—annoyance? Intrigue? Then it was gone.
“Enjoy your dinner,” Felicia said. And she walked away.
Damian exhaled slowly once she was out of earshot.
“What did she say to you?”
I slid back into my seat, serene.
“She told me to break up with you.”
Damian blinked.
“She what?”
“She thinks McKay Enterprises is doomed,” I said lightly. “That I should jump ship before it sinks.”
Damian’s expression darkened.
“And?”
I reached across the table, brushing my thumb over his knuckles.
"And I think I lost my appetite. How about we grab some ice cream and head back to your apartment?" I lifted an eyebrow suggestively.
Something in his face softened. Pride. Love.
“She’s not going to stop,” Damian said quietly.
“I know.”
“She’ll escalate.”
My eyes sparkled.
“Good.”
He frowned slightly.
“Good?”
I leaned forward, lowering her voice.
“She just showed her hand.”
Damian studied me carefully.
“You’re not rattled.”
I shook my head.
“Nope. Have you ever seen me back down from a cage fight?”
Damian chuckled. "You've never been in a cage fight, babe."
I thought of Anna standing by Marcus through scandal, injury, and danger. I thought of how love wasn’t fragile—it was fortified in fire.
“I chose this,” I said firmly. “I chose you. I chose the company. And I choose the fight.”
Damian squeezed my hand again, this time with something deeper behind it.
“That’s my girl.”
My gaze drifted briefly toward the restaurant entrance where Felicia had disappeared.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But I wasn’t intimidated. I wasn’t backing down. If Felicia Ardent wanted a war over McKay Enterprises, she’d get one. And I intended to win.