Chapter 3
Series 1 Chapter 3
The conference room went silent.
Ronan stared at me as though the last three years had collapsed into a single second.
“Sabine—”
I lowered my eyes to the proposal in front of me.
“At work, you may call me Ms. Hart.”
His face tightened.
I turned to the others.
“Let’s continue.”
The project manager cleared his throat and began presenting the construction plan.
I listened until he reached the revised drawings.
“Stop.”
He froze.
I pointed to two marked sections.
“Who changed these?”
No one answered.
The project manager forced a smile.
“They’re minor adjustments. We can review them later.”
“I asked who made them.”
A calm voice came from the back of the room.
“I did.”
A man in a faded work jacket stood near the wall.
Dust covered his boots. A hard hat rested beneath one arm.
Ronan looked over sharply.
“Dorian, sit down.”
Dorian did not argue.
He simply pointed to the drawings.
“The original design would create a conflict during construction. Once the section was completed, repairing it would mean tearing everything out.”
His explanation was brief.
I checked the figures.
He was right.
“The revisions stay,” I said.
Several managers exchanged glances.
Ronan leaned back in his chair.
“You’re accepting the opinion of a site engineer over the entire management team?”
“I’m accepting the correct answer.”
His expression darkened.
I turned to Dorian.
“Send the complete revision to my office.”
“Yes, Ms. Hart.”
The meeting continued, but Ronan barely looked at the presentation again.
His attention remained on me.
When everyone finally left, he stayed behind.
“You’ve changed.”
I closed my laptop.
“Is there a project issue, Mr. Cole?”
His jaw tightened at the name.
“You disappear for three years, come back with a title, and suddenly think you can humiliate me in front of my own team?”
“You humiliated yourself.”
He gave a cold laugh.
“You always did mistake confidence for competence.”
I placed a document on the table between us.
He glanced down.
Formal Performance Review.
His smile faded.
“For the next thirty days,” I said, “headquarters will review every delay, safety complaint, and unauthorized change connected to Cole Construction.”
“You’re threatening to remove me?”
“No.”
I met his eyes.
“I’m telling you that your position is no longer guaranteed.”
For the first time that morning, Ronan had nothing to say.
I walked out.
That evening, another message from Sterling Group appeared on my phone.
Their partnership offer had returned.
So had the invitation to Sterling Group’s annual partners’ dinner.
My assistant’s note was brief.
The Sterling family expected every prospective division head to attend with a spouse or long-term partner.
I locked the screen.
Three years ago, marriage had cost me my career.
Now being unmarried was being used to limit it again.
A knock sounded against my car window.
Dorian stood outside, holding the file I had left in the conference room.
“You forgot this.”
I lowered the window.
“Thank you.”
He handed it to me, then noticed the message still glowing on my phone.
“Problem?”
“Apparently, being single makes people think my life is available for negotiation.”
Dorian considered that.
Then he said, “You need a husband.”
I looked up at him.
“And you need what?”
“A wife.”
His expression did not change.
The construction lights burned behind him.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
Dorian held my gaze.
“Marry me.”
My phone buzzed on the seat between us.
Another message from Sterling Group.
The partners’ dinner was in six days.
If I declined again, the division would be offered to someone else.
Five years of work.
Hundreds of jobs.
All of it hanging on a decision I had sworn I would never make again.
I looked back at the dusty engineer standing outside my car.
We had known each other for less than two days.
Yet he had just offered me the one thing I was most afraid to accept.
Marriage.