Julia Ann's hands trembled as she adjusted her blazer for the fifth time in the marble-clad elevator. Twenty-three floors to go. Twenty-three floors to prepare for what could be the most important interview of her life.
God, please don't let me mess this up.
Webb & Associates occupied the top five floors of Manhattan's newest skyscraper, their reputation as ruthless as the steel and glass that housed them. Corporate law at its most cutthroat, they said. Only the best survived there. Only the sharks.
Julia had spent three years clawing her way through law school, graduating summa cum laude while working nights at a diner to pay rent. She'd written her thesis on corporate acquisitions, studied every major case Webb & Associates had won in the past decade. She knew their strategies, their tactics, their wins and losses like scripture.
She was ready. She had to be.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the forty-seventh floor. The doors opened to reveal a reception area that screamed money and power, black marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, and furniture that probably cost more than her annual rent.
"Julia Ann Martins for David Webb," she told the receptionist, a woman so polished she looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine.
"Mr. Webb will see you in his office. Down the hall, corner suite." The woman's smile was professional but cold. "He's ready for you now."
Julia nodded and made her way down the corridor, her heels clicking against the marble. The walls were lined with awards, photographs of Webb with politicians and business leaders, articles from major publications. This was a shrine to success, and she wanted desperately to be part of it.
You belong here, she told herself. You've worked for this.
The corner office was massive—floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls, a desk the size of a small car, and leather furniture that looked like it had never been sat in. Behind the desk sat David Webb, and Julia's breath caught in her throat.
He was devastating. Tall even while seated, with dark hair perfectly styled and shoulders that filled out his expensive suit like he was born to wear it.
He didn't look up when she entered. Didn't acknowledge her presence at all. Just continued reading whatever document was in front of him, his jaw set in a hard line that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else.
He's intimidating, Julia thought, her confidence wavering. But you can do this. You have to.
She stood there for what felt like an eternity, clutching her portfolio, waiting for him to speak. The silence stretched on, becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second. Finally, she cleared her throat softly.
"Mr. Webb? I'm Julia Ann Martins. I'm here for the interview—"
"I can see that." His voice was deep, commanding, and utterly dismissive. He still hadn't looked at her. "Sit."
The single word hit her like a slap. Not "please have a seat" or "make yourself comfortable." Just "sit," like she was a dog being commanded.
Julia lowered herself into the chair across from his desk, her hands gripping her portfolio so tightly. Stay calm. Stay professional.
David Webb finally looked up, and when their eyes met, Julia felt like she'd been struck by lightning. His eyes made her stomach drop, ice blue and completely cold. His gaze moved over her face, taking in every detail with the clinical precision of someone cataloging flaws. His expression didn't change, but somehow she felt completely exposed.
He's already decided, she realized with growing horror. He's already made up his mind about me.
"Columbia Law," he said, his tone suggesting that her prestigious education was somehow disappointing. "Top of your class."
It wasn't a question, and Julia sensed that responding would only make things worse. She nodded instead, trying to project confidence she didn't feel.
David leaned back in his chair, and the movement somehow made him seem even more imposing. "Tell me, Miss Martins, what makes you think you're qualified to work at this firm?"
The question was reasonable, but the way he asked it, like he already knew the answer would be inadequate, made Julia's stomach clench. She launched into the speech she'd practiced a hundred times.
"I graduated summa cum laude from Columbia, I've studied corporate law extensively, and I've written several papers on—"
"Stop." The word cut through her prepared speech like a blade. David's eyes had gone even colder, if that was possible. "Academic achievements are irrelevant here. This isn't a classroom, Miss Martins. This is the real world."
The real world. The dismissal in his voice made her cheeks burn with humiliation.
"I understand that, Mr. Webb, but I believe my academic record demonstrates my ability to—"
"Your ability to what?" He leaned forward slightly, and Julia found herself pressing back into her chair. "To memorize cases? To regurgitate textbook strategies? To look good while doing it?"
That last comment stung. Look good while doing it. He was reducing her to nothing more than a pretty face, dismissing everything she'd worked for. It made her blood heat with quiet anger.
"I'm not just—" she started, but he was already standing.
"This interview is over." David moved to his desk phone, pressing a button. "Sarah, come in here. Now."
Julia's heart hammered against her ribs. No, this can't be happening. Not like this.
The door opened immediately, and the polished receptionist entered with a tablet in hand. Sarah, apparently.
"Yes, Mr. Webb?"
David didn't even glance at Julia as he spoke. "In the future, when I ask for candidates with real-world experience, I expect candidates with real-world experience. Not fresh-faced law school graduates who think a degree makes them qualified for this level of work."
He's talking about me like I'm not even here, Julia thought, her face burning with embarrassment. Like I'm nothing.
Sarah's eyes flicked to Julia with what might have been sympathy. "I apologize, Mr. Webb. I thought her academic credentials—"
"Academic credentials are worthless here," David interrupted, his voice sharp with irritation. "I need lawyers who can handle hostile takeovers, not students who can write papers about them. I need people who won't fold the first time opposing counsel raises their voice."
Julia's hands were shaking now, not with nerves, but with rage. Every word was a deliberate insult, a dismissal of everything she'd worked for.
He doesn't even know me, she thought furiously. He's judging me based on how I look, not what I can do.
"It won't happen again," Sarah said quietly.
"See that it doesn't." David finally looked at Julia, and his expression was completely cold. "Miss Martins, I'm sure you're very bright, but brightness isn't enough here. This business requires a certain... hardness. A willingness to do whatever it takes to win. Frankly, you don't look like you have that in you."
The words hit her. All the late nights studying, all the sacrifices, all the dreams she'd built around this moment, dismissed because she didn't "look" hard enough.
Julia stood on unsteady legs, her portfolio clutched against her chest like armor. "I see."
"I doubt you do," David said, already turning back to his paperwork. "But you will, eventually. The real world has a way of teaching lessons that law school never can."
Bastard, Julia thought, the word echoing in her mind with surprising venom. Arrogant, condescending bastard.
She turned toward the door, her face burning with humiliation. Everyone in the office would know. They'd all see her walking out after five minutes, another candidate who couldn't cut it.
But as her hand reached for the door handle, something inside her snapped. All the years of being underestimated, all the professors who'd doubted her, all the people who'd looked at her and seen nothing but a decorative object, it all crystallized into a single moment of pure, blazing anger.
She turned back around.
"Mr. Webb?"
He looked up, clearly annoyed at the interruption. "Yes?"
"Why?" The word came out stronger than she'd expected. "Why did you agree to this interview if you'd already decided I wasn't qualified?"
David's eyebrows rose slightly, as if he was surprised she'd had the audacity to question him. "Excuse me?"
"You made up your mind about me the second I walked in," Julia said, her voice gaining strength. "You didn't listen to a word I said. You didn't look at my portfolio. You didn't even give me a chance to show you what I can do. So why waste both our time?"
The silence in the room was deafening. Sarah looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. David's expression had gone dangerously cold.
"Because," he said, his voice dropping to a tone that sent chills down Julia's spine, "I wanted to see if you had any fight in you. Any hint that you might be more than just another privileged little girl playing dress-up as a lawyer."
His words hit her like a slap, but she only nodded and turned to leave.
We'll see about that, Julia thought, her mind already racing with possibilities. We'll see who's playing dress-up.
She turned and walked out without another word, her head held high despite the humiliation burning in her chest. She could feel their eyes on her back as she made her way down the corridor, past the awards and photographs, past the shrine to success that had rejected her so completely.
You think I'm soft, David Webb? she thought, her reflection staring back at her from the polished elevator doors. You think I don't have what it takes? You're about to find out just how wrong you are.
She gripped her documents angrily. And when I'm done, you'll be begging me to work for you.
The elevator reached the ground floor, and Julia stepped out into the bustling Manhattan street. She had work to do. Research to conduct and a plan to formulate.
David Webb had made a mistake today. He'd humiliated her, dismissed her, treated her like she was nothing.
Now she was going to make him pay for it.