The ballroom shimmered once more with gold and crystal—Moretti Corporation's annual Board Recognition Dinner. A night reserved for investors, executives, and the elite of the business world. Where fortunes were brokered over champagne, and alliances were sealed with smiles that hid daggers.
Juliet entered like a queen reclaiming her throne. Her emerald silk gown trailed lightly behind her, each step deliberate, poised, commanding. Every eye turned toward her—those who had whispered in the past now had no choice but to stare.
At her side, Hendrick was the picture of perfection—tall, confident, every inch the CEO. But between them stretched an invisible wall, frosted over with distance. His hand hovered near hers, never touching. The illusion of unity persisted, yet Juliet could feel the cracks widening.
Across the room, Nora Blake blazed in scarlet—bold, unapologetic, eyes gleaming with triumph. She held court near the bar, surrounded by executives and their wives, laughing as if she owned the space.
When Hendrick excused himself to greet a group of investors, Juliet moved toward the refreshment table. That's when Nora's gaze found hers, and the smirk that followed was an unspoken provocation.
"Mrs. Moretti," Nora purred as Juliet approached, her tone saccharine, polished. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."
Juliet smiled politely. "Thank you, Miss Blake. I see you've made yourself quite at home."
"Oh, I try," Nora said lightly. "It's easier when the boss appreciates your work."
The words were bait, but Juliet didn't flinch. "Appreciation is good. Though some of us believe in earning it the traditional way—through results, not proximity."
Nearby guests fell silent, sensing the unspoken tension. Nora's smile flickered but she quickly recovered. "Results speak louder than words. That's why Mr. Moretti values me."
Juliet's lips curved ever so slightly. "I'm sure he does. But loyalty matters too. I do wonder how long it'll take him to remember that."
The air crackled—soft voices, polite smiles, but the daggers hidden beneath were unmistakable.
"Ladies," a familiar voice interrupted. Hendrick had returned, a practiced smile in place. "I see you've met."
"Oh yes," Nora said sweetly. "We were just discussing teamwork."
Juliet took a slow sip of champagne, eyes never leaving Nora's. "It's important to know your place in a team."
Hendrick's jaw tightened subtly. He sensed the undercurrent but ignored it, leading both women toward the main table as the dinner commenced.
---
The evening unfolded with speeches, applause, and polite laughter. Juliet played her part flawlessly—smiling when expected, conversing with board members with effortless charm. But beneath her calm, her mind raced.
Every glance between Hendrick and Nora was another spark of insult. Every whispered word, another fracture in the façade.
When dessert arrived, Nora stood abruptly, making a toast—unexpected, uninvited.
"To Mr. Moretti," she began, her voice smooth and deliberate, "a man whose vision and leadership inspire us all. Not every day do we encounter someone who embodies both power and passion so perfectly."
A murmur ran through the room. Passion. Every word carefully chosen. Hendrick stiffened. Juliet's grip on her glass tightened.
Nora's gaze landed on Juliet, mock innocence in her eyes. "And to his wife, of course—the beautiful Mrs. Moretti—for sharing such an extraordinary man with the world."
Applause followed, polite but sparse. The tension beneath the sugar-coated words was palpable.
Juliet rose slowly, graceful yet deliberate. "How kind of you, Miss Blake," she said smoothly. "It's always inspiring to see young women admire success—even if they occasionally confuse ambition with attachment."
A quiet, tense laughter rippled through the table. Nora's smile faltered briefly. Hendrick's expression darkened.
Juliet lifted her glass. "To Moretti Corporation—may it always distinguish professionalism from performance."
The toast landed like a blade. Glasses clinked half-heartedly, eyes darting between the two women. Nora sat, cheeks burning.
Hendrick leaned in, voice low. "What the hell was that?"
"Defending what's mine," she replied, not turning her head.
"This isn't a battlefield, Juliet."
"Oh, but it is," she whispered. "You just forgot which side you're on."
Silence fell, louder than any music.
---
Later, when the dinner ended, Juliet slipped onto the terrace. The night air was cool against her skin, easing the fire that still burned inside. Below, the city lights flickered like witnesses to her storm.
Footsteps approached.
"I should congratulate you," Nora said softly. "You handled that toast beautifully. I can't tell if you were defending your husband or your pride."
Juliet turned slowly. "In my world, they're the same thing."
Nora stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You think you can scare me? I've faced worse than jealous wives."
Juliet's smile was calm. "Oh, I don't scare people, Nora. I outlast them."
For a moment, they simply stared at each other—two women of power, carved from different cloths, yet equally formidable.
Then Juliet added, soft but lethal: "Enjoy your spotlight while it lasts. Because when the lights go out, the world will remember who truly belongs here."
She walked away, leaving her perfume trailing like a promise—and a warning.
Nora watched her leave, her perfect smile faltering for the first time. Juliet Moretti was not a woman to be replaced easily.
And Hendrick realized, too, that a war had begun between the two women who now defined his world.
This time, he wasn't sure who would win.