Winifred rose slowly under the weight of every gaze in the room. She wore an apricot-colored blazer dress, her long hair swept up in a chignon. Gone was the wide-eyed innocent act she usually put on.
Asher gave her hand a gentle pat, his eyes soft as water, murmuring encouragement.
"Don't be nervous. I'm right here. Just do it the way you practiced."
That protective look on his face was identical to the one he'd worn years ago, after my parents died and my uncles tried to force me to hand over the family estate. He'd stood beside me then, shielding me from all of it.
Back then, he'd said the same thing: "Don't be nervous. I'm right here."
The only difference now was who he'd chosen to protect.
Winifred let out a long breath and walked to the podium.
"For the Southgate development, my design philosophy centers on building a city that gives people a sense of belonging. In our major metropolitan areas, we see endless traffic and concrete. But everyone carries a private vision of somewhere quieter, somewhere that feels like home..."
She grew more assured with every sentence. The slides advanced one after another, revealing renderings filled with warmth and human-centered design.
I sat in the audience, and all I felt was the absurdity of it.
Asher had handed her the work I'd poured countless sleepless nights into, and now she stood in front of everyone, speaking about "belonging" as if the word had ever meant anything to her.
None of them knew why I'd chosen that word. The Southgate parcel was a wedding gift from my grandmother to my mother. I'd grown up there.
That land carried a meaning for me that no one in this room could replicate.
Winifred's confidence swelled with every slide. Her smile stretched wider, as though the contract was already signed.
"Sanchez Group brings substantial capital, a world-class team, and the full backing of Mr. Sanchez himself. We will exceed every expectation and deliver the Southgate project flawlessly!"
She finished with a deep bow.
Applause erupted across the venue. Several investors nodded approvingly.
The host stepped forward and took the microphone, beaming.
"Thank you, Ms. Taylor, for that outstanding presentation! Now, let's hear from Mr. Sanchez."
Asher stood. Polished. Commanding. Every inch the CEO.
His gaze settled on Winifred onstage, brimming with open favoritism and admiration.