The silence inside the conference room was heavy.
No one dared touch their phones. No one whispered. Not even the sound of the air conditioner seemed brave enough to break that suffocating tension.
At the head of the glass table, Camile Victoria remained motionless.
Elegant and untouchable.
Her cold gaze swept over the reports spread out before her while the company directors avoided looking directly at her.
Because everyone in that room knew one thing:
Camile Victoria had no tolerance for incompetence.
And that morning, someone had made a huge mistake.
— Explain it to me again — she said calmly, slowly closing the folder. — How did you lose a fifty-million-dollar contract to a smaller company?
Her voice wasn't loud.
It never needed to be.
The man seated to her left swallowed hard before answering:
— We believed their proposal was inferior…
— “We believed”? — she interrupted, raising her eyes for the first time. — You manage a multimillion-dollar division based on guesswork?
The chief financial officer immediately lowered his head.
Camile rested her elbows on the table.
— I don't pay you to believe. I pay you to be certain.
Across the table, Augusto Ferraz let out a mocking laugh.
And that was exactly when the atmosphere got worse.
Augusto was an influential businessman, one of Victoria Group's longest-standing investors, and also a man used to being treated like a king.
Especially by women.
— You come down too hard on your team, Camile — he commented, leaning back in his chair. — Sometimes you forget that money doesn't move through coldness alone.
She slowly turned her face toward him.
The employees practically held their breath.
Augusto continued:
— Leadership requires balance. You don't need to act like a man all the time.
His mistake was smiling afterward.
Because Camile smiled too.
But there was no humor in that smile.
Only danger.
— Funny you should talk about leadership, Augusto — she said calmly. — Especially after nearly sinking two companies before investing in mine.
His face hardened.
Several employees disguised their discomfort by looking down.
She continued:
— And as for acting like a man… relax. If I had needed to act like one to get where I am, I'd probably still be asking permission to exist.
A brutal silence fell over the room.
Augusto's smile disappeared.
— You're crossing the line.
Camile tilted her head slightly.
— No. I'm simply reminding you that this company doesn't run on male ego.
The man clenched his jaw.
She opened one of the reports and pushed it toward him.
— Your division lost nine million last quarter.
Another sheet of paper was tossed onto the table.
— Your approval rating has dropped.
Another.
— And your projects are behind schedule.
She folded her hands.
— So maybe you should worry less about the way I lead… and more about the way you're failing.
The room fell silent.
Augusto looked ready to explode.
But Camile had already lost interest in him.
She rose calmly.
Her heels echoed across the marble floor as she organized the papers without hurrying.
Every part of her presence radiated authority.
It was impossible to ignore.
— I want new reports by tomorrow morning — she warned. — And if anyone here still believes this company survives on favoritism, you can resign right now.
No one moved.
Of course not.
Camile Victoria was far too feared for that.
She picked up her purse from the chair and left the room without looking back.
Only after the door closed did the employees start breathing again.
A woman from the marketing team slowly let out her breath.
— My God…
— She destroyed him — someone else murmured.
Augusto remained motionless, red with rage.
Because no one humiliated Augusto Ferraz.
Except Camile Victoria.
The mirrored elevator reflected her image perfectly.
Neatly styled blond hair.
Flawless makeup.
A white suit tracing every curve of her body with absurd elegance.
Camile studied her reflection without expression.
People usually looked at her and saw power.
Money.
Luxury.
Control.
But no one had any idea what it cost.
She had built Victoria Group practically on her own after her mother's death.
Without a husband.
Without a miraculous inheritance.
Without a man opening doors for her.
She'd had to listen to people say she was too young.
Too beautiful.
Too much of a woman.
And maybe that's why she'd learned so early that vulnerability was a dangerous luxury.
Her phone vibrated inside her purse.
She answered immediately.
— What?
On the other end of the line, Nicole's lively voice came through.
— Are you still working?
— It's three in the afternoon.
— Exactly. Normal people eat lunch, rest, and maybe even smile at this hour.
Camile pressed the parking button.
— I smile.
Nicole burst out laughing.
— That's a blatant lie.
The elevator doors opened.
Camile walked toward her car while listening to her friend.
— You're going out with us tonight.
— I'm not.
— Yes, you are.
— Nicole…
— No excuses. Vanessa already reserved a table at Élysée.
Camile closed her eyes for a second.
Élysée was one of the most luxurious bars in the city.
Packed with businessmen, celebrities, and men far too rich to hear “no” very often.
It definitely wasn't the kind of place she had the patience to deal with after a hellish day.
— I'm tired.
— You're always tired.
Camile got into the car.
— I have a meeting early tomorrow.
— And you're also thirty-two years old with no hobbies besides destroying executives in conference rooms.
She let out a quiet laugh.
Nicole noticed immediately.
— Oh, so you still know how to laugh.
— Don't exaggerate.
— Eight o'clock. No escape.
The call ended before Camile could refuse again.
She tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and rested her head against the headrest for a few seconds.
Maybe Nicole was right.
She worked too much.
Thought too much.
Controlled too much.
And it had been so long since she'd truly relaxed that she couldn't even remember what it felt like anymore.
Two hours later, Camile stood before the enormous walk-in closet in her apartment.
The black dress hugging her body looked simple at first glance.
But it was exactly the kind of simplicity that drew attention without trying.
Elegant.
Dangerous.
She slowly let her hair down in front of the mirror.
Her light eyes studied her reflection.
Beautiful.
She'd always heard that.
Since she was a teenager.
But beauty had never impressed her.
Because men desired beautiful women all the time.
What really intimidated them was intelligence.
Power.
Independence.
And she had those in abundance.
The intercom rang.
— Ms. Camile, your friends have arrived.
— I'm coming down.
She picked up the small purse from the counter and left the apartment.
Élysée gleamed with gold and crystal.
Soft music.
Muted lights.
Expensive perfume mingled with the scent of sophisticated drinks.
Nicole threw her arms open dramatically when she saw Camile walk in.
— Finally! I thought you were going to show up in a suit.
Vanessa's eyes widened.
— My God…
Camile arched an eyebrow.
— What?
— You look fucking incredible in that dress.
Nicole pointed at her glass.
— This is going to cause trouble tonight.
Camile sat down elegantly.
— Relax. I only came to drink.
— That's exactly what dangerous women say before emotionally destroying some man.
She picked up her wineglass, unconcerned by the provocation.
She relaxed.
For real.
Her friends chatted animatedly while she discreetly observed the luxurious surroundings.
Men looked at her constantly.
Some tried to hide it.
Others didn't.
Camile was used to it.
The problem with male desire was that many men confused attraction with entitlement.
And she hated men like that.
— There's a guy who's been looking at you for about five minutes — Vanessa commented.
Camile didn't even turn around.
— He must have nothing to say.
Nicole laughed.
— Arrogant.
— Realistic.
Then Vanessa subtly tilted her head.
— No… seriously. That one over there.
Camile turned her face without hurrying.
And saw him.
A tall man.
A dark suit perfectly fitted to his body.
Strong jaw.
Intense gaze.
Cocky.
She noticed that immediately.
Some men carried power.
Others carried ego.
That man carried both.
He sat alone at the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
His eyes fixed on her.
Without the slightest shame.
Camile held his gaze for only two seconds before turning her attention back to her glass.
Indifferent.
And that was exactly what caught his attention.
Because Victor Ventura wasn't used to being ignored.
Across the room, Victor watched the blonde woman return to talking with her friends as if he simply didn't exist.
It awakened something dangerous inside him.
Curiosity.
And Victor Ventura rarely ignored anything that sparked his interest.