Chapter 8 Return of The Enemy!
Aria’s Pov
The next morning, I stood in front of the full–length mirror, smoothing out the soft gray dress the housemaid had picked out.
Lhad no idea what kind of impression I wanted to make at Kian’s company, but one thing was certain–I didn’t want to look like a woman still stuck in the shadow of her past.
“Ma’am, the driver is ready,” one of the housemaids said from behind me.”
I nodded. “Tell him I’ll be out in a moment.”
As the car pulled into the sleek parking lot of Foster’s International, I took a deep breath.
The building itself was imposing–glass and steel stretching to the sky. But inside me, something else stirred.}
I was no longer Aria Harrington. I was Aria Foster. And this place wasn’t Austin’s empire. It was Kian’s.
The moment I stepped inside, a woman with a clipboard approached me, smiling politely.
“Helio! Are you here for the casting?”
1 blinked. “Casting?“}
She glanced at my outfit. “You look like one of the models. Sorry, they usually don’t enter through the front…”
“I’m not here for casting,” I said, tone calm but clear. “I’m Mrs. Foster. Kian Foster’s wife.”
The woman’s eyes widened. Her clipboard nearly slipped from her fingers.
“1–I’m so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know…”
It’s fine,” I said, walking past her without another word.
As walked through the hallways, a few more staff glanced my way, their eyes lingering a bit longer than usual. Whispers trailed behind
- me.
“Did you hear? That’s the boss’s new wife…”
“Wait, really? I thought she was just-“}
“She’s so beautiful! Why does she look familiar though?”
I ignored them and made my way to the design floor. Kian had told me I could look around freely, and I wanted to see how the team worked. I had no intention of being a silent partner.
I took the elevator up to the 18th floor–Kian’s design headquarters.
The air smelled of fabric and coffee. Desks were cluttered with sketches, fabrics, and swatches.
A few designers looked up and nodded, but no one dared approach.
I wandered through the space, brushing my fingers across a board filled with pinned concept sketches.
And then I heard it.
“…I already told Mira it’s risky. The Foster name holds too much power now-”
“She said Aria’s designs are old sketches. If we present them with some tweaks, the client won’t even notice.“}
I froze near a glass wall just outside the main conference
“She’s confident she can convince the buyers that the designs are hers,” another voice added. “She’s been feeding them to that Korean client behind Kian’s back.”
My heart clenched. Mira.
Of course it was her.
I stepped back, hiding behind one of the pillar structures as the voices faded inside the room. My pulse raced.
Mira was trying to steal my work again. She wasn’t just content with destroying my life–she was coming for my talent too.
I walked briskly to the corner desk where a junior staff member was arranging files.
“Can you show me the recent client portfolios submitted for overseas distribution?” The young man nodded quickly and handed me a folder. I flipped through the sheets.
There they were–my sketches. Slightly altered, but still mine.
I knew every curve, every line, every intention. Mira had copied them, adjusted the layout, and claimed them under her name.
I clenched the file in my hand.
No, not yet
Not here, not now.
I needed to be smarter than her.
I walked back into the private office Kian had reserved for me.§
T
The lights were warm, the desk already filled with fresh stationery and a silver nameplate that read “Aria Foster.”
It made me smile for a brief second.
Then I sat down and pulled out a blank design sheet.
started sketching. Not my real work and definitely not my best.
Return of The Enemy
12:00 AM
Just something flashy enough to catch Mira’s greedy eyes.
After half an hour, I had a new design. A useless one. Flawed in cut, impossible in proportion, and expensive to execute. A design that would fail–intentionally.
I tagged it with Mira’s name and left it on the assistant’s desk marked for submission. If she wanted to steal, fd give her something wort stealing.
Let’s see how long she lasts with my landmines.
