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Eleanor smiles with a malice that makes Harper’s blood run cold.

“How passionate, Harper. You’ve always had that streak.”

“What’s going to happen to Victoria?” Harper interrupts, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Tell me!”

Eleanor pauses deliberately, then leans back in her chair.

“Victoria is going to lead an expansion project.”

Harper feels the ground give way beneath her feet.

“What project?”

“The publishing house is launching an independent haute couture magazine for the European market. A project with an unlimited budget, run entirely from Paris.”

The word “Paris” echoes off the office walls. Harper freezes, unable to speak, transported back to the doorstep of her apartment, watching as the taxi carried away the woman she loved.

“No…” Harper whispers, shaking her head. “It can’t be true.”

“Victoria Vance is the only executive with the right profile, the connections, and the drive needed to launch the magazine in France,” Eleanor continues cynically. “And that contract and absolute creative control won’t do her any harm. It’s an offer no one in their right mind would turn down.”

“You handed it to her on a silver platter,” Harper accuses, with what little voice she has left. “You orchestrated this to get rid of her and destroy me in the process. Because you know we’re a threat to your plans. To the image the board has of you.”

“I just facilitated the call. We all know Victoria’s too ambitious to stay in your shadow, and you’re too proud to be in hers. I’ve done you both a favor.”

Harper feels like throwing up.

“And she agreed?” Harper asks.

Eleanor glances toward the door.

“I imagine she’s already starting her next meeting.”

Now, it all clicks in Harper’s head.

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m a successful executive, Harper. And you should thank me. Now you have a clear path to becoming the next Editor-in-Chief of Velvet & Silk in New York. Just what you wanted.”

Harper feels such deep revulsion that it burns her throat.

“Shove that job where the sun doesn’t shine, Eleanor.”

“Watch how you talk to me!” the woman yells, slamming both hands down on the table.

“I couldn’t care less about your job, the magazine, or your fucking ambition,” Harper snaps. “You’ve been playing with people’s lives, but you’ve forgotten one thing: people aren’t pieces on a chessboard. And I’m going to make that very clear to you.”

“Get out of my office right now!” Eleanor shouts, losing her cool for the first time in years.

Harper grabs her purse and slings it back over her shoulder.

“I’d be delighted, believe me. But I swear on everything sacred that I won’t let you get away with this.”

Harper storms out of the office, slamming the door shut with a thunderous bang. Without wasting a second, she pulls her cell phone out of her pocket to call Victoria as she strides through the newsroom.

A beep… and another… and another.

“Your call is being forwarded to voicemail…”