Sabine didn’t doubt for a second that Adair would fuck him up. Her lips curved faintly at the thought because somehow that was both aggravating and comforting. She didn’t want to be a prize they fought over but it did feel good, knowing someone loved you that loud.
A knock came at the door.
Sabine straightened a little. “Give me one sec,” she called, rinsing her hands quickly and patting them dry before stepping back into her office. She expected Narri. Or maybe one of the interns to ask if she wanted a plate brought in.
She didnotexpect Corrine.
Sabine’s steps slowed.
Corrine stood in the doorway, hair still perfect, tablet clutched to her chest like a shield of some sort. Sabine didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at her. Let herselfseethe woman.
Not just the threat she used to be.
But the reality.
Corrine looked…composed. Calm. Not smug but not regretful either.
Sabine took a small step forward, but didn’t invite her in. “Corrine.” Her voice was even. “Can I help you with something?”
She didn’t offer a seat.
Didn’t soften even a little.
Corrine shifted slightly offering a tight smile, polite on the surface, but Sabine didn’t miss the way her eyes dragged across the office, cataloging the details. She couldn’t stand people like this. People who wronged but still felt as if they had theright.
“I didn’t want to leave without saying congratulations,” Corrine said smoothly. “That was…impressive. The way you walked that room through every clause like you wrote the contract yourself.”
“I did.” Sabine gave a soft blink.
Corrine faltered a breath, then smiled again like it didn’t sting. “Of course. I just meant…it’s not always the case. Founders aren’t always that hands-on.”
“I am.” Sabine didn’t return the smile.
There was a brief pause. Not long. Just enough for Corrine to read the temperature and decide how much heat she could handle.
“I know it probably wasn’t easy, working with…all parties involved,” she continued, stepping one inch into the office without waiting for an invite. “But I think we both handled it with grace. I certainly did my best to keep everything above board.”
“Above board?” Sabine raised an eyebrow.
“Professional,” Corrine’s lip twitched. “I mean. No drama.”
“You sure about that?”
“We’ve all made mistakes, Sabine. I’m sure even you have a few. But clearly, you came out on top.” Her gaze flicked, briefly, to Sabine’s midsection. “In more ways than one.”
Sabine stood still, posture regal. Calm but her silence wasn’t passive. It was reserve. Only reserve because she was at her place of work.
Corrine kept going.
“I just wanted to acknowledge that,” she said, brushing a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve. “And I think it’s clear he’s…invested. Whatever’s going on between you two—” she shrugged like it wasn’t a grenade she’d just dropped, “—well, I hope it works out this time.”
There it was.
That same saccharine tone Sabine remembered from all those late nights when Corrine’s name first started ringing in her head. Kindness with a knife tucked inside. Sabine tilted her head slightly, her smile slow. Not wide. Just enough to show her teeth.
“It will.” She said it calmly, no emphasis. Just fact. She let the air settle before stepping closer. Close enough for Corrine to lose her footing behind that practiced neutrality. Close enough for every word to cut exactly where it should. “And you’re right, we’ve all made mistakes. Yours was thinking you could win by snaking into a marriage you were never invited to. As if taking what was broken made it yours. As if he was ever going to stay.”
Corrine stiffened, but Sabine wasn’t done.