Don't Throw Yourself At Me. It's Useless.

The sharp vibration of a cell phone shattered the quiet interior of the Maybach. Victor glanced at the console. The caller ID flashed with Carter's name. He pressed the button on the steering wheel to connect the call, keeping his eyes fixed on the Aura retail store across the street.

"Where are you? I've been sitting at this table for almost an hour waiting for you!" Carter's frustrated voice filled the luxurious cabin.

Victor had forgotten their dinner plans entirely. His mind was too occupied tracking the woman currently marching out of her fifth jewelry store of the afternoon. "I have something to handle. I won't make it tonight."

He ended the call before Carter could utter another word of complaint. He did not care about his cousin's bruised ego. He sat in the driver's seat and watched Cora Atwood toss another branded velvet bag onto the passenger seat of her car. She slammed the door shut with unnecessary force. Her delicate features were pulled into a tight scowl, her jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Victor gripped the leather steering wheel. He was a man who prided himself on solving the most complex corporate puzzles, yet he sat there in the shadows, bewildered. He could not figure out why she was methodically buying out her own company's inventory.

The answer was unveiled early the next morning.

Morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Aura headquarters conference room, illuminating the tense faces of the middle and senior management team. Cora stood at the head of the long mahogany table. She unzipped a large leather tote bag and began pulling out small, distinctive Aura jewelry boxes. She snapped them open one by one and lined them up down the center of the table. Rings, pendants, and bracelets rested on their velvet cushions under the glaring fluorescent lights.

Cora placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. Her beautiful eyes swept across the room, razor-sharp and unyielding. The executives shifted uncomfortably in their ergonomic chairs.

"I want answers this morning. Who is responsible for purchasing these raw materials? Who authorized these retail prices? And who is currently in charge of training our frontline shop assistants?" Cora demanded.

Her voice was crisp and commanding. No one dared to meet her gaze. The silence in the room stretched out, thick and suffocating. Aura possessed a roster of steady, reputable suppliers. Ever since Marian Lancaster founded the brand, the company had maintained strict contracts with well-known raw gemstone providers both domestically and internationally. These established suppliers did not ship inferior products. The issue lay internally. Either the purchasing agents were taking kickbacks, or they possessed terrible judgment and were gambling on cheap raw stones to cover their losses. The worst possibility was that management knew exactly how worthless these pieces were and deliberately preyed on the asymmetric information in the gem industry to scam their own customers.

The executives kept their mouths shut. Instead, their eyes drifted down the table and landed collectively on Vanessa.

Vanessa sat rigidly in her chair. She hated the way the room commanded their attention toward Cora. She hated the charm radiating from her half-sister, a natural magnetism that people had praised since they were children. She forced a polite, patronizing smile onto her face and folded her hands over her notepad.

"Cora, there is no need to be so angry over a few pieces of jewelry. The raw materials were provided by our original suppliers. They have cooperated with Aura for many years. As for the shop assistants, our company provides regular training for them every year. Just tell me which specific store gave you poor service, and I will inform their manager to schedule a refresher course." Vanessa spoke in a light, dismissive tone.

She wanted the room to view Cora as petty. She wanted to frame this entire display as a trivial grievance over a single bad shopping experience.

Cora did not take the bait. She reached out and picked up a silver chain holding a translucent, milky-white stone. She held it up for the entire room to see.

"Please tell me the material classification of this pendant, Miss Atwood." Cora stared directly at Vanessa.

Vanessa swallowed hard. She knew very little about gemology. She relied on the brand's legacy to push sales. "Cora, you are the expert in this field. Why do you insist on making things difficult for me?"

"I am not making things difficult for you. I am doing my job. This pendant is labeled and priced as premium 'Glass Type' jadeite in our retail stores. This white gem is actually carved from cheap Russian mountain material. Yet, under your management, Aura is selling it at the exact same price point as high-grade Nephrite." Cora dropped the pendant onto the table. It landed with a sharp clack.

She picked up a platinum ring holding a sparkling centerpiece. "This diamond is clearly a VVS2 clarity level. The inclusions are visible under basic magnification. Why is it being marketed and sold to our customers at the flawless FL level?"

Vanessa sat frozen. Her face drained of color. Her knuckles turned white from gripping her designer pen. She could not comprehend why Cora was doing this publicly. Inflating the grades of the stones was a simple tactic to increase profit margins. Over the past few years, the company had struggled. If it were not for Victor's financial backing, Aura would have gone bankrupt. Fudging the numbers on clarity and material origins kept the revenue flowing. She did not see the problem.

Cora moved down the line. She systematically dismantled Vanessa's flimsy business practices piece by piece. She pointed out the treated colors in the sapphires, the synthetic fillers in the rubies, and the abysmal cut grades on stones marketed as excellent. She laid bare the fraudulent pricing standards infecting the entire company.

Vanessa felt the judgment of the room pressing down on her. She raised her head, forcing moisture into her eyes to look as pitiful as possible.

"Cora, I know I cannot compare with your expertise in jewelry. You cannot expect the management team to be master gemologists. We specialize in corporate management and operations. Even our colleagues in the purchasing and design departments do not have your extensive background. You are holding us to an impossible standard." Vanessa let her voice tremble just enough to sound victimized.

"From now on, hand over all purchasing and training departments to Cora Atwood."

The cold, authoritative male voice echoed from the open doorway.

Every head in the conference room snapped toward the entrance. Victor stood there, framed by the doorframe. His dark suit was impeccably tailored, his broad shoulders filling the space. His intimidating gaze swept over the long table, landing heavily on the executives. No one knew how long he had been standing there or how much of the embarrassing presentation he had witnessed.

Vanessa sprang up from her chair. Panic hijacked her carefully crafted victim persona. "Victor! Aura's purchasing has always been handled under your direct oversight!"

She could not tolerate him stripping away her corporate power and handing it to her rival. She stepped forward, her voice rising in a desperate, trembling objection.

Victor ignored her plea. He stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space. "Let professionals handle professional issues. Does anyone have any objections?"

He looked around the table. The executives cast their eyes downward. No one dared to breathe, let alone object to Victor Crawford.

Cora stood at the head of the table, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She did not understand his unprecedented delegation of power. This man despised her. He had spent the last five years spoiling Vanessa and backing her every move. Handing over the core operations of Aura to Cora felt like a trap.

Before she could question his motives, Victor turned on his heel and walked out of the conference room.

Vanessa glared at Cora. Her chest heaved with indignant rage. She refused to believe Victor was doing this out of genuine respect for Cora's professional skills. She had been by his side since he returned to the country. He was ruthless, indifferent, and always kept a calculated distance from the daily operations of Aura, despite owning the majority of the shares. Why was he suddenly showing up every day? Why was he humiliating her in front of the board just days after Cora returned?

Vanessa vowed to herself that she would never let Cora take Aura away from her. The company belonged to her.

Cora ignored Vanessa's murderous glare. She immediately ordered the administrative staff to schedule a new round of mandatory training for all shop assistants, utilizing the absolute authority Victor had just publicly handed her.

She gathered her notes and walked down the hallway to her private office. She pushed the heavy wooden door open and stopped dead in her tracks.

Victor was sitting on the leather sofa in the corner of her office. His long legs were crossed, his posture relaxed, but his imposing aura filled the confined space.

Cora masked her irritation. She hated that he felt entitled to barge into her private workspace without knocking.

"Hello, Mr. Crawford. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Cora greeted him, her tone strictly professional.

"Are you not satisfied with my arrangement?" Victor asked. His dark eyes locked onto hers, analyzing her every micro-expression.

Cora walked behind her desk and set her files down. "You misunderstood me, Mr. Crawford. On the contrary, I agree entirely with your logic. It is best to let professionals handle professional issues."

Victor stared at the woman standing behind the desk. She was beautiful, arrogant, and carried herself with an infuriating confidence. Her amorous eyes always looked glossy, giving her a naturally seductive appearance even when she was talking business. He found her to be a massive troublemaker. He decided he had been too lenient, allowing her to mistake his silence for weakness.

He stood up from the sofa. His tall, muscular frame cast a long shadow across the carpet. He closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps.

Cora held her ground as he stopped right in front of her desk. He leaned forward, placing both of his large hands flat on the polished wood. He loomed over her, invading her personal space. He wore a black silk shirt that clung to the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with a dark, masculine heat drifted across the desk, brushing against her senses.

An inexplicable, powerful rush of familiarity coursed through Cora's veins. Her heart kicked against her ribs. A sudden wave of shyness made her uneasy, but she refused to break eye contact.

"Should I call you Evelyn Monroe or Cora Atwood?" Victor challenged, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "I do not care which identity you prefer. I am warning you right now. Aura is a place of business. It is not a battleground for you to fight out your personal vendettas with Vanessa."

The accusation hit Cora like a physical blow. The sudden shyness evaporated, replaced instantly by boiling rage. This man was an outsider. He had swooped in and bought up the shares of a brand her own mother had bled to build. Now he had the nerve to lean over her desk and lecture her about protecting it.

"How dare you." Cora stood up abruptly.

Her sudden movement was too fast. The heel of her stiletto caught the edge of the thick office rug. Her ankle twisted sharply. She lost her balance, her arms flailing as gravity dragged her backward.

Victor reacted on pure instinct. He took a massive step around the edge of the desk, his long legs eating up the distance in a fraction of a second. He reached out and clamped his strong, muscular arms around her soft, slender waist just before she hit the floor.

The impact of their bodies colliding sent a violent, tense shockwave through the air between them.

Cora gasped. The heat radiating from his hands seared through the thin fabric of her dress. His elegant, familiar scent enveloped her, making her breath catch in her throat. Her muscles involuntarily tightened against his iron grip.

Victor froze. He held her suspended against him. His mind reeled in absolute shock. He had spent his entire adult life suffering from a deeply ingrained physical resistance toward women. The mere touch of a woman usually triggered a wave of intense disgust and repulsion in his gut.

But holding Cora felt natural. Her waist was incredibly soft and fit perfectly into the curve of his arm. He felt the warmth of her skin, the rapid thumping of her pulse. He felt no disgust. He felt no urge to push her away. Instead, a dangerous, magnetic pull urged him to pull her closer.

He shoved the shattering realization down and forced his cold, arrogant composure back into place.

"Don't throw yourself at me. It's useless," Victor warned in a chilling tone, his face an unreadable mask.

At that exact second, the office door was pushed wide open. No knock. No warning.

Vanessa stood frozen in the doorway. Her eyes widened in absolute disbelief as she stared at their intimately intertwined bodies. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.

"Victor, Cora... What... what are you doing?"