CHAPTER THREE

Nora's POV

My hands curl into fists as I pace the length of the office, my heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet. I know I shouldn’t let this get to me—I shouldn’t care what Adrian Sterling thinks of me. But the words I overheard last night refuse to leave my head.

"I don’t have time to entertain some charity case."

The cold dismissal in his voice had sent a sharp sting through my chest. I had only gone to grab a report from his office when I heard him speaking on the phone. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when I heard my own name—when I heard that—I couldn’t walk away.

"You think I care? She won’t last a month."

I stop pacing and press my lips together to keep the bitterness from spilling out. The arrogance. The sheer audacity of him.

I clench my jaw. Fine. If that’s how he sees me, let’s see how much he enjoys my company now.

The door swings open, and Adrian strides in, looking effortlessly composed in his dark suit. His sharp gaze flicks to me, registering my presence, but I don’t give him a chance to speak.

“You’re an arrogant ass,” I snap.

He raises an eyebrow. “Good morning to you too.”

“Don’t.” I take a step forward, my voice low and sharp. “I heard you last night. I heard what you said about me.”

Adrian sighs as he sets his briefcase down. “You were eavesdropping?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?” I let out a humorless laugh. “You called me a charity case. You said I wouldn’t last a month.”

His expression darkens, but he doesn’t apologize. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

My blood boils. “Oh, so it’s fine to talk about me like that, as long as I don’t hear it?”

The door swings open again before he can respond, and the air shifts.

Vivienne Laurent walks in like she owns the place, her black dress hugging her curves perfectly. Everything about her is polished—glossy hair, flawless makeup, the quiet kind of confidence that comes from knowing you belong.

My stomach knots, but I keep my expression blank.

“Adrian,” she purrs, ignoring me completely. She walks up to him and places a hand on his chest, her manicured nails resting there like she has every right. “Miss me?”

And then, like I don’t even exist, she kisses him.

I go still, forcing my hands to remain at my sides. The rational part of me knows I shouldn’t care—Adrian and I aren’t anything. But that doesn’t stop the small, sharp sting in my chest as she presses her lips to his.

He doesn’t kiss her back.

When she pulls away, his expression is a mixture of irritation and something else—something unreadable. His gaze flicks to me for half a second before he looks back at her.

“That was unnecessary,” he says coolly.

Vivienne pouts. “Oh, don’t be so grumpy.” And then, as if just noticing me for the first time, she turns.

Her eyes drag over me slowly, like she’s taking me in for the first time, before she tilts her head with a small, knowing smirk.

“Oh, darling,” she says, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I didn’t know you hired help from charity.”

Silence.

I feel the words like a slap, but I refuse to flinch. I know exactly what she wants—to see me shrink, to see me fumble for an excuse to leave.

I give her nothing.

Instead, I let a slow smile spread across my lips. “That’s funny,” I say smoothly. “Because I didn’t know desperate exes made house calls.”

Vivienne’s smirk falters.

The tension in the room thickens. Adrian exhales sharply, almost like he’s trying to suppress something.

Amusement?

I keep my gaze locked on Vivienne, unbothered. “You’re still here?” I ask, feigning boredom. “That’s surprising. I thought you’d be busy trying to gold-dig someone who actually wants you.”

Her face darkens.

Adrian stays silent, but I catch something flicker across his face. His gaze sharpens as he watches me, his expression unreadable.

And then—for just a second—I see it.

Admiration.

I don’t stick around to analyze it. Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk out, head high.

I am not a charity case.

And if Adrian Sterling wants me gone in a month, I’ll make damn sure he regrets every second of it.