Page 52 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Market appropriate for this level of luxury."

She closes the folder slowly, sets it on her lap, and looks at me directly.

"This is incredible," she says. Her voice is steady, professional, but I can hear the undercurrent—genuine appreciation for the scope, the opportunity.

"Which makes me wonder why you're offering it to me."

"You're the best fit for the project."

"I'm also in a relationship with your brother."

Direct. Unflinching.

I don't look away. "I'm aware."

"And that doesn't concern you?"

"Should it?" I keep my voice level.

"This is business."

Her jaw tightens slightly.

"This is a major conflict with Sterling Commercial. I've done projects for your family's firm. Your parents know my work."

"That sounds like Rowan's problem, not yours."

"Easy for you to say."

I lean back in my chair, study her. She's not backing down. Good.

"I'm offering you eight to ten million dollars for Manhattan's most high-profile residential project this year," I say.

"Three units that will be featured in every major design publication. Portfolio work that will elevate Winter Hayes Design to a different tier entirely."

She winces slightly. Because I'm right, and she knows it.

"That's compelling," she admits.

"It's meant to be."

I pause, let the silence stretch for a beat, then add with deliberate casualness:

"I assumed you were a businesswoman, Ms. Hayes. Was I wrong?"

Her eyes flash—a spark of something that looks like challenge, maybe anger, maybe interest. All three.

"Careful, Mr. Sterling." Her voice is soft, controlled, but there's steel underneath.

"That sounded like a challenge."

I almost smile. Almost.

"Did it? I thought it sounded like an observation."

For a moment, we just look at each other. The air in the office feels charged. Thicker than it should be. Then Winter sets the folder on the small table between us and stands.

"May I see the larger renderings?"