The clock read half past seven in the evening when Carla entered Selene's office without knocking, carrying two coffees in her hand and a raised eyebrow of suspicion.
"Still here?" she asked, leaving one of the cups on her friend's desk. "Don't you ever think about leaving?"
Selene looked up, her eyes shining with contained rage, but with an expression so serene that it gave Carla a small shiver. That face only meant one thing: something serious had just happened.
"What happened now?" she asked cautiously, sitting in the chair in front of her. "Are you like this because Mr. CEO approved Alan's proposal?"
Selene slowly turned the monitor to turn it off and interlaced her hands on the table, as if she were about to confess a crime.
"Do you remember the proposal I refused to present this week?" she asked in a low voice.
"The one about social media?"
"Yes. I improved it a little, added new data... and gave it to Alan to present as his own."
Carla blinked, surprised.
"What?"
"I wanted to test something, Carla. I wanted to see if the problem was with the idea or with me."
The blonde remained silent, staring at her. Then she took a sip of her coffee, as if she needed the caffeine boost to process what she had just heard.
"I understand... So?"
"Damian Blackwood accepted it without objections. He said it was 'coherent, modern, and solid.' His exact words," Selene said through her teeth, with a mixture of anger, disappointment, and bitter satisfaction.
"Are you sure Alan didn't make significant changes?"
"Only the order of the sections. Everything else was the same, Carla. The same!" Selene stood up abruptly, starting to walk around the office like a caged animal. "It's exactly the same thing I presented to him a few days ago, but since someone with pants and a deep voice presented it, it suddenly seemed brilliant."
Carla followed her with her eyes, not daring to interrupt her.
"And what are you going to do now?"
"I already asked for an appointment with him. I'm going to talk to him tomorrow," she replied with icy determination. "I'm not going to keep letting him walk all over me just because he's bothered that I don't shut my mouth like the others."
"What if he has a valid reason?"
Selene stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze fixed on her friend.
"What valid reason can there be to ignore my ideas just because I'm the one presenting them?"
Carla sighed.
"I don't know. But..." she paused, measuring her words. "What if it's not personal in the bad sense?"
Selene frowned.
"How not in the bad sense?"
"What if... he likes you?"
"What?!" The laughter that came out of her mouth was more incredulous than amused. "No, Carla. This has nothing to do with 'he likes you.' The guy is a despot. He can't stand anyone contradicting him. And clearly, the fact that that person is me drives him crazy even faster."
Carla smiled slightly.
"And you? He drives you crazy too, doesn't he? Or am I wrong?"
Selene snorted and sat down again, crossing her arms.
"That's not the point."
"No, of course not," her friend said, raising her hands in surrender. "But if you're going to confront him tomorrow, you better be clear about what your real motive is."
"My motive is simple and I'm more than clear about it," Selene replied, staring at the edge of her desk. "I don't care if he likes me or not. All I want is for him to recognize that he can't treat me differently just for not being submissive and compliant like the rest."
Carla watched her for a moment longer, then nodded slowly.
"Then go and expose him."
"That's what I intend to do."
The next day...
The clock read exactly 10:00 when Selene firmly knocked on the door of Damian's office.
"Come in," his voice was heard from inside.
The girl entered with her head held high, the dossier in one hand and her lips firmly pressed together. Damian, standing by the window, slowly turned to look at her. His eyes scanned her figure with an attention too sharp to be purely professional.
"Miss Montero," he said, with that deep, authoritarian tone that irritated her nerves so much and scared more than one person, but not her. "Punctual. I like that."
"I didn't come here to please you, Mr. Blackwood," she replied bluntly, closing the door behind her. "I came to talk to you clearly."
An eyebrow arched slightly, but he gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.
"Then speak."
Selene sat down elegantly, but her eyes did not leave his at any time.
"You rejected my proposal on Monday without even letting me explain it completely."
"Because it was a weak proposal," he refuted without hesitation.
"Weak?" Selene placed the dossier on the table with a dry thud. "It's exactly the same proposal that you accepted yesterday when Alan presented it."
The silence that fell in the office was dense, like a heavy fog.
Damian did not respond immediately. He simply watched her, without moving, without even blinking.
"Are you telling me that Alan presented your idea?"
"Yes. And he did it because I gave it to him. I wanted to see if the problem was with my strategy or with me. And, judging by your reaction, I already have the answer."
Damian approached the desk, rested his hands on the polished surface, and leaned slightly towards her. His gaze was no longer neutral.
"Are you accusing me of bias?"
"I'm stating it," she replied, with a tense calm. "I don't know if it bothers you that I contradict you, that I'm not afraid of you, or that I'm not one of your employees who lower their heads without arguing. But your constant rejections of my ideas are no longer a coincidence, Mr. Blackwood."
Damian's brow furrowed slightly, but his voice sounded lower, almost like a contained growl.
"Be careful how you speak to me, Miss Montero."
"And if I'm not careful, what are you going to do? Fire me?" her eyes shone, not with defiance, but with the passion that boiled in her blood. "Do it, if you want. But I'm not going to stay silent while you trample on my work."
Damian clenched his jaw. The tension between them was like a taut rope about to break. Finally, he straightened up and walked around the desk to sit in his leather chair. His fingers interlaced in front of him.
"What if I told you that I don't have a problem with your work, but with... you?"
Selene blinked. The air seemed to stop for a second.
"Excuse me?"
"It's not professional," he said, with a coldness that seemed to protect something deeper. "You unsettle me. You irritate me. You provoke me. And that shouldn't happen to me with an employee."
She stood up, her heart pounding.
"I didn't come here to talk about what I provoke in you, Mr. Blackwood. I came to tell you that I deserve respect. That my work deserves it. It doesn't matter if you like me or not. I'm not going to continue tolerating unequal treatment because of your... poorly managed emotions."
Damian stood up too, but said nothing. They just stared at each other, the dense air between them charged with an electricity that was hard to ignore.
"Thank you for your time, sir," Selene said, in a firm voice.
And without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels and left the office.
Damian stood there, watching the door close behind her, his muscles tense and his thoughts burning under his skin.
She had just declared war on him.
And the worst part was that a part of him... had enjoyed it.
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