Ivy stopped tracking Nathaniel’s presence entirely and turned her full attention back to Sebastian.
“Design isn’t just a sketch on paper.
It has to work as a product, and it has to move in the market.
Wolfe Jewels has that pipeline dialed in, both domestically and overseas.
Hear out the full plan, production, distribution, and research together before you decide anything.”
Sebastian considered it for a beat, then settled back into his seat.
Ivy let out a breath and felt her thoughts click into gear.
Once she was talking about her actual field, the words came easy, sharp, confident, something in her eyes lit up in a way it hadn’t all night.
Nathaniel found himself watching her, caught off guard by a version of her he hadn’t seen before.
There was a kind of fierce beauty in her right now, unguarded, every edge on full display, radiating a confidence she’d never once shown him.
Somewhere in that moment, it hit him Wren wasn’t in the room with them at all.
There was only Ivy Hart.
Something in his expression darkened.
He’d only ever seen the mask she wore this well.
This whoever this actually was had been there the entire time, hidden.
Before Sebastian could stop himself, he broke into applause.
“Director Hart.
You’ve genuinely impressed me tonight.”
Ivy asked, careful not to sound too eager, “So the partnership?”
“Business is business.
I go with whoever’s better.
Your work is the strongest asset on the table.”
Translation: the deal was hers.
She couldn’t quite suppress the relief breaking across her face.
Sebastian glanced over at Nathaniel, distracted and unreadable, and an idea clearly formed.
“How about this come work for me instead, Director Hart.
I’ll match whatever Wolfe Jewels is paying you, and beat it.”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened, displeasure flickering through him even as he kept his voice level.
“I appreciate you recognizing her talent.
She’s doing very well where she is.
No need to worry about her future, Mr.
Barrow.”
“We’re leaving.” Nathaniel said it flat, with zero room for debate, and walked straight out of the room.
The business was settled.
Ivy had no reason to linger, so she said her goodbyes and got up to follow.
She slipped his jacket off her shoulders on the way out and handed it back without ceremony.
“We’re done here.
Take this back before Chloe gets the wrong idea.”
“Ivy Hart.” His jaw clenched, face darkening.
Was she really in that much of a hurry to put distance between them?
Ivy tilted her head, genuinely confused.
“Is there something else?
You’d be better off spending this energy with your girlfriend instead of standing here.”
“You”
“Well, look who’s all gathered in one place.” The new voice cut the tension neatly in half.
Nathaniel’s expression iced over further the moment he registered who it belonged to.
Desmond raised an eyebrow.
“Lost track of my sister-in-law earlier, and here she turns up again.
Guess we’re just fated to keep running into each other.”
The insinuation in his tone was deliberate, and obvious.
Ivy’s brow furrowed.
This man cannot take a hint.
Chloe, hovering nearby, rushed over the second she spotted Nathaniel emerging.
“Nathaniel, what took you so long?
Director Hart you weren’t pressured into anything back there, were you?”
Nathaniel sidestepped her question, expression unreadable.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Chloe’s face before she recovered, drifting closer to his side instead.
Then, as if only just noticing the scene in front of her, she covered her mouth in exaggerated surprise.
“Director Hart you’re with Thornwood’s CEO again?
I don’t think anything improper is going on, truly, but gossip has a way of spreading regardless.
You should be more careful.”
Desmond laughed, delighted.
“Who’s got eyes sharp enough to clock the two of us as a match this fast?”
Something in Nathaniel went ice cold.
Ivy wasn’t about to let that slide.
“The two of you sync up so well, someone might mistake you for a couple yourselves.”
Chloe’s expression shifted instantly, wounded.
“Nathaniel, I only said something because I was worried about how it looked for her.
I really didn’t mean anything by it!”
Watching Ivy stand there next to Desmond only soured Nathaniel’s mood further, and he pulled Chloe close deliberately.
“Don’t apologize.
Why waste your breath on a woman who only cares about the bottom line?”
What.
Something bitter and sick settled in Ivy’s stomach; she stopped bothering to hope Nathaniel might ever give her the benefit of the doubt.
Watching the two of them together made her physically ill and the baby, apparently, agreed, unwilling to sit through any more of this.
She turned to leave.
Desmond caught up fast.
“Your husband’s busy fawning over his girlfriend.
It’s late, let me get you home.”
Ivy paused.
She still needed to find out who’d leaked the design files, and this was as good an opening as any.
She didn’t refuse.
Nathaniel watched the two of them walk off together, his expression going darker than the bottom of a well.
She knew exactly how deep the hostility ran between him and Desmond, and she was choosing to flirt with the man right in front of him anyway.
She’s doing this on purpose.
Chloe’s eyes flickered, and she offered, gentle and careful, “Nathaniel, I really don’t think Ivy’s that kind of woman.
Leaving with Desmond is probably just her way of getting back at you.”
“Don’t waste your sympathy on her.
I know exactly what she is.” Nathaniel’s hands curled into fists tight enough to ache.
Ivy was slipping further outside his control by the day, and the feeling gnawing at him, something like loss, though he refused to name it that kept getting harder to ignore.
The thought of her rushing toward divorce, toward some fresh start with someone else entirely, let something ugly and unchecked take root in his chest.
The moment they were clear of Elysium, Ivy got straight to it.
“Who handed you those design files for Thornwood?”
Desmond played dumb.
“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bother.
I’ll find out with or without you.”
“Leave Nathaniel, come work with me at Thornwood instead, and I’ll help you track down whoever betrayed you.” He reached to pull her closer.
He’d never liked Nathaniel to begin with, and anything that got under his brother’s skin was worth doing twice.
Betrayed?
Something flickered behind Ivy’s eyes.
In her mind, this man barely registered as a threat, let alone a traitor worth naming.
Which meant the real culprit was almost certainly someone close, someone on her own team, someone she trusted.
Mind made up, she smiled and stepped out of his reach.
“I already got the Barrow account back, actually.
I should thank you for getting me into the VIP section tonight.
I never would have met Sebastian Barrow otherwise.”
With that, she waved down a cab and left without a backward glance.
In the car, she made a string of calls, asking someone to quietly pull financial records and communication logs for anyone unusual on her team.
It took Desmond a beat to catch up to what had just happened.
His expression soured, and he immediately dialed Sebastian.
“You’re actually interested in someone else’s secondhand goods?
Didn’t take you for the type to sell out an old friend over a woman, Sebastian.”
Sebastian’s voice came back lazy, unbothered.
“I’m a businessman, not a charity.
If you can actually produce something original with half that spark, I might reconsider working with Thornwood again.”
Desmond hurled his phone down in fury, with nowhere to direct it.
Wren.
Nathaniel.
We’ll see how this plays out.
Late that night, back at the Wolfe estate.
Ivy was mildly surprised to find Nathaniel had brought Chloe home with him.
After a beat of silence, she turned and headed for her room without a word.
Out of sight, out of mind.
“Stop right there.” Her indifference lit something in him instantly.
He crossed the room in a few strides and caught her wrist.
“You smile like that for Sebastian Barrow and Desmond, and the second you see me, you disappear?
Let me remind you I’m still your legal husband.”
“This was work.
What’s your problem?” The grip on her wrist hurt, and something in his face unsettled her enough to pull hard against it.
The more she fought him, the further his temper slipped.
He shoved her down onto the sofa, voice low and cutting.
“If being alone bothers you this much, I’ll take care of that myself.”