?Chapter 1005:


    But instead of feeling relieved, Ste felt a wave of difort wash over her. She didn’t even want to touch the contract.


    In her heart, she believed she could earn every opportunity herself; she didn’t need Marc handing things to her as if she couldn’t manage on her own.


    Almost as though he had guessed her thoughts, Marc lifted his arm, blocking her from walking away. “The client signed because of you, not me. I only set up the meeting. He’s genuinely impressed with your work. Are you really going to reject this project just because my name is in the mix?”


    His words made her falter.


    As much as she disliked it, she knew he was right—personal grudges shouldn’t interfere with professional matters.


    This deal was a beneficial move for Neb, and if the client had signed because of her, there was no reason to throw it away.


    Still, the fact that Marc was involved left a bitter taste in her mouth.


    “Stel, business is business. Don’t mix it with personal feelings. You know better than that.”


    His gentle tone chipped at her firmness until, atst, she took the file from him. Her eyes, however, stayed sharp. “Don’t think this means I owe you,” she said coolly. “I’ll confirm with the client myself. If he signed only because of you, then I won’t ept this deal.”


    She snapped the folder shut, turned on her heel, and got into her car without another nce. Marc watched her leave, not the least bit upset. Instead, a slow smile spread across his face.


    She was starting to lower her guard. If he kept showing up for her, she would eventually fall back into his arms. He was sure of it. Especially now that William was no longer someone she could lean on. That left him as her only support.


    That evening, Marc dressed with deliberate care, intending to pick Ste up from the institute and invite her out to dinner. He was certain she wouldn’t turn him down—not now, not after she had officially signed the partnership agreement.


    With that confidence, he arrived at the entrance, already picturing the evening ahead.


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    But before he could take a step further, a familiar voice came from behind him. It carried a soft amusement, calm yet pointed.


    “Mr. Walsh, it’s been a while. Where are you headed in such a hurry?”


    Marc froze and slowly turned toward the sound. Not far away, a white Porsche gleamed under the fading light, its surface polished to perfection. Leaning casually against it stood a woman.


    She was dressed in a crisp white Chanel suit from the newest collection, her whole presence radiating poise and quiet authority. Her makeup was immacte, her expression serene, and the wild arrogance she once wore so boldly had been reced by an aura of cool detachment.


    Spinning a pair of sunsses between her fingers, she regarded him with a faint, ambiguous smile. Marc’s breath caught. “Haley?”


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