Fate’s Rival

The tension in the air was electric as Lian Mei stormed into the private boardroom, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Zhao Yan stood by the window, his back to her, the city lights casting a faint glow over his tall, composed frame.

"I cannot believe you undermined me like that," she snapped, her voice laced with fury.

Zhao Yan turned slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers with the calm precision that always set her on edge. "Undermined?" he echoed, his tone infuriatingly smooth. "I merely corrected your approach. If I hadn't stepped in, we would have lost the client entirely."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I had it under control! You didn't need to swoop in like some self-appointed savior."

He took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "Control? Is that what you call nearly letting them walk out?"

"You don't get to decide what I can or can't handle, Zhao Yan!" she shot back, her voice rising.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something behind his composed exterior—anger, maybe, or frustration. But he quickly masked it, as always.

"You're too emotional," he said coldly. "That's why you fail to see the bigger picture."

Lian Mei felt the sting of his words, but she refused to back down. She took a step closer, her chin tilting defiantly. "And you're too arrogant to admit when you're wrong."

The room felt smaller now, the space between them charged with unresolved tension.

"I don't have time for your tantrums," Zhao Yan said, his voice low but cutting. "If you want this partnership to work, learn to keep your emotions in check."

"Partnership?" she scoffed, her anger boiling over. "You don't even see me as an equal. You're just using me to—"

"Enough," he interrupted, his voice sharp.

But Lian Mei wasn't done. The frustration, the anger, and the inexplicable pull she felt toward him all collided in that moment. "No, you don't get to shut me up! You think you're so perfect, so untouchable, but let me tell you—"

Before she could finish, Zhao Yan closed the distance between them in one swift movement. His hand caught her wrist, pulling her closer, and his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was sudden, unexpected, and completely disarming.

Lian Mei froze, her thoughts scattering like autumn leaves in a storm. For a heartbeat, she considered pulling away, but then something shifted. The heat of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it was overwhelming, infuriating, and utterly captivating all at once.

When he finally pulled back, she stared at him, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

"What the hell was that?" she managed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and something she couldn't quite name.

Zhao Yan's expression was unreadable, but his gaze was steady, his dark eyes locked onto hers. "You were about to say something you'd regret," he said simply.

Her eyes narrowed. "So your solution was to kiss me?"

He shrugged, infuriatingly calm. "It worked, didn't it?"

Lian Mei's hand shot out, pushing him back. "You—" She searched for the right words, but nothing seemed adequate. Her emotions were a tangled mess, and the memory of his lips on hers refused to fade.

"This doesn't change anything," she said finally, her voice firm despite the chaos inside her.

"I wouldn't expect it to," Zhao Yan replied, his tone cool and controlled once more.

But as she turned to leave, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had shifted irrevocably.

And for the first time, she wasn't entirely sure she hated it.