As the Artistica Project is nearing its deadline Selene working shifting between the Artistica and their new project under Mondiego Empire Corporation thanks to the help Elaine she can work between two projects at a time.
Few months later.
Selene stood at the grand entrance of Skylar Corporation in Hillwood City. The building’s sleek silver façade gleamed under the afternoon sun, a monument of glass and steel rising sharply against a clear blue sky. It was modern, unyielding, and pristine—just like the reputation it carried in the business world. She paused for a brief moment, adjusting the strap of her handbag, smoothing down a wrinkle in her slate-gray blazer. Then she inhaled deeply and stepped forward through the automatic doors, her heels clicking confidently on polished marble floors.
This was a defining phase. The partnership with Skylar Corporation and Mondiego Empire had reached a pivotal point—final blueprint approvals, budgeting alignment, and the first wave of groundbreaking preparations for the new logistics hub. The project would change the face of Hillwood City’s industrial belt, and Selene had no intention of letting a single detail fall out of line. Her days had been a blur of long hours, construction updates, and relentless cross-departmental negotiations. It was exhausting—and exhilarating.
She greeted the receptionist with a quick nod. “Mr. Skylar is waiting for you in the West Conference Room,” the executive assistant said promptly, already rising to escort her.
“No need,” Selene said with a small smile. “I know the way.” as she was already been there few times together with her brother kian. 
The corridor she walked through was flooded with natural light. Minimalist glass partitions separated the offices. The hum of quiet, efficient productivity filled the air. She passed by framed accolades on the walls—international recognitions, innovation awards, sustainability certifications. Everything in this place had a purpose, a weight, and she appreciated the intentionality.
When she entered the conference room, Clark Skylar a young and very rich bachelor was already there, sleeves rolled up on a crisp black dress shirt, standing over a scale model of the Hillwood logistics site. A tablet sat beside him, and a glass of mineral water remained untouched, gathering beads of condensation. He looked up and smiled—not too casually, not too stiffly. Just right.
“Selene Mondiego,” he greeted, gesturing to the chair beside him. “Always on time.”
“I make it a point,” she replied smoothly, taking her seat and sliding out a thick folder. “Especially when the budget sheet for a billion-dollar logistics facility is on the table.”
He chuckled, low and measured. “You’re all business today—just like your brother.”
“It’s a business day. And in our family, it’s always a business day,” she said evenly. Her tone was polite but clipped, her eyes already scanning the first set of revised plans. “Let’s finalize the architectural revisions before we get lost in corporate pleasantries.”
That made him laugh softly, but he didn’t argue. They leaned in.
For the next hour, they moved through the blueprints with the efficiency of two minds aligned. There was rhythm in their exchange—quick, structured, and effective. They debated angles, adjusted material specs, recalculated site access logistics. Selene respected Clark’s sharpness; he didn’t get distracted by hypotheticals or fluff. Unlike Sebastian, Clark made firm decisions and took ownership of them. There was no room for second-guessing, and no expectation that she’d read between the lines.
By the time they reached the last schematic, the construction phases had been finalized. Budget allocations were refined down to decimal points. Selene leaned back slightly, stretching her spine, while Clark folded his hands over his stomach and observed her.
“You know,” he said after a pause, “most people try to impress us with sugarcoated projections and over-polished slideshows. You don’t do that. You just give us the facts.”
Selene offered a faint, almost amused smile. “That’s because I don’t need to impress you. I just need to deliver.”
Clark nodded, visibly pleased. “And that’s why this project will succeed.”
She took that as her cue to stand. “I’ll have my office send the signed revision package by the end of the day. Let’s aim to schedule the next roundtable before the weekend.”
“Done,” he said, rising as well. “Let me walk you out.”
She declined politely, exiting on her own terms as always.
Outside, the sunlight had dimmed slightly, casting long shadows along the plaza. Her phone buzzed as she stepped into the open air. A message from Eliane, back at the Artistica site, flashed across the screen.
> Site update: Roof installation ahead of schedule. Minor hiccup in electrical wiring. Will send report tonight.


Selene paused at the edge of the curb and typed a quick response:
> Good call on bringing in the electrical consultants. Greenlight any additional support you need. Great progress.


Then, almost out of habit, she flicked open her inbox. Three unread messages.
One from her legal team about a clause in the East City build contract.
One from East City’s zoning office with revised permit drafts.
And one—from Sebastian.
Her thumb hovered for only a moment.
She didn’t open it.
Instead, she calmly archived it and locked her phone.
There was a time—too long ago now—when his messages had sent her pulse racing. A name on the screen that once meant anticipation and hope. But that time had passed. Whatever Sebastian had to say, it no longer held power over her. Their professional relationship was transactional now, reduced to dry reports and scheduled progress meetings. No more blurred lines. No more second chances.
She had drawn that boundary—and she would keep it.
Back at her temporary residence in Hillwood City, a sleek apartment overlooking the skyline, Selene made herself a cup of jasmine tea and settled by the wide window. The sun dipped low, casting the city in golden hues, while the bustle below carried on—people chasing time, chasing targets, chasing purpose. 
She watched in silence, cradling the warm cup in both hands, allowing herself a rare moment of stillness.
She remembered the younger version of herself—the one who sat in tiny cafés waiting for texts that never came, who checked her phone before every meeting, hoping. That girl was gone now. In her place stood a woman leading two of the most ambitious infrastructure projects in the country, negotiating with CEOs and cutting through boardroom noise with clarity and strength. 
She had no regrets—only lessons.
And tomorrow, the cycle would begin again. Another meeting. Another negotiation. Another blueprint to revise. Another wall to rise under her direction.