The Heiress Who Married Her Enemy

chapter 3

**IRINA'S POV**

Leather chairs and a long mahogany table adorned the executive meeting suite, and seated on them were men and women dressed in immaculate suits. They were the Board of Directors—and this was the first time I was meeting them.

I stepped in with a flourish I didn’t know I possessed beforehand. Beside me, Mr. Brown, my parents’ lawyer, adjusted his glasses and set a thick leather folder on the table as we sat down; I took my seat at the head of the table. Inside lay every document proving I was the rightful heiress of the company. My pulse raced as I straightened.

They needed to see a woman who belonged here, not a girl who her parents never showed the world.

The lawyer had assured me that Bella wouldn’t go scot-free with the documents she made me sign, so I was rest assured.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Bella’s charismatic voice came as she entered. She didn’t even bother with greetings, she just glided to the other side of the head of the table and sat there as though it were her throne. “I hope what we’re here to do isn’t a waste of our time,” she exhaled sweetly.

The flicker of annoyance in some of the board members wasn’t lost. She must have fed them lies about me. Today, I intended to make it clear that she was all wrong.

Mr. Brown cleared his throat noisily. “Ladies and gentlemen, as the known legal representative to the Jerkins estate, I hereby represent Irina Jerkins as the daughter of James and Isabelle Jerkins, the founder of this company and many others. She comes with the full rights of inheritance.”

An uncomfortable murmur ran through the room. Eyes darted to me, some were doubtful, some were skeptical, some were even harsh. Above all, Bella’s laugh rang loudest.

“So, why is she here now?” She asked coldly. “To take over the company? She knows nothing. I have kept this place afloat while she was… I don’t know, spending the money?”

Anger rose in me as I clenched my hands. The audacity she had!

“You kept what afloat? I read the quarterly reports; the margins slipped drastically. The company hadn’t moved forward, it only lingered under your control like a body breathing but not living.”

One of the directors raised a brow. His nameplate read ‘Edward’. “And how do you intend to do it differently, Ms. Jerkins?”

Here we go.

“Diversity,” I stated. “I intend to expand this company beyond the outdated models that stripped us of the declining markets. I intend to invest in researching market demands and developing on that, because without innovation, we’d be nothing but ‘once existed’ five years from now.”

Bella’s smile had faded by now, though she recovered immediately. “Well, you use the big words. Anyone can read reports, research, and say things you just said, but…” She tilted her head. “Do you even understand the logistics of supply chains? Or how to negotiate with international partners interested in our golds and diamonds?”

My voice was steady as I replied. “I also know that last year, you cut ties with a high-ranking supplier without securing a replacement, which cost us millions. I know the new contract you’re so proud of with South Korea has more issues that would bleed money out of us than it would give us. I know my parents’ strategy for this company to actually grow and expand—not the vain ideas you’ve been pushing to fill your pockets.”

Gasps broke out. Bella’s eyes widened before narrowing in fury.

Mr. Brown slid the signed papers forward. “These are the documents confirming Ms. Jerkins and the ownership rights. There are no legal disputes; she is the heiress.”

The members studied the pages, murmuring, nodding in affirmation. A few looked up at me with something new in their eyes; whether it was respect, caution, or acknowledgement, I wasn’t sure.

While my eyes traced the suite, they landed on the far end of the table. A man leaned back quietly. I hadn’t noticed him earlier. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his dark hair swept back. His eyes were hidden behind the dark shades he had on. But what stole my breath wasn’t his unnoticeable presence, but the glint of silver against his chest.

A pendant that had slipped out of his shirt.

A half-broken apple.

My fingers twitched. It was identical to the one I wore.

Of course, the man caught me staring. He removed his glasses and stared intently at me. I had never seen him before. He wasn’t the type to actually get unnoticed for a long time when he was in a room.

Yet, he wore the other half of my pendant.

I forced my attention back to the table. I had to focus on what was happening around me.

“Ms. Jerkins,” another director with the nameplate ‘Sarah’ spoke. “You should realize leadership requires ideas, it requires resilience. You have to convince us you have that.”

My throat went dry, but I swallowed hard. “You ask me about resilience?” I echoed. “My parents were killed fifteen years ago, and I’ve lived away from the glitz and glam since I was born. If I didn’t have resilience, I wouldn’t be here today.”

The room fell into a heavy silence until I felt the room had shifted, maybe a little in my favour.

Bella’s face was pale with rage. She opened her mouth, but the mysterious man with the shades stood, his chair scraping back. All eyes turned to him.

“I think,” he said, his voice deep and husky, “this company just got interesting again.”

Bella blinked. “What—?”

He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I am Eric Rowlings, the CEO of Rowlings Gold Company. For now, consider me… an observer. This is my first meeting here, just like Ms. Jerkins.”

His gaze slid over me, lingering just long enough to send shivers racing down my spine. The necklace gleamed under the light, charging me with questions I wanted to demand.

The meeting adjourned not long after; the board members left and Bella stormed out. Mr. Brown gave me a reassuring pat on my shoulder before leaving me in the corridor.

Alone, my mind went to the necklace.

How did he get the pendant?

Later, in the privacy of my new apartment, I sat with my laptop as I traced the necklace again. It wasn’t ordinary. It was custom made in Italy, by a jeweler who prided himself on those ‘one-of-a-kind-creations.’ He wasn’t even ready to give out confidential information about the owners. I hadn’t pressed it because I had not started my investigation properly.

That was ten years ago.

Could it be that the jeweler lied about the one-of-a-kind-creations thing?

Or that man, who had the other half of the pendant found at my parents’ wrecked car, knew something I didn’t know?