CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER 99 THIS DESIGN IS UNACCEPTABLE

Serena’s POV

I felt my eyebrow twitch as Holly’s gaze made my skin crawl.

There was something unsettling in the way she was looking at Julian and me, like she’d caught us in some scandalous act rather than discussing fabric swatches.

"Did you need something?" I asked coolly, one hand instinctively moving to my baby bump.

"Mrs. Quinn, I was just wondering if the first phase designs are ready? Mr. Will is quite anxious for an update," she said, her tone sugary yet somehow sharp.

I frowned. "The deadline isn’t for another week. Did Mr. Will specifically request this update today?"

"Absolutely. Let’s meet in the conference room in twenty minutes, shall we? I need to review everything before sending it to Mr. Will."

With that, Holly turned and strutted out of my office without waiting for a response.

Julian let out a low whistle once the door closed. "Who the hell was that? Talk about zero manners."

He’d been in Washington for a few days and had completely missed Holly’s dramatic entrance into our studio life.

"Just the client’s self-important gatekeeper," I sighed, gathering my sketches. "She’s got quite the attitude, but whatever. We needed to discuss progress anyway. Can you tell the team to meet us in the conference room?"

Twenty minutes later, everyone had assembled around the large oak table. I took my seat at the head, flipping through the completed designs we had so far.

"Mrs. Quinn, let’s begin," Holly announced, scanning the room with what could only be described as royal condescension.

I tapped the table lightly, choosing to ignore her presumptuous tone. "Since we’re still finalizing several pieces, let’s discuss our design direction moving forward."

The designers took turns presenting their concepts. Holly remained silent through each presentation, her face an unreadable mask. But when I pulled out my own designs, she suddenly cleared her throat loudly.

Everyone’s attention shifted toward her, and the atmosphere instantly tensed.

I continued my presentation without acknowledging her interruption, but halfway through my explanation of the centerpiece jewelry concept, Holly cut me off.

"This design approach completely contradicts what Mr. Will is looking for. You should scrap it and start over," she declared flatly.

The room fell silent. I could feel my pulse quicken as I took a measured breath.

"Holly, I need you to clarify something. Is this your personal opinion about my designs, or has Mr. Will actually expressed these concerns? Please be specific."

Holly smirked. "Does it matter? Mr. Will appointed me to oversee your work. If you don’t value my input, perhaps there’s no point in my being here at all?"

She was using Mr. Will’s name to throw her weight around, essentially questioning Dreamland Studio’s competence.

"Miss Holly, whatever design courses you took are clearly ancient history," Celeste snapped from across the table. "Mrs. Quinn’s designs are priceless. She’s personally creating pieces for this collection, and you have the audacity to dismiss her work?"

My designers had reached their breaking point with Holly’s constant needling.

Holly slammed her palm on the table and stood up, face flushing. "Why shouldn’t I question it? I represent the client, and you should be modifying according to the client’s wishes! This design is unacceptable—do it again!"

"You’re deliberately causing problems! I’ve had enough of your crap!" Maya shouted, pushing up her sleeves like she was ready to leap across the table.

I exhaled slowly, reminding myself that getting angry while pregnant wasn’t good for me or the baby.

"Everyone, please calm down. If there are concerns about the design concept, I can make adjustments."

Holly’s expression turned smugger. "Not adjustments—this entire concept is unacceptable. Start from scratch."

"I swear to God, I will rip that smirk off your face," Maya growled, only held back by two other designers.

If this turned physical, we’d lose the contract for sure. All our hard work would be wasted. I could see the fury in my team’s eyes, but they were restraining themselves for the sake of the project.

Holly’s smirk grew even more pronounced, as if she could see our hesitation and was emboldened by it.

"Mrs. Quinn, what’s it going to be? Will you redesign completely, or should I report your refusal to Mr. Will?"

I looked up, meeting her eyes directly. This clearly wasn’t a professional discussion about design work—it was a deliberate power play. If I kept appeasing her, the entire collaboration would become impossible.

I needed to think not just of myself but of my team. I wouldn’t let them do thankless work for someone who wouldn’t appreciate it.

"Holly, I understand your position, but I’ll need to discuss this directly with Mr. Will," I stated firmly as I stood up, my patience exhausted.

"And let me clarify something—you’re Mr. Will’s executive assistant, not his creative director. You don’t have the authority to reject my designs."

I straightened my shoulders, speaking with quiet authority. "You can pack your things and leave the studio. I’ll explain the situation to Mr. Will myself."

Holly’s jaw dropped in shock. She clearly hadn’t expected me to dismiss her. She slammed her fist on the table again.

"You can’t make me leave! Unless you’re ready to lose this contract altogether!"

I gave her a level stare, completely unmoved by her threat.

"Whether this contract proceeds isn’t determined by an assistant. That’s between Mr. Will and myself."

I gathered my designs, tucking them under my arm. "If you continue to disrupt our workspace, I’ll have security escort you out."

Without another glance in her direction, I walked out of the conference room, my heart pounding but my resolve firm. I wouldn’t let anyone—destroy what I’d built.