The lobby of S&Co hummed with the promise of a new day, but Sharon felt electric tension in her veins before she even set foot inside. Jia, chipper as ever after their sleepover, offered a sly wink as they walked through the glass doors. Ray, reliable and calm, already had coffee in hand, radiating team energy. Today, Sharon told herself, would be ordinary.
But a red-eyed, trembling employee intercepted her just steps from her office. "Ms. Sharma… there was a problem at the wedding last night."
Sharon's professional mask slipped just an inch. "What happened?"
Voice quavering, the girl stammered, "The bride slapped me. I stepped on her dress. It was an accident, but… she said I ruined everything. In front of everyone."
For a moment, Sharon was silent, her expression darkening. Jia's hand found the small of her back in silent support; Ray watched with narrowed eyes. Sid, lingering near the reception in the morning shuffle, caught the crackle of news and melted into the corridor shadows, unseen but hawk-eyed, heart hammering with anticipation and dread.
"Thank you for telling me," Sharon said to the girl, voice-controlled and low. But her jaw was tense, her eyes unmistakably fierce. "You did nothing wrong. Where's the rest of the team?"
"In the prep room. They're scared… the clients are threatening to withhold payment, maybe call the police."
Sharon's gaze sharpened. "No one lays a hand on my people—ever."
She turned to her team. "Jia, Ray. With me." Without another word, she strode to her office, phone already to her ear, calling the on-site coordinator. "Cancel the event. Immediately."
Jia blinked; Ray just nodded, resolute.
Sid let out a slow breath behind a pillar, tension knotting his stomach. Watching Sharon now a force of nature, unflinching, he felt awe but also a curious ache. Was this the girl he once watched hesitate at every turn? How much had it cost her to become this unbreakable?
They arrived at the venue to chaos, voices raised, staff scattered, the bride's family berating anyone within reach. The bride, resplendent in white and fury, demanded attention. Sharon cut through the noise with a single, "Enough."
All eyes snapped to her. Even Sid, standing near an ornamental pillar, felt the authority in Sharon's voice ripple through the hall.
"I understand there was an incident," Sharon stated, voice level but icy. "A member of my staff was assaulted. As of now, this event is canceled. No one at S&Co will tolerate violence or disrespect." Her gaze touched the bride, then her parents, each shrinking beneath her steady stare.
Murmurs rose: shock, denial, complaints about the contract. Sharon's attention shifted to the dress. "Jia?" she said quietly.
Jia, face flushed with equal parts hurt and resolve, nodded. "That's one of mine."
"Take it back."
With that, Sharon turned to the bride. "Since respect is not part of your ceremony, neither is this dress." In one smooth motion, she took the gown from Jia and, ignoring gasps, set a small flame from her lighter to the delicate hem. The silk caught quickly, petals curling, sequins winking away to nothing as blackened fabric dropped to the tiled floor.
The room was stunned silent.
"If you harm one of us, you lose all of us," Sharon said calmly. "Anyone here dare to cross that line again?"
The bride's family rallied, voices high, but now tinged with apology. "Please, ma'am, let's not ruin the wedding! Our daughter's day." The matriarch's voice quivered. "She's a fan of Jia's work. Please apologize for the misunderstanding, make this right."
Sharon's stare was steel. "The only apology owed here is from you, to my staff, in front of everyone." She motioned for the employee to join her, keeping her close and upright.
The family hesitated, then bowed low, offering a formal apology to both Sharon and her employee. But when they pressed for the employee to apologize for "her clumsiness," Sharon cut them off.
"She's not apologizing. She was doing her job with care. If that's a problem, take it up with me, and I assure you, you'll lose."
With that, Sharon turned on her heel, team in tow. Jia followed, still holding the scorched remnant of her design, eyes shining with both sorrow and pride.
Sid waited outside, hidden. His chest ached as he watched Sharon move a leader forged from years of storms. Was this power the result of heartbreak, necessity, or both? Was the gentle, uncertain Sharon he loved still beneath that armor?
Back at S&Co, Sharon gathered her staff, voice clipped, eyes fierce, heart pounding.
"We endure pressure, not humiliation," Sharon said. "No event, no client, is more important than your integrity. If you can't stand for yourselves, you weaken all of us. We are not here to bow; we run this industry because we do not back down."
Her words were stern but honest, resentment gone, replaced by vigilant care for the people before her. She turned to the shaken employee. "You did nothing wrong. Next time, remember your worth. This is a place for the strong."
As the team dispersed, Sharon leaned against her office door, exhaustion breaking through her composure.
Sid lingered just out of sight, the image of Sharon righteous, exhausted, and relentless, burned into his chest. Admiration warred with fear:
What was the cost for a heart to grow this fierce? Had loving and losing him turned her to steel? Was he worthy of this new Sharon, or had he lost her forever to her own unyielding strength?
As the sun dipped, shadows stretched behind the S&Co sign, reminding Sharon and Sid both: healing sometimes forges edges so sharp, they can't help but cut.