The stale air of Mr.

  White’s office hung heavy with the scent of cheap cigars and ambition, an aroma Luna found instantly nauseating.

  His office, a monument to faux-success, was cluttered with framed "motivational" posters and dusty golf trophies.

  He himself, a man whose tailored suit couldn’t quite conceal the burgeoning paunch beneath, surveyed her with the same predatory gleam a cat might give a cornered mouse.

  His gaze raked over her from head to toe, lingering a moment too long on her simple, yet elegant, business attire.

  Luna felt the scrutiny like a physical touch, but her carefully constructed facade remained uncracked.

  Inside, though, a flicker of anxiety danced with the simmering rage she held barely in check.

  She had dressed down deliberately, hoping to appear less threatening, more… malleable.

  Clearly, it hadn’t worked.

  “So, Miss… Luna,” Mr.

  White began, his voice a smooth purr that grated against Luna’s nerves.

  He leaned back in his oversized leather chair, the cheap material creaking in protest.

  “Tell me again about this… revolutionary marketing strategy of yours.

  ”

  Luna swallowed, forcing a confident smile.

  She reiterated the broad strokes of her proposal, carefully omitting the most innovative, most valuable aspects.

  She'd learned her lesson in her past life – trust no one.

  Especially not men like Mr.

  White, whose eyes screamed opportunist.

  He peppered her with questions, seemingly innocuous, but designed to pry loose the details she so diligently guarded.

  He dangled promises of partnership, of mentorship, all the while avoiding any concrete commitment.

  He wanted her secrets.

  Her knowledge, hard-won in a life she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.

  And he wanted them for free.

  “Mr.

  White,” Luna said, her voice calm despite the turbulent emotions swirling within, “I’m happy to discuss the finer points of my strategy, but I believe a concrete agreement regarding profit sharing and intellectual property rights should be established first.

  ”

  A flicker of annoyance crossed his face.

  He clearly wasn’t used to being challenged.

  He chuckled, a sound devoid of humor.

  “My dear girl, you’re a newcomer to this game.

  You should be grateful for the opportunity to learn from someone with my experience.

  ”

  The condescending tone, the patronizing words… they stirred the embers of Luna’s fury.

  She’d heard it all before.

  This time, though, she wouldn’t be silenced.

  This time, she would play his game.

  “Of course, Mr.

  White,” Luna replied, her smile widening just a fraction.

  “I’m a quick study.

  ” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

  “And I’m eager to learn… everything.

  ”

  A gleam entered Mr.

  White's eyes.

  He thought he had her.

  He thought she was just another naive fool, ready to be exploited.

  He had no idea.

  "Now," Luna continued, her gaze unwavering, "about those profit margins..."

  “Now,” Luna continued, her gaze unwavering, “about those profit margins… I was thinking, perhaps a sixty-forty split in my favor would be… equitable, considering the sheer scope of the project.

  And, of course, I retain full ownership of the intellectual property.

  ”

  Mr.

  White choked on his own saliva.

  Sixty-forty?

  In *her* favor?

  The audacity!

  He opened his mouth to protest, to remind her of her place, this little ingenue trying to swim with the sharks.

  But before he could utter a word, Luna smoothly interrupted him.

  “Oh, and Mr.

  White,” she said, a sly smile playing on her lips.

  “I haven't even told you about the *real* game-changer.

  The one that will make this little venture look like… well, like selling seashells by the seashore.

  ”

  She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a barely audible murmur.

  "Imagine… personalized advertising, targeted with laser precision to individual consumer desires, using a proprietary algorithm I've developed…"

  Mr.

  White's eyes widened.

  He'd heard whispers of this kind of technology, but dismissed it as science fiction.

  If this girl actually possessed something like that… He licked his lips, greed battling with suspicion.

  "This… algorithm," he began, his voice strained.

  "It's… real?"

  Luna simply smiled, an enigmatic expression that revealed nothing and everything all at once.

  “Let’s just say… it would be a *very* valuable asset to any company.

  Especially one looking to… dominate the market.

  ”

  Mr.

  White shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  The creaking leather seemed to mock his indecision.

  Sixty-forty?

  Intellectual property rights?

  This girl was playing hardball.

  Yet, the potential rewards… they were too tempting to ignore.

  His face became a mask of warring emotions: greed, suspicion, and a grudging respect.

  He was being played, and he knew it.

  “I… I need time to consider this,” he stammered, the bluster gone from his voice.

  Luna rose gracefully to her feet.

  “Of course, Mr.

  White.

  Take all the time you need.

  ” Her smile, though polite, held a hint of triumph.

  “But don’t take too long.

  Opportunities like this… they tend to vanish quickly.

  ”

  As Luna left Mr.

  White's office, a sense of unease prickled her skin.

  Something felt off.

  Stepping out into the bustling hallway, she noticed hushed whispers and sideways glances.

  Then, she saw it – a printout left carelessly on a nearby table, a blog post with a cleverly doctored photo of her, alongside a headline that made her blood run cold: “Rising Star or Scam Artist?

  Luna’s Shady Past Revealed.

  ” The article, filled with half-truths and outright lies, painted a picture of a ruthless social climber, willing to do anything to reach the top.

  It was subtle, insidious, and perfectly designed to poison her reputation before it even had a chance to blossom.

  The whispers intensified.

  The sideways glances turned into open stares.

  Luna felt a surge of anger, hot and potent.

  She knew exactly who was behind this.

  The game had just begun, and someone was already trying to change the rules.

  Clenching her jaw, Luna walked towards the elevator, her eyes scanning the crowd.

  She needed information.

  And she knew just where to find it.

  Her phone buzzed.

  An unknown number.

  "Hello?" she answered, her voice ice-cold.

  "Looking for something, sweetheart?" a distorted voice hissed from the other end.

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  As Luna parried Mr.

  White's probing questions, a familiar figure entered the opulent lobby of the White Corporation building.

  Leo, his tailored suit impeccably fitted, strode through the space with an air of effortless command.

  His phone pressed to his ear, he issued crisp, decisive instructions to someone on the other end.

  He paused momentarily, his gaze sweeping the room, as if searching for something—or someone.

  His eyes, sharp and intelligent, briefly landed on Luna’s retreating figure disappearing into Mr.

  White’s office.

  A flicker of recognition, followed by a frown, creased his brow.

  He remembered their encounter at the gala, the unsettling feeling she’d evoked.

  He hadn't been able to shake the nagging suspicion that she was hiding something.

  Inside Mr.

  White’s office, Luna skillfully deflected the older man’s attempts to manipulate her.

  She presented a carefully curated version of her past, hinting at hardship and resilience, but revealing nothing of substance.

  Mr.

  White, blinded by greed and his own perceived superiority, lapped it up.

  He saw not a shrewd businesswoman, but a vulnerable opportunity.

  Later, as Luna exited the building, a sleek black car pulled up beside her.

  The tinted window lowered, revealing Sophia, draped in designer clothes and an air of smug satisfaction.

  Sophia, once Luna's supposed best friend, had played a significant role in her downfall in her past life.

  The sight of her sent a jolt of icy rage through Luna’s veins.

  “Luna, darling!

  Fancy seeing you here,” Sophia drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

  “Still slumming it, I see?

  ” She gestured dismissively at the modest business attire Luna wore.

  “Trying to claw your way back into the social circle, are we?

  ”

  Luna met her gaze, a cool smile playing on her lips.

  “Something like that, Sophia.

  One has to start somewhere, after all.

  ”

  Sophia’s smile faltered.

  There was something different about Luna, a newfound confidence that unnerved her.

  “Don’t get any ideas above your station, darling,” she hissed, her mask of politeness slipping.

  “Some things are better left forgotten.

  ” The window whirred closed, and the car sped away, leaving Luna standing on the sidewalk, a storm brewing in her eyes.

  Sophia's thinly veiled threat only solidified Luna’s resolve.

  She wouldn’t be intimidated.

  She would rise again, stronger and more determined than ever.

  Unseen, from across the street, Leo watched the exchange from his car.

  He’d instructed his driver to wait, a strange compulsion drawing him to observe Luna.

  He couldn’t explain his interest, this unsettling mix of curiosity and suspicion.

  He saw the encounter with Sophia, the subtle shift in Luna's demeanor, the flash of steel in her eyes.

  He felt a prickle of unease, a sense that he was witnessing something significant, something dangerous.

  He narrowed his eyes, a plan forming in his mind.

  He needed to understand this woman, to unravel the mystery surrounding her.

  He knew, with a chilling certainty, that their paths were destined to cross again.

  And when they did, he would be ready.

  The pristine glass doors of the White Corporation building reflected Luna’s determined gaze.

  Inside, the air thrummed with the silent energy of ambition and competition.

  Luna, dressed in a simple yet elegant business suit, clutched her proposal folder tighter, a flicker of nervousness dancing in her eyes.

  She was here to pitch a marketing strategy, a crucial first step in rebuilding her life and her fortune.

  Mr.

  White, a portly man with a shrewd glint in his eyes, leaned back in his plush leather chair, steepling his fingers.

  He regarded Luna with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.

  "Ms. Davies," he began, his voice smooth as silk, "your proposal is…ambitious, especially considering your… limited experience." He emphasized the last two words, a thinly veiled jab at her recent re-emergence into the business world after her family's downfall.

  Luna maintained a calm demeanor, her reborn self providing a steel core beneath her composed exterior.

  "Mr. White," she responded, her voice steady and confident, "my past experiences, though different, have equipped me with a unique understanding of the market. This proposal isn't based on theory; it's built on insight."

  He raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.

  "Insight? Enlighten me."

  As Luna began to explain her strategy, the door to the office swung open and Sophia, radiating an aura of expensive perfume and barely-concealed disdain, entered.

  "Richard, darling," she purred, ignoring Luna completely, "I simply had to show you the latest…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed Luna, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arching in surprise.

  "Luna? What are *you* doing here?" The question dripped with condescending sweetness.

  Luna met her gaze directly.

  "Working, Sophia. Just like you, presumably."

  Sophia's smile faltered.

  She had relished Luna's downfall, and seeing her back in the game, even in this relatively humble setting, irked her.

  "Working?" she scoffed, turning back to Mr.

  White.

  "Richard, you must be careful. There are a lot of… opportunists around these days.” The implication hung heavy in the air.

  Mr.

  White, ever the businessman, sensed an opportunity to exploit the situation.

  A flicker of calculation crossed his face.

  "Ms. Davies," he said, his tone now laced with subtle pressure, "perhaps you could provide us with some… references? Assurances that your… situation won't affect our potential partnership."

  Luna recognized the trap.

  Her past was a vulnerability he intended to exploit to leverage a better deal.

  Before she could respond, another figure appeared at the door.

  Leo, impeccably dressed and radiating an air of cool authority, leaned against the frame, his gaze fixed on Luna.

  A subtle smirk played on his lips.

  “Mr.

  White,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet yet laced with steel, “interesting meeting you have here.

  Ms.

  Davies, I wasn't aware you were consulting for White Corporation.

  Perhaps your…expertise extends beyond what I initially assumed.

  ”

  His words, seemingly innocuous, held a hidden edge, a hint of suspicion and challenge directed at Luna.

  He, too, doubted her.

  The room crackled with unspoken tension, leaving Luna caught in a web of doubt and schemes.