That evening, I returned home later than usual.

The sun had already dipped low, leaving streaks of soft amber light across the narrow street outside my apartment. My hands were full — grocery bags dangling from each arm, a small box tucked between them that held the fabric I had ordered last week.

I sighed as I unlocked the door and pushed it open. The familiar scent of lavender and fresh detergent greeted me.

The apartment was quiet — the kind of quiet that always wrapped around me like a warm blanket after a long day.

I set the groceries on the counter, kicking off my shoes with relief. My back ached slightly, though my stomach was still flat — no one would guess yet, not even the maids back at Adrian’s mansion.

But I knew.

Every time I placed a hand on my belly, I could feel it — a subtle, precious awareness blooming beneath my heart.

I had gone out with the intention of buying groceries, but somehow, I had ended up in the maternity section of a nearby boutique. My fingers had trailed over soft gowns and loose cotton dresses. My stomach hadn’t formed an obvious bulge yet, but soon, it would. I wanted to be ready for that day.

When I stepped into the shower, the water was warm, soothing away the tension from my shoulders. I stood there for a long moment, closing my eyes and letting the day replay in my mind.

The presentation. The team’s reaction.

The look in everyone’s eyes — praise, admiration, trust.

It felt good. It felt real.

And then there was him.

The new guy.

The quiet confidence, the way his gaze lingered thoughtfully when I spoke, the respectful nod after my every answer. I smiled faintly as I remembered how natural it had felt to speak freely — to be heard without judgment, without fear.

“Thank God Vincent wasn’t around,” I mumbled to myself as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me. “Heard he’ll be gone for a week.”

The thought alone eased the heaviness inside my chest.

Maybe that was selfish. Maybe it wasn’t. But I was too tired to feel guilty tonight.

---

After drying my hair, I tied it up loosely and headed to the kitchen. Cooking had always been my way of grounding myself.

Soon, the warm aroma of seasoned chicken filled the air. I stirred the soup on the stove while rice steamed gently beside it. Then I made some vegetable dumplings and a small portion of stew — I always liked having options, even if I cooked for one.

After eating a little, I packed the rest in the fridge, cleaned up the counter, and walked to my small desk by the window.

The night breeze was cool. I powered on my tablet and stylus, opening the file I’d been working on — a new accessories line to complement the Rebirth Verena Collection I presented today.

Sketch after sketch flowed from my hand, every design blending soft femininity with modern strength.

As the screen glowed, I smiled faintly, remembering the faces in the boardroom earlier — the nods of approval, the look of genuine appreciation.

It had been so long since I’d felt that.

Maybe… I was finally finding my footing again.

The notification sound from my phone broke the quiet. Ding.

I reached for it.

“Hope you’ve eaten. Make sure to rest early. Always think about your health.”

The sender’s name glowed softly on the screen — Adrian.

My lips curved into a small smile. His words were simple, but somehow, they always carried warmth.

“Thank you,” I murmured as I typed back. “Make sure to rest too.”

I set my phone down and leaned back, exhaling softly.

---

Back at Adrian’s mansion, he stood by the window of his study, the dim light reflecting off his glasses as he read my message. For a long moment, he simply looked at it — a faint smile tugging at his lips before he finally pocketed the phone and stood.

Outside, the night was quiet.

Inside, something in him eased — a calm, subtle contentment that only her name seemed to bring.

---

The next morning, I was up before dawn.

The alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, but my body was already awake, as if the weight of responsibility refused to let me rest too long.

I prepared quickly — a simple beige blouse and black trousers today. I made a cup of tea, grabbed an apple, and double-checked my design portfolio.

The air was crisp when I stepped outside. I stopped a taxi and headed straight for the company.

As soon as I entered the lobby, a familiar voice called out, “ Ms Alice!”

It was Jenna,She rushed over, a neat stack of documents in her hands.

“You left these in the design studio last night,” she said, handing them to me with a grin. “And your favorite juice — pineapple, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it. You were incredible yesterday, by the way. Everyone’s still talking about your presentation.”

I smiled shyly. “Thank you. Let’s just hope the project stays on track.”

---

By midmorning, I was completely immersed in work. I finalized the accessory prototypes, adjusted fabric measurements, and rechecked client specifications.

At 10:30, I gathered everything I needed for a meeting with one of our high-profile clients — a fashion investor visiting from France.

The meeting was set for 10:50 at a nearby café, and I needed to get there fast.

But when I stepped outside the company building, the street was surprisingly empty. No taxis. Not one.

“Oh, God,” I groaned softly, checking my watch. “Not now…”

I was about to turn back, considering calling a car, when a sleek blue car pulled up to the curb, its horn giving a polite beep.

I turned, startled.

The window rolled down — and there he was.

The new guy.

He leaned slightly toward the open window, that same calm look in his eyes. “Need a ride?”

For a moment, I hesitated. “Oh—um, are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s on my way.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have much to do today,” he said simply.

After a small pause, I nodded, walking around to open the passenger door. “Thank you… I appreciate it.”

---

The car’s interior smelled faintly of cedar and leather. He drove smoothly, the hum of the engine blending with the soft jazz playing from the stereo.

“Do you always work this early?” he asked casually, glancing at me.

“I try to. It gives me a head start before the chaos begins.”

He smiled faintly. “Efficient. I can tell you’re the kind who doesn’t let anything slide.”

I laughed softly. “I suppose you could say that.”

We arrived at the café a few minutes later. The client was already waiting — an elegant older gentleman with sharp eyes and limited English vocabulary.

At first, the conversation felt awkward. I stumbled through the introductions, hoping the client would understand my gestures. But before I could even try another word, the man beside me — the “new guy” — stepped forward.

He greeted the client fluently in French.

My eyes widened in surprise.

Within seconds, the conversation flowed smoothly. They spoke easily — technical terms, design details, even casual jokes.

I sat quietly for a moment, amazed, then relaxed as I realized how much easier this was going to be.

No one had told me the client couldn’t communicate in English.

I thanked God silently for his presence.

When the meeting finally ended, I stood and turned to him, relief flooding through me. “Thank you so much, Mr…”

“James,” he supplied gently, offering a polite nod.

“Mr. James,” I repeated with a grateful smile. “You really saved me today.”

He chuckled. “I was happy to help.”

---

By the time we returned to the company, it was already break period. The hallways buzzed with chatter, and the faint aroma of coffee drifted through the air.

We decided to head to the cafeteria together. It felt easy — natural — like two colleagues sharing the afterglow of a successful meeting.

We found a table near the window, trays of food between us.

He laughed when I tried to pronounce a few French words I remembered from high school. “ Très bien, but you need to soften the R,” he said, grinning.

I tried again, exaggeratedly rolling the word, and we both burst into laughter.

It had been so long since I laughed like that — freely, without caution, without looking over my shoulder.

As we talked, I caught the faint sparkle of sunlight on his wristwatch, the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled. He had an ease about him, something Vincent never had — a patience that felt strangely comforting.

For a brief moment, I forgot everything else.

---

But across the cafeteria, standing by the glass doors, someone watched us.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved into a cruel, satisfied smirk.

Lillian.

She held up her phone, angling it perfectly before the camera clicked. Once. Twice.

She didn’t stay. She didn’t need to. She had what she came for.

As she walked away, her phone buzzed. She opened the message screen, typing quickly.

I'm just concerned about my sister,so you should know what your wife is up to, Vincent.

Seems like she’s found a new friend.

Attached were the pictures — me and James sitting together, laughing.

Her words dripped with feigned concern, but her smile was nothing but venom.

---

Thousands of miles away, in a private meeting room at the company’s overseas headquarters, Vincent sat at the head of the table, going through reports.

His assistant Noah handed him a file, waiting quietly.

.

Vincent’s phone buzzed. Once.

He frowned, picked it up, and opened the message.

The moment his eyes landed on the photos, his expression changed — calm composure snapping like thin glass.

Alice.

Laughing.

With another man.

He didn’t move for a long moment. His jaw tightened, and he set the phone down slowly, fingers pressing hard against the table.

Noah shifted nervously beside him. “Sir…?”

“Prepare my flight,” Vincent said quietly.

Noah blinked. “Sir, the merger report isn’t completed yet. The board—”

“Prepare. The. Flight.”

The tone left no room for argument.

“Yes, sir.”

As Noah hurried out, Vincent exhaled sharply, his hand closing into a fist. His gaze drifted back to the screen — to her smile — and something dark and furious twisted deep within him.

---

And somewhere, across the city, unaware of the storm about to come, I was still laughing softly at the cafeteria table, grateful for the simple kindness of the day.

Just for that moment — that peaceful, ordinary moment — I allowed myself to breathe.