Morning found before my alarm did—warmth against my shoulder, soft breath on my skin, and fingers gently brushing through my hair like she was morizing every strand.
"Wake up, husband..." Val whispered, her voice still wrapped in sleep but sohow sweeter because of it.
I blinked my eyes open, and the first thing I saw was her smile—small, soft, and exactly the kind that made early mornings feel less like a responsibility and more like a reward. She pressed a light kiss to my cheek, then another just a little closer to my lips.
"It’s D-Day," she murmured.
I let out a breath that was half-groan, half-laugh. "Don’t remind ."
She kissed again—this ti fully on the lips, a warm encouragent rather than anything heated—and pulled back with a determined little nod. "Unfortunately for you, I’m reminding you. Up. You’ve got a contract to win."
She slid out of bed before I could argue, moving toward the wardrobe with that unhurried grace she had even when she was exhausted. The mory of last night flashed through my mind—her dead-tired posture, the blank stare she’d worn after a whole day of searching for answers about Lucien. But this morning... she was composed. Focused. Beautiful in that calm way that sohow made calr too.
I pushed myself up. "You’re too awake for soone who slept at 11:30."
She shot a glance over her shoulder as she picked out one of my shirts.
> "And you’re too dramatic for soone who almost slept in on an important day."
I stared. "I did not almost sleep in."
"You did," she said, completely confident. "If I hadn’t woken you, you’d still be face-down in the pillow, dreaming about spreadsheets."
Then she smirked—finally, the Val expression I always looked for.
She laid the clothes out for on the bed: crisp charcoal slacks, the light blue dress shirt that sohow "brings out your quiet nace," according to her, and the navy blazer she’d ironed two nights ago "just in case."
"You planned this, didn’t you?" I said.
She shrugged lightly. "I plan everything."
She wasn’t wrong.
I brushed my teeth, showered, and got dressed while she applied a soft touch of makeup in front of the vanity. At so point, she humd under her breath—one of those soothing, wordless lodies she only did in the mornings when she was feeling a tiny bit optimistic.
When I was done, I stepped behind her, adjusting my watch. "You’re fully dressed too."
"Of course I am," she replied, eting my eyes in the mirror. Her outfit was simple—cream blouse, tailored black trousers, and her hair pinned neatly back. She looked like a woman ready to face an empire. "We both have places to be before the Presentation."
"Moreau Dynamics?" I asked.
She nodded, fastening her earring. "Dad wants an update... or as close to an update as I can give without telling him the entire disaster."
"And Lucien?" I asked quietly.
Her hands stilled for one second. "Not today. Today I don’t have the ntal capacity to chase him. After the presentation, maybe."
"Val..." I murmured, reaching and gently resting a hand on her shoulder.
She covered my hand with hers, squeezed, and turned to face fully. "Hey. Focus on your win today, okay? I’ll handle my end."
"You sure?"
She leaned up on her toes, kissed —short, sweet, grounding.
> "I’m sure. And... you need to get going. Hale is probably pacing."
"He should pace," I muttered, earning myself another soft smile.
She stepped back, looked over from head to toe, and her face broke into a proud, almost playful grin. "Go get that contract, husband."
I inhaled deeply. "Yes, ma’am."
She followed downstairs, Duchess padding sleepily along behind her. Aline peeked from the kitchen with her usual warm greeting, wishing us both good luck like she already knew today held weight.
At the front door, Val handed my car keys, then smoothed my lapel like it wasn’t already perfect.
"You’re ready?" she murmured.
"With you prepping ? Always."
She rolled her eyes lightly but her smile gave her away. "Drive safe."
"You too."
We walked out together into the clear morning, the air cool but carrying that subtle Friday buzz—the world feeling like it was shifting forward all at once.
We reached my car first. She stopped with , fingers brushing lightly against my sleeve before she stepped away toward her own car.
"Call when you get to Gray & Milton," she said.
"And you when you get to the office."
She nodded, then hesitated. For a split second, she looked like she wanted to say sothing else—sothing heavier. But she swallowed it, straightened, and gave one last confident nod.
> "You’ve got this, Kai."
"And you’ve got ," I replied.
Her lips curved again—soft, warm, proud. "Always."
We both got into our cars. She started hers first, pulling out slowly with one last wave. I watched her taillights disappear past the gate before starting mine.
As I drove toward Gray & Milton, the roads looked familiar yet charged—like the day itself had its shoulders squared. This presentation was supposed to be the highlight of the quarter, the one that could change everything for at G&M. Normally, I would have been running on adrenaline.
But all I thought about was her driving toward Moreau Dynamics, carrying the weight of her father’s company alone.
And for the first ti since this whole project began, I wished the day would move slower—not because I wasn’t ready, but because I wanted to stay with her a little longer before everything shifted again.
---
Walking into Gray & Milton that morning felt different—like the air itself knew sothing big was about to happen. The lobby was buzzing with employees moving faster than usual, voices low, the kind of hush that follows expectation.
I took the elevator up to the twelfth floor, straightened my tie once, twice—okay, maybe three tis—and stepped into the project wing.
Instantly, I could tell the team was in pre-battle mode.
Ji-ho was perched on the edge of his desk with his tablet, muttering sothing in Korean that sounded suspiciously like a pep talk to himself. Noah was typing quietly, analytical as always, expression unreadable. Tasha stood near the window, scrolling through a digital folder, her foot tapping—a sign only people close to her ever caught. And Gabriel, our Contracts Manager, was already halfway through his coffee, looking like he’d been awake since the previous century.
Then Hale walked out of his office.
That alone told everything. Richard Hale didn’t leave his office before 9:30am unless sothing was serious.
He gave the room a once-over. "Morning, everyone."
"Morning, sir," a small chorus echoed.
His gaze landed on . "Tanaka. Everything set on your end?"
"As set as it can be," I said.
Ji-ho perked up from his desk. "Translation: he checked the numbers ten tis but still wants to check an eleventh."
I scoffed. "Please. It was twelve."
That actually got a laugh—quiet, but real. Even Noah’s lips twitched.
Tasha crossed her arms, eyes warming as she looked at . "How’s Val taking everything? Your wife usually handles pressure like she was born for it."
The question was gentle—too gentle.
I shrugged a shoulder. "She’s... managing."
Tasha nodded without pushing. She tended to probe, especially with . But today was too important for distractions.
Hale clapped once, calling us together. "We leave in fifteen. I want everyone in the van by then."
Gabriel raised a hand lazily. "Is this the part where you give the ’don’t embarrass ’ speech?"
Hale shot him a dry look. "You know too well."
Ji-ho mumbled, "You said the exact sa thing during Pre-Proposal."
"And you didn’t embarrass then," Hale replied. "Let’s keep the streak going."
The team chuckled again, tension easing just enough.
I walked to my desk to grab the final folder—mostly symbolic at this point. Everything was digital, but holding sothing physical made the day feel more... real.
As I slid the last docunt into place, Tasha drifted over.
"You look unusually calm," she said quietly.
"Do I?"
She humd. "You do. Like you’ve made peace with whatever happens today."
I paused... then gave her the simplest truth. "I did. This one matters... but it’s not the only thing that does."
Sothing flickered in her eyes—understanding, maybe. Or sothing close to regret. But she only nodded and stepped back.
"Good. Just... don’t disappear after we win," she added with a crooked smile. "Hale promised us celebratory dinner."
Before I could respond, Hale called out, "Team! Let’s move!"
We grabbed our things and filed out.
---
The Ride to Holloway Avenue
The van slled like new leather and soone’s overly enthusiastic cologne—Ji-ho’s, judging by how he imdiately pretended to admire the ceiling when everyone turned to stare at him.
For the Pre-Proposal Conference, we’d moved in a full convoy—black SUVs, security, departntal staff—all of them pairing up in official cars to look coordinated and put-together.
But today was the Final Presentations.
This ti, the core team ditched the theatrics and piled into a single van so we could run through last-minute checks together. Slides, data points, handoff cues—everything had to be airtight. Our own cars were left behind for the mont, while our larger convoy followed in formation behind the van, a reminder that even when we traveled "casual," we never traveled small.
I took a seat toward the back. Hale and Gabriel sat up front discussing schedule, voice low. Ji-ho and Noah were across from each other—Noah scrolling through a spreadsheet, Ji-ho trying to look over his shoulder even though he couldn’t understand half the numbers.
Tasha slid into the seat beside .
"Don’t start stressing now," she muttered.
"I’m not stressing."
"You tapped your foot five tis before answering. That’s your tell."
I stared at her. "...Why do you know that?"
She smiled lightly. "Because you’re predictable."
I scoffed. "I’m efficient."
"Predictably efficient," she corrected.
The drive took almost forty minutes, traffic thick as always on a Friday morning. I watched the city roll by through the window—skyscrapers, morning sun catching on glass, the slow pulse of the City waking up.
And beneath all that movent, I could feel it: anticipation. Nerves. Months of work drawing to a single point.
I wasn’t sure if we would win. I wasn’t sure how Val’s day would go. I wasn’t sure what the next weeks would look like for either of us.
But I knew one thing for certain:
Today needed to go right.
For my team.
For my future.
For her.
As Holloway Avenue finally ca into view—the familiar tall building, the conference banners, the line of black cars pulling in—I felt sothing settle in my chest.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Focus.
Hale glanced back at us as the van slowed. "Alright, team. This is it."
Tasha sat up straighter. Ji-ho pointed dramatically at the glass doors like we were entering a gladiator arena. Gabriel took the final sip of his coffee like a man preparing for war. Noah simply closed his tablet.
And ?
I exhaled once, steady.
We pulled up to the curb.
The doors opened.
And...we’d arrived.
---
To be continued...
Reviews
All reviews (0)