He had just reached the door.
His hand on the handle.
But then he stopped.
A slow breath.
And without turning around, he spoke—
"Doesn't matter."
A pause.
Then he turned back, his gaze locking onto Anamarija.
"You're still my fiancée."
The room went still again.
For a split second—
No one moved.
Then—
Anamarija stepped forward.
Fast.
Before anyone could react, her hand shot up—
Grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him slightly down to her level.
Gasps echoed softly around the office.
Her eyes—
Sharp.
Burning.
"I am not your doll," she said, her voice low but filled with controlled anger, "that you can do whatever you want with."
Every word landed like a strike.
For a moment, even he didn't react.
Caught off guard.
Then—
She let go.
Just as suddenly as she had grabbed him.
He stumbled half a step back, adjusting his shirt, his expression darkening.
Before he could say anything—
"Chak."
Kit's voice cut in.
Everyone turned.
He was standing there, a tablet in his hand, his eyes quickly scanning the torn pieces of the contract on the floor.
Then he looked up.
Straight at Chak.
"I know how to break it."
Silence.
Chak's gaze sharpened immediately.
"How?" he asked.
Kit lifted the tablet slightly.
"There was a clause written at the edge of the contract," he said. "Easy to miss."
A beat.
"Marriage to another person… out of love."
The words hung in the air.
Heavy.
And then—
Everything shifted.
Anamarija froze for a second.
Then—
Her expression changed instantly.
Anger.
Real anger.
"What?!" she snapped—
And suddenly switched to Slovene, her words coming out fast, sharp, completely unfiltered.
"Nimate nobene pravice odločat o mojem življenju! Kakšna poroka?! Ste vsi nori ali kaj?!"
No one in the room understood.
Not a single word.
But they didn't need to.
The tone alone—
Was enough.
Vikran instinctively stepped closer to Chak, his posture tense now.
There was something about the way she was speaking—
The intensity.
The fire.
It caught him off guard.
He leaned slightly toward Chak, lowering his voice.
"Chak…" he muttered quietly.
A pause.
"Never make her angry like that." Chak said.
Vikran didn't respond. Just a single nod.
His eyes were still on Anamarija.
Watching her.
Carefully.
Like he was seeing a different side of her—
One that didn't back down.
One that wouldn't be controlled.
And somehow—
That made everything even more dangerous.
A tense silence still lingered in the room.
Anamarija's words in Slovene echoed faintly in everyone's minds, even if they didn't understand them.
Phalin's brother exhaled slowly.
Then—
A smirk.
"If you're so desperate to get out of this…" he said casually, adjusting his sleeve, "there is another option."
No one liked that tone.
Not even a little.
Anamarija's eyes narrowed.
"What option?" she asked coldly.
He looked straight at her.
"One night," he said.
A beat.
"With me."
Silence.
And then—
Everything exploded.
"What the hell did you just say?" Vikran snapped, stepping forward instantly.
Chak moved at the same time.
So did me.
All three of us closed the distance in a second, their expressions dark, furious.
"You don't get to talk to her like that," Chak said sharply.
"Have you lost your mind?" I added, his voice filled with disbelief.
"Do you think she's that type of girl? "
Vikran added
Chak presence—
Was terrifying.
"You should be very careful with your next words," he said quietly.
But before any of us could do anything—
Anamarija moved.
Fast.
Her fist connected with his face in a clean, sharp hit.
The sound echoed through the room.
Gasps.
He stumbled back, completely caught off guard.
She didn't stop.
"Never," she said, her voice shaking with anger but loud, clear, undeniable.
"Never."
A step closer.
"Not even if you were the last man on this planet."
Her eyes burned into his.
"Get out," she snapped.
A beat.
"Get out of my life. And don't ever let me see you again."
For a moment—
No one moved.
He slowly straightened, touching his lip, a faint trace of blood there.
And then—
He laughed.
Low.
Mocking.
"I don't even know who could ever love you," he said coldly.
That—
Hit.
But before anything could escalate further—
The door opened.
Security.
Two guards stepped in immediately, moving straight toward him.
"Sir, you need to leave."
He didn't resist this time.
Just kept his eyes on Anamarija as they escorted him out.
Phalin lingered for a second longer.
Her gaze slid to Anamarija.
Cold.
Sharp.
"You'll regret this," she said quietly.
Then turned and followed him out.
The door closed.
And silence fell again.
Heavy.
Stunned.
Anamarija turned—
And froze slightly.
Chak.
Vikran.
Kit.
Me.
And just behind—
Her bodyguard, Suraphom.
All of them staring at her.
Shocked.
Processing what had just happened.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
Then Chak exhaled quietly.
"Let's go to the conference room," he said.
Calm.
Controlled.
But there was something underneath it.
Something serious.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
The silence lingered for a moment longer.
Then—
"Niran."
Non's voice was softer this time.
He stepped closer, holding out a bottle of water toward Anamarija.
"Here," he said gently.
Anamarija blinked, a little surprised, then took it.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Before she could open it—
"Miss."
Suraphom's voice.
Calm. Respectful.
She turned toward him.
And froze.
In his hand—
A piece of dark chocolate.
Her eyes widened instantly.
For a second, all the tension, all the anger—
Paused.
"You—" she blinked. "You remembered?"
He gave a small nod.
She took it, still slightly stunned.
"…thank you."
Vikran looked between them, confused.
"How did you know?" he asked.
Suraphom glanced at him briefly, then back at Anamarija.
"I've been protecting her for eight years," he said calmly. "From a distance."
A pause.
"I've learned a lot about her."
His gaze softened just slightly.
"But I've never seen her like this before."
Silence followed his words.
Then—
Chak straightened.
"Kit," he said.
Kit immediately looked up.
"Call Taeng. I want him here. Now."
"Right away," Kit replied, already reaching for his phone.
Chak's gaze moved across the office.
"Amara. Niran. Pim. Non," he said firmly. "Conference room."
No one argued.
A few minutes later—
The conference room.
Everyone took their seats, the tension still lingering in the air.
Anamarija sat quietly for a moment.
Then looked at Chak.
"I'm sorry… about earlier," she said softly.
Chak didn't respond right away.
He just looked at her.
Then—
He stood up.
Walked over to her.
And without hesitation—
Pulled her into a hug.
It was firm.
Warm.
Grounding.
"You needed to let it out," he said quietly.
A pause.
"It's okay."
Something in her shoulders relaxed slightly.
Then he stepped back and returned to his seat.
Silence settled again.
Then—
"How are we going to fix this?" Chak asked, his tone serious.
Kit exhaled.
"I don't know," he admitted. "The clause is clear."
A pause.
"She has to marry someone she truly loves."
Anamarija let out a quiet sigh, leaning back slightly.
"Great," she muttered. "And where exactly am I supposed to find that person?"
Before anyone could answer—
A knock.
The door opened.
Taeng stepped in, glancing around the room.
"What's going on here?" he asked, walking in.
Without hesitation, he sat down next to Kit—
And pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Kit blinked, then quickly leaned closer, whispering the entire situation to him in a low voice.
As the explanation went on—
Taeng's expression changed.
From confusion—
To disbelief.
To complete silence.
When Kit finished—
Taeng leaned back slightly, staring ahead for a second.
Then he looked at Chak.
"Wait," he said. "Why would she even have to marry that idiot in the first place?"
Chak's expression hardened.
"Not because of love," he said.
A beat.
"Because of shares."
The room went quiet again.
"When Phalin married me," Chak continued, his voice calm but sharp, "she assumed she would become co-owner of my sixty percent."
His gaze darkened slightly.
"She was wrong."
A pause.
"All sixty percent belong entirely to me."
He leaned back slightly.
"But if Anamarija marries her brother…" he continued, "Phalin gains access to her twenty percent."
Kit nodded slowly, understanding dawning.
"And together…" he murmured.
"They would hold eighty percent," Chak finished.
Silence.
Heavy.
"They could vote me out," he added coldly. "Force me to step down."
Vikran swore under his breath.
"So this was never about her," he said.
Chak's eyes flicked briefly to Anamarija.
"No," he said quietly.
"It never was."