Later, Marcus and I left the office to head back and prepare for my trip abroad.
On the way, I asked the driver to stop by a flower shop—I had a little plan in mind. Marcus gave me a frown but said nothing.
The journey was long, though Grandpa had arranged a first-class, ultra-comfy flight. I mostly slept through it all.
Once we arrived at the luxury apartment where I'd be staying, I called Grandpa to update him, then texted and called Karthiel. No answer. I sighed.
I took a shower, then plopped onto the bed and tried calling Karthiel again—still no answer.
The apartment was big, dark-toned, and sleek. I stayed upstairs while Marcus settled downstairs. A maid came by to help with meals and chores.
After dinner, I laid down, not wanting to jump into business yet, and quickly fell asleep.
At midnight, I woke up thirsty. Checking my phone, I spotted a missed call—from Karthiel.
My heart raced as I sat up and fixed my hair. I dialed him back.
He answered.
"Oh my, you picked up!" I exclaimed, excitement bubbling.
On the other end, Karthiel sat elegantly at his home office desk, wearing golden-rimmed glasses and surprisingly casual yet classy nightwear. He gave a small hum of acknowledgment, his composed expression softening as he looked at me.
"I called you earlier, but you didn't pick up. I figured you were busy," I muttered.
He seemed slightly taken aback. "It was you who called." he replied slowly. "I didn't realize it. I was in a meeting, and my phone stayed with my assistant. Maybe he didn't recognize your number and locked it. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
His clear, serious explanation—and even involving his assistant—surprised me. It showed he cared more than he let on, and that made me really happy.
Trying to keep my cool, I said, "Sorry for disturbing you. I'll make sure not to call during meetings or work hours."
"No need for that," he said smoothly. "You can call whenever you want. It's my job to pick up at the right times."
"Oh, okay," I smiled shyly, feeling warm inside.
That day I was shining brighter than the sun—happy and grinning like a maniac. Marcus gave me a look, then sighed like he knew what was coming.
Even though I was in a great mood, I stayed focused during my business lectures with Mr. Max—Grandpa's pick to get me up to speed. Mr. Max was handsome, all American charm, and yeah, he flirted like crazy. But hey, I'm no less—so of course, I flirted back, keeping a respectful distance.
The whole day flew by in work mode.
When I got back to the apartment that evening, I called Karthiel. The phone rang while I loosened my necktie, already in a playful mood.
"Hi, my love," I purred, making sure my voice was dripping with honey.
Karthiel was in his study, glasses on, hair a bit messy but still damn perfect and sexy. "What did you say?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"My love! Doesn't it sound good? Want me to upgrade it to 'hubby'?" I teased, wiggling my eyebrows.
He let out a low sigh, eyes flicking to my exposed neck and collarbone. I caught his gaze and smirked.
"Do you like what you see?" I said, deliberately pulling my collar lower for him. He looked away, cool as ever, muttering something about what a troublemaker I was.
That only made me giggle devilishly.
I was about to tease him more when my phone buzzed.
Karthiel noticed. "Who is it?" he asked casually, flipping open a file.
I placed the phone on the dressing table, right where he could see me, then slowly started unbuttoning my shirt.
"It's Mr. Max—he's supposed to teach me business stuff. Guess he called about some work," I said, ruffling my hair as I changed into a loose, comfy T-shirt with a big collar.
Karthiel kept flipping through his file, but his eyes stayed locked on me. Then his voice suddenly turned cold. "Why does he need to call? Haven't you talked enough during the day?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe he remembered something. Or maybe he just likes to talk—he's friendly, a little flirty. I don't mind," I replied, flopping onto the bed to get comfortable.
His eyes darkened. "You flirt with him?"
I suddenly felt a flush creeping up my neck, like I was stepping into dangerous territory.
So I quickly said, "No! Why would I flirt? My eyes and heart are only on you. No matter how handsome he is, you're still the most handsome in my eyes, darling."
I shot him my best heart-eyes.
Karthiel just gave a low hum, but I caught that faint flicker of pleasure and satisfaction in his eyes. Jackpot.
I was about to tease him even more when Marcus suddenly shouted from the living room, "Evaric? Why aren't you answering Mr. Max's calls? He's asking you out for dinner. Call him back!"
I froze.
The room felt ten degrees colder. I gulped and glanced at Karthiel, who was still looking at his file, but now his mood had shifted. His jaw clenched, and the poor file looked like it might suffer some casualties in his grip.
Am I imagining things? Or is he actually jealous?
"I've got work to do," Karthiel said flatly, shutting the file with a sharp snap. "Enjoy your dinner."
Before I could say anything, the call cut off. I let out a dramatic sigh.
"Damn you, Marcus! Couldn't you have waited a little longer?" I grumbled.
From the living room came a loud, perfectly timed cough—classic Marcus.
Wait, if he's really jealous? Wow, that's a win-win for me. Maybe I should send Mr. Max a thank-you note.
For two whole days, Karthiel didn't pick up my calls. Wow, he's really something—ignoring me like a pro. But tonight, after me calling more than ten times in a row, he finally answered.
I whined immediately, "Darling, I'm sorry! Can you please stop ignoring me? I didn't even go to that dinner, seriously! I'm all loyal—only talk business. Other than that, I don't even open my mouth, trust me." I batted my best puppy eyes at him.
Karthiel, sitting in his office like the king he is, seemed slightly pleased by my words. But of course, he stayed cold and said nothing, fingers still typing away on his laptop.
I pressed on, "Darling, forgive me already. You can take that flower bouquets as my sincere apology. Oh! By the way, do you like them?" I asked, curious and hopeful.
Finally, Karthiel stopped typing, his face flickering with confusion and surprise. "What flowers?" he asked, looking at me for the first time.
My heart skipped. I sat up straight, confused. "The flowers! I asked the shop to send you three times a day since the day I left. Didn't you get any?" I frowned. His face showed a flat denial—he hadn't received a single one.
"But how! I paid the shop upfront, wrote out my precious feelings for you for each bouquet! Wait—hang on, let me call them and sue them." I didn't wait for Karthiel's answer and cut the call, dialing the flower shop right away.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Karthiel dialed a number. He looked calm and composed, but there was a quickness in his movements that betrayed a rare urgency. His assistant answered promptly.
Karthiel's voice was deep, stern. "Have there been flower bouquets sent recently?"
"Yes, sir," the assistant replied. "They arrived three times a day. I assumed it was a mistake and kept them aside, knowing you don't like surprises."
Karthiel rubbed his forehead slowly. "Did you throw them away?"
"No, sir. They were too pretty to discard, so I kept them," the assistant said. "Do you want them now?"
"Send them back to me. Quickly and safely." Karthiel ordered, then cut the call. He immediately dialed again.
"Darling, I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on. The shop insists they sent your flowers on time," I said, confused.
Karthiel's voice softened, gentle like I'd never heard before. "My assistant received them but didn't know they were from you."
"Oh—so did you get them?" I asked eagerly. "Yes," he said, flipping through a small note attached to the bouquet.
"Are you reading my messages?" I teased, dramatically clutching my chest. "They're all my romantic feelings, written from the heart."
A low chuckle escaped his lips. This time, he didn't hide it. His mouth curved up in a subtle smile as he read every word with genuine interest and something like adoration in his eyes.
I caught that look and felt certain—it wasn't just my imagination this time.
"The flowers are pretty, aren't they?" I asked, trying to sound casual but hopeful.
Karthiel gave a soft hum, his eyes briefly lifting from the papers.
I saw him carefully folding and placing every note—my words—into a neat stack on his desk, like they were something precious.
In that moment, I knew I was getting closer. Closer to my two missions: mastering the ruthless world of business, and winning over the cold, untouchable Karthiel. And deep down, I was sure—I'd succeed at both.