Sunlight slipped through the curtains, warm against my face.
I groaned softly and turned away, my head still heavy from yesterday.
Ahh… another day.
Yesterday had been chaos. Absolute chaos.
Reporters were everywhere—circling, waiting, hunting. Like werewolves waiting for their meat. Every question sharp, every camera too close.
Engagement. Business. Love. Lies. I had smiled through it all, like I was trained to.
My stomach growled.
"I'm starving," I muttered, pushing myself out of bed.
I tied my hair loosely and walked downstairs, the marble floor cool beneath my feet. The smell of breakfast filled the space—and then I saw him.
Ren.
He was already there, seated calmly at the dining table, dressed neatly, scrolling through his tablet as if the world hadn't exploded yesterday. As if nothing could shake him.
Of course.
He looked up and met my eyes, his expression soft but unreadable.
"Good morning, Jay."
"Good morning," I replied, grabbing a chair. "What are you doing here so early?
"
He smiled slightly. "My parents told me to visit you in the morning. Since…"
He paused.
"…I'm your fiancé now."
I let out a dry breath. "Yeah. Right."
He didn't react. Just observed me the way he always did—quietly, carefully.
"Jay," he said after a moment, setting the tablet aside. "Can I ask you something?"
I nodded, reaching for my breakfast.
"Why did you agree to the marriage?"
My hand stilled.
"I honestly thought you were going to say no," he continued. "That's why I said yes."
I swallowed.
"Because you're like me, I thought."
(A child who never says no to their parents.
Because you haven't moved on either.
Because neither of us chose this… but we accepted it.)
"I don't know," I said finally. "It just… happened."
Ren studied my face, then spoke again, softer this time.
"What about Keifer?"
I gasped.
Keifer.
The name alone was enough to make my heart lose its rhythm.
"What about him?" I said quickly, forcing my tone steady. "He's engaged too—to Ion. And what exactly am I supposed to wait for?" I laughed bitterly. "Besides, he used me, didn't he?"
It had been nine years.
Nine years—and still, when I said his name, my heart beat too fast.
Ren didn't push. He never did. He simply nodded once, accepting my answer, even if he didn't believe it.
We ate in silence after that.
Later, we left for the office together. Side by side. Professional. Controlled. Perfect in the eyes of the world.
But inside, I knew.
Nothing about this was simple.
Nothing about this was over.
The car ride to the office was silent.
Not awkward—just controlled. Ren focused on the road, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other checking his watch. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger.
As soon as we arrived, everything changed.
The moment we stepped into Mariano Corporation, eyes turned. Conversations lowered. Whispers followed us like shadows.
The fiancé.
The CEO.
The alliance.
I straightened my posture instinctively. This was my battlefield.
Ren walked beside me, perfectly composed, matching my pace but never invading my space. To anyone watching, we looked effortless. Powerful. United.
Inside the elevator, the doors slid shut with a soft ding.
Silence again.
"Busy schedule today," Ren said calmly, scanning the digital board. "Your father moved the board meeting earlier."
"I know," I replied. "He always does that when he wants control."
Ren's lips curved faintly—not amused, not surprised.
The elevator opened. The tension followed us out.
In the conference room, executives stood the moment I entered. Familiar faces. Sharp eyes. Calculating minds.
"Good morning," I said, voice steady.
Ren took the seat beside me—not at the head, not dominating. Strategic. Respectful.
Throughout the meeting, I spoke with precision. Numbers. Expansion. Contracts. Every word measured. Every decision questioned.
And Ren…
He watched.
Not possessively. Not proudly. Just attentively.
When he spoke, it was brief—but effective. Suggestions that aligned perfectly with my vision. Too perfectly.
I glanced at him once.
He met my eyes for a second longer than necessary.
Something passed between us—not attraction, not affection—understanding.
After the meeting, as everyone filed out, my assistant leaned in.
"Media is requesting a joint statement," she whispered. "Photos. Just five minutes.
"
I exhaled slowly.
"Schedule it."
Ren heard.
"I'll handle it," he said quietly. "If it gets overwhelming."
I looked at him. "I can handle pressure."
"I know," he replied. "That's not what I meant."
Before I could respond, he stepped aside, giving me space—always space.
And that was the problem.
He was calm where chaos lived.
Present where memories haunted.
A fiancé on paper… standing between me and a past that refused to stay buried.
As I walked toward my office, my phone vibrated in my hand.
An unknown international number.
My heart skipped.
I didn't answer.
Not yet.