AltheaThe morning light seeped through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow over the table. The scent of coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the faint crispness of toast and the subtle warmth of eggs fresh off the pan. It was quiet, save for the occasional clink of silverware against plates and the low hum of the coffee machine.Matthias sat across from me, his fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, eyes still heavy with the remnants of sleep. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his hair still damp from a shower, a few strands falling over his forehead. He wasn’t reading the newspaper or looking at his phone like he usually did. Instead, he was watching me.I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to say or do something, but I didn’t feel like doing anything at all.Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep. Last night was tiring, sure. I had barely had enough sleep or food since my aunt’s funeral. My body was tired, I couldn’t lie. Yet as I lay in bed, I couldn’t get myself to slee
MatthiasThere’s a reason why dealing with idiots is exhausting.Sure, expecting too much often leads to disappointment rather than satisfaction, but I’m fairly certain every person is at least given a brain to think. Some just choose not to use it, letting it rot into nothing more than dead weight in their skulls. And the worst part? They don’t even realize it. They move through life making the same mistakes, refusing to take responsibility, blaming everything and everyone except their own incompetence. It’s almost impressive—the mental gymnastics they go through just to avoid admitting they’re the problem.I tended to stay far from those types. I’d rather deal with nobody than waste my time getting mad over someone’s stupid and questionable behavior. But unfortunately, in business, avoiding them entirely wasn’t always an option. Some of them were clients. Some of them were investors. Some of them were people who, for whatever reason, had power they didn’t deserve.And people like me
[Folded page, extra POV]The dim glow of multiple screens illuminated the darkened room, casting jagged shadows against the walls. The only sound was the faint hum of machines, a steady pulse in the silence. Rows of code scrolled down the largest monitor, lines of encrypted data shifting in real time. Another screen displayed a series of documents—emails, phone records, confidential case files. Each one meticulously compiled, each one tied to a single name: Matthias.The blackmailer leaned back in their chair, fingers tapping idly against the desk as they scanned the information. Matthias had taken the bait. He was cautious, but that was expected. He was a man who thrived on control, on understanding the rules of the game better than anyone else. Which made it all the more satisfying to shift those rules beneath his feet. The misdirection had worked, at least for now. New York had been too easy, too obvious. But it served its purpose—it forced Matthias to react. And a man in motion wa
AltheaIt seemed like I needed a tutorial about how to not overthink things.Days had passed, and by this time, I should have stopped thinking about that name: Gwen. And yet, I couldn’t.Every time I looked at Matthias—when we had breakfast together, when he returned home late at night with that same unreadable expression—her name echoed in my mind like a whisper I couldn’t silence. Who was she? Why hadn’t he said anything about her? Was it because she was just another person in his long list of acquaintances, or was it because she was someone I was never supposed to know about?The worst part was, I knew I had no right to ask. I was his fake wife. Nothing more. We had a contract, an agreement built on necessity, not love. If there was another woman in his life—someone he truly cared about—what place did I have to question it? And yet, knowing all this didn’t make it any easier to ignore the gnawing unease that clawed at my chest.Matthias, on the other hand, remained as composed as e
AltheaThe words lingered between us, thick and suffocating. Matthias’s dearest.I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. My grip on the coffee cup was painfully tight, my knuckles white from the pressure.Gwen’s smile remained perfectly poised, as if she were savoring the reaction she’d just pulled from me. Her hazel eyes gleamed with something unreadable—amusement, curiosity, maybe even satisfaction. She wasn’t just saying it to inform me. She was testing me.I forced myself to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Oh,” I said, my voice thin. “I see.”That was the best I could come up with? I see?Gwen hummed lightly, tilting her head as she studied me. “I thought Matthias would have mentioned me. We go way back.”Go way back.Each word chipped away at the weak wall I had built around my heart. It was stupid, wasn’t it? To feel anything at all? I was nothing but Matthias’s fake wife. A legal obligation. A name on a contract. But that didn’t stop the unease slithering beneath my skin, wrappin
AltheaWas it normal to feel like you were hurt by something, but also felt guilty because you feel hurt? I didn’t know what kind of paradox this was called, or if it was only something that I made up to feel less insane–and failed anyway. I went back to the office, eating nothing, drinking nothing, speaking nothing.I stared at my laptop screen for what felt like hours, but the words blurred together into incomprehensible lines of text. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, useless, frozen. No matter how much I tried to push past it, Gwen’s words replayed in my head, over and over, an unrelenting echo.Matthias’s dearest.The way she said it, the way she looked at me—like I was an outsider in my own marriage. And wasn’t I? Wasn’t that exactly what I was? A placeholder. A name on a contract. A woman with no right to feel anything.And yet, the sting in my chest refused to fade. It pressed deeper, sharper, until it felt like I was suffocating under the weight of something I shouldn’t e
MatthiasIt was always better to say nothing than to say something unnecessary. That was what I believed.Before this shit started to happen.There were things that were better left unsaid. I lived my life long enough, learned my lesson well enough to know that speaking things might bring trouble. And I hated trouble–even when the reality was trouble liked me quite a lot to come on my way.Gwen was nothing. At least for a few years now. I didn’t like to talk about her, nor did I feel the need to do so. She was something I chose to leave in the dark, to keep in a box and throw it away as far as possible.Yet she walked in, once again, with reasons I couldn’t explain. I ignored all her messages, mails, even calls. I made sure she didn’t get any access to reach me. Some people were better to be treated that way.So how could Althea meet her? And what the fuck with that “Matthias’s dearest”? Hearing it almost made me throw up.And now, Althea wouldn’t even look at me.For three days, she
AltheaThere were times where I wished I was good at getting angry–or at least to keep angry.Weird wishes, I knew. But I felt like that might give me some dignity. Because I felt like a fickle, indecisive, and unstable woman. And it was all because of one person: Matthias Cox.I wanted to stay mad. To hold onto my anger like a shield, to let it simmer beneath my skin until he had to acknowledge it. I wasn’t asking for much—just for him to see it, to do something about it. Maybe that was childish. Maybe I was being ridiculous. But was it really too much to expect an apology? A real one. One that came with an explanation that actually meant something, that made all of this easier to bear.At least, that’s what I told myself.But here I was, standing next to his bed, pressing the back of my hand against his burning forehead instead of slamming the door in his face like I originally wanted to. My anger was supposed to last longer than this. It was supposed to be stronger than this. But
MatthiasThe first thing I noticed when I walked into K Company headquarters was how quiet it was.Not the kind of silence that brought peace, but the kind that made your skin itch because it was way too clean, too tidy, too neat. The kind of silence that made you feel like a camera was always watching. The hallways were spotless. The receptionist didn't smile. Even the elevator music was muted, clinical. Every surface gleamed. It was all... too perfect.I hated it.The elevator stopped at the thirty-second floor. I stepped out and was immediately greeted by a young woman in a navy blue pantsuit. She moved like she'd been trained by the Secret Service-efficient, silent, expression unreadable, and smiled enough to tell everyone she met that she was doing her job.It was oddly perfect, and I couldn't help but feel disturbed."Mr. Kennedy will be with you shortly," she said. No eye contact."Of course," I replied nonchalantly, nodding.She led me to a small lounge just outside his office
MatthiasSomething was definitely off. I couldn’t explain it, couldn’t point to a single detail to prove it—but the feeling was there, crawling under my skin. Fucking hell.Forget the plan. Forget the whole strategy of slowly trying to find a way to collaborate with K Company, Tristan’s company. I hadn’t even prepared a proper approach, hadn’t even opened a conversation with anyone from their team. And yet—somehow, the offer came first. From the very people I was planning to approach.Too fast. Too convenient. Was this what people called a miracle? I doubted that.Maybe I wanted to believe it. Maybe, in some twisted corner of my mind, I wanted this to be easy. A lucky break. But luck? It had never been that kind to me. Things like this didn’t just happen—not without a reason.Ren was standing by my desk, scanning the screen of his tablet before his eyes met mine. “It says they need top-tier network protection,” he said flatly. “Apparently, some sensitive data was anonymously access
[94]Althea“You want to work together with Tristan?”Matthias just casually nodded, while I was looking at him with questions—a lot of questions, to be exact.The setting sun painted warm streaks across our living room wall, casting a soft glow around him. But there was nothing soft in the way I stared at him.“Why so suddenly?” I asked again, my voice rising just a little. “Is this your way of digging deeper into Tristan and his company?”Matthias nodded once more. “The closer I get to that man, the better. Everything I’ve found so far hasn’t helped much.”His tone was flat—calm, even. But even I could tell there was something simmering beneath it. Something he wasn’t saying.I didn’t want to push it further, despite my curiosity was itching inside me. It wasn’t the matter of I wanted to know or not, it was him. Something was different from him since he got back from Milan.We were fine, don’t get me wrong. It’s just … you knew the feel when the usual coffee you enjoy tasted a bit d
MatthiasPersonal matters shouldn’t be brought into the workplace. That used to be my rule of thumb.Before everything started to blur. Before the probability of what my old man did started threatening everything I’d built.Tristan’s words kept ringing in my mind like a riddle I didn’t expect. To be fair, I didn’t expect to talk to him or have anything to do with him after all.“I like business, Mr. Cox. But I also like to take what’s originally mine.” And the way he said it—casual yet remarking something hidden underneath, offhanded but with eyes that gleamed like he already knew what cards he held.It wasn’t just about business. Not anymore.I wasn’t a man who gave in to paranoia. But this felt different. A threat, and also a warning. But what for? He was a stranger, or someone I didn’t like to talk about with Althea.That night in Milan, I stayed up later than I should’ve, watching the city lights from the balcony of my hotel suite. I let the sounds of the city drift past me like
Osman Cox didn’t really believe in love.It had always been like that for a long time. Maybe forever, he thought.But that was before he met Janice Chase.She was a different woman. A different kind. Maybe it was because of the way she smiled, or how she didn’t really look at him as one of the Coxes. For her, he was Osman. Just Osman.And that was one of many reasons why he fell for her.They met when they were sixteen. She was the girl who always spoke her mind, the one who cut her own bangs and wore sneakers with holes in them because she refused to throw them out. Janice was … different in her own way. She didn’t care about money, status, or even legacies. She cared about poetry and justice, or weird movies from the seventies. She used to write quotes in the margins of her notebooks and once told him, “Love isn’t a big show, Osman. It’s in the little things. It’s in remembering how someone takes their tea.”He hadn’t known how to respond to that. But he remembered how she took hers
AltheaPeople always say first impressions are important, because that’s the foundation for how others judge you. Granny said it was pretentious—which was true—but what people said actually made sense. Because it was true—your first impression was the base of everyone’s judgment. Some people are smart enough to create a good first impression, making us believe the best in them. Tristan Kennedy was one of those people.The impression he gave was good—almost perfect, even. He made me believe he was trustworthy from just one meeting. He was the first person who told me about my mother, when no one else could tell me anything.I trusted him. So trying to see him from a different angle now was… a little weird, to say the least.It was also a little ironic that I once trusted him more than I trusted Matthias.And yet, here I was, sitting through a meeting at K Company, trying to pay attention, but also watching Tristan. Trying to figure out if there was anything questionable or strange
AltheaI rarely missed people in my life.Granny was one special case, since I didn't have that many people in my life to begin with. But this time, I couldn't explain what I felt except that I missed Matthias when he appeared on my computer screen.He looked tired, but still handsome as ever—his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first two buttons undone. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times, and there was a shadow under his eyes that hadn’t been there before he left.“Hey,” I greeted softly, adjusting the webcam. “Hey,” he replied. His voice alone made my shoulders drop a little, as if it was a bit of fresh air and I could finally breathe again. “You look... relaxed. That’s good.”I smiled and leaned back just slightly, enough for him to catch the see-through slip I was wearing, the soft, sheer fabric falling off one shoulder. His eyes darkened immediately. “You’re trying to kill me,” he said.“Just trying to keep your focus on m
Business was a gamble.Like it or not, that was the fact. High risk, high return. It’s just that this gamble required more planning than just luck, and some who were invited today were all gamblers in business. Including me myself.By the time I reached the conference hall the next day, the sun had barely begun to shine and warm the cobbled streets of Milan. My name was on the program, printed in glossy ink beside the Cox & Tech logo with other invited speakers as well, and the organizers were eager to parade it. “The rising star of innovation,” one of them had said last night over dinner, like I was a brand instead of a person.I didn’t particularly care for the spotlight. But I had learned how to use it.The event was held in a grand, glass-and-stone building that overlooked one of the quieter canals. A few journalists lingered near the entrance, but not many. Most of the press would come later, for the big-name speakers. Right now, it was all murmurs and espresso, greetings between
Matthias“And … yep. You’re ready to go.”Althea nodded slowly after adjusting my tie, her lips curling into a soft smile. “You look good with that tie.”I never really cared about ties, honestly. As long as I looked neat and presentable, that was enough. But I wasn’t about to complain if someone else took notice and made me look even more “put together.” And that person was Althea.“You’re really okay on your own?” I asked her once again.She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know you like to ask one question a thousand times, Matt. I am okay. The baby too. We’ll be fine. Just … you know, tell me if anything happens over there, okay?”That was supposed to be my line.I was actually reluctant to attend this business conference. But Cox and Tech—my company—needed to be present, especially since I was one of the speakers this time. The Milan conference was a major event, one with strong potential to expand business opportunities through collaborations, investments, and various other deals.