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
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
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
[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
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
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
"Oh, God. The meeting was finally over."I let my head drop to the table with a soft thud, not even bothering to hide my exhaustion. The sleeves of my blouse took most of the impact, but that didn't stop me from letting out a sigh - long, dramatic, maybe even a little whiny. I deserved it. Today's meeting had been a slog. Convincing investors that art had value-not just financial, but cultural, emotional-was like pulling teeth with a teaspoon. Worst of all, I actually liked the project.Tristan laughed and placed a cold bottle of water at my elbow. "You survived. Barely.""I deserve an award," I muttered without lifting my head. "Preferably something shiny. Or chocolate. Or edible. All three, actually.""Edible awards," he mused. "There's a startup idea in there somewhere."I groaned. "Don't make me think about business right now. I need food. Or I'll burn up.""I already ordered." He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head. "You like noodles, right?"That made
The night was cold and raining, but he stood still in front of his house, ignoring the wetness of his clothes. He stared ahead, into the dark, as those sentences from his uncle echoed in his mind."Your father is dead.""As his only son, you know the rule, Matt.""Our family will help to manage his burial, but you know the time is short. You need to do it as soon as you can. Being single won't help you, so please choose wisely.""We can talk about this tomorrow. Come to my place at lunch."He didn't need time to grieve. For God's sake, sadness was the last thing he could ever feel for his father. But that old man was the only reason he had a peaceful life like this. Yet it would be taken from him, sooner or later.He hated marriage. He truly did. And he knew it would only give those bastards more power to control him.He exhaled deeply as he ran his fingers through his hair. His uncle was right. The time was short, and he had better start soon. But for fuck sake, where should he star
"Oh, God. The meeting was finally over."I let my head drop to the table with a soft thud, not even bothering to hide my exhaustion. The sleeves of my blouse took most of the impact, but that didn't stop me from letting out a sigh - long, dramatic, maybe even a little whiny. I deserved it. Today's meeting had been a slog. Convincing investors that art had value-not just financial, but cultural, emotional-was like pulling teeth with a teaspoon. Worst of all, I actually liked the project.Tristan laughed and placed a cold bottle of water at my elbow. "You survived. Barely.""I deserve an award," I muttered without lifting my head. "Preferably something shiny. Or chocolate. Or edible. All three, actually.""Edible awards," he mused. "There's a startup idea in there somewhere."I groaned. "Don't make me think about business right now. I need food. Or I'll burn up.""I already ordered." He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head. "You like noodles, right?"That made
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