7:15 a.m.
Julian was still sitting in the chair at the dining table. His coffee had gone cold. No steam rose from it anymore.
This was a new record. In all his life, Julian Vance had never delayed leaving for the office just to... wait.
He glanced at his watch. The second hand ticked slowly, persistently, and annoyingly. Usually, by this time, Julian would already be sitting in the back of his car, reading a summary of the morning's financial news. But today, it was as if his ass had been glued to the dining chair.
Footsteps finally sounded from the hallway.
Julian hurriedly reached for his tablet. He furrowed his brow, pretending to read a stock chart with an intensely serious expression. His ego vehemently refused to let him look like he was sitting around waiting for his wife.
Serena appeared.
She wasn't wearing her usual formal work suit. Instead, she had on cream culottes paired with a drapey sleeveless blouse. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Her makeup was light, but her face looked fresh. Very casual. Not at all like the usual “Mrs. Vance” look she wore so rigidly to company events.
Serena walked over to the kitchen island. She didn't sit at the marble table where Julian was. She busied herself making an instant matcha latte, pouring it into an insulated tumbler, then snatching her car keys off the drawer.
“ aren't you having breakfast?”
The question slipped from Julian's mouth before he could stop it, betraying his own resolve to remain silent.
Serena paused for a moment and turned around. Her expression was relaxed, completely unburdened. “No. I'll have breakfast out.”
“You're driving yourself?” Julian frowned at the keys in his wife's hand. “Where's your driver?”
“I gave him the day off. My schedule is packed today, and I have to move between different locations. It's easier to drive myself,” Serena replied flatly. She put her tumbler into her tote bag. “I'm heading out first.”
“Wait.”
Serena's steps halted at the threshold separating the kitchen from the foyer. She turned around, raising one eyebrow questioningly. “Yes?”
Julian stood up. He set his tablet down on the table a little too roughly. “Where are you going dressed so casually? Doesn't your foundation have a proper dress code?”
Serena gave a small smile. It was just as bland as the one she'd worn last night. “I'm the boss of my foundation, Julian. I make the rules. Besides, I have a field inspection today for the site of a new orphanage. Wearing a suit and pencil skirt would only make things difficult.”
“With that... who was it last night? Dirga?” Julian prodded. His jaw tightened slightly.
“Yes. He's the lead architect.” Serena answered without hesitation.
There was no sign of awkwardness. No attempt to hide anything. It was all too transparent. And that casual honesty was exactly what made Julian even more irritated.
Serena glanced at her tiny watch. “Anything else? I'm almost late.”
Julian froze in place.
Those words were exactly what he often said whenever Serena tried to keep him at the dining table to talk. Anything else? I'm almost late. It felt like being struck in the solar plexus by a boomerang of his own making.
“Nothing,” Julian replied stiffly. “Be careful.”
Serena didn't answer. She turned and walked away without looking back. A few seconds later, the sound of the penthouse's front door closing rang out.
Click.
Julian roughly rubbed his face. A complete failure. This morning, he'd intended to assert his authority. Remind Serena of her place. But just now? He knew perfectly well that he'd looked like a nagging husband awkwardly searching for attention.
11:00 a.m. The CEO's office at Vance Group.
Julian signed the final document with a sharp stroke that nearly tore through the paper. He tossed the folder to Martha, who was waiting across the desk.
“Anything else, Martha?”
“No, sir. Your schedule is clear until lunch. At two this afternoon, you have a virtual meeting with the London branch.” Martha straightened the stack of documents in her arms. “For lunch, would you like me to order from your usual restaurant?”
Julian rolled an expensive pen between his fingers. His eyes stared blankly at the spacious desk in front of him.
“Martha.”
“Yes, sir?”
“What's the address of Serena's family foundation office?”
Martha blinked. Once. Twice. The usually quick and robotic-looking assistant suddenly seemed confused. “I'm sorry, sir? Mrs. Serena's foundation?”
“Yes. Where's the office?” Julian repeated. His tone was beginning to grow impatient.
Martha swallowed softly. “I... I'll have to check first, sir. As it happens, in the past three years, you've never asked me to enter that address into your driver's navigation system.”
Martha delivered the sentence with perfect politeness and professionalism. But to Julian, it landed like a sledgehammer smashing through his ribs.
Three years of marriage. Three full years living under the same roof.
And Julian Vance—the man hailed as a genius because he knew the valuations and addresses of dozens of rival companies by heart—had absolutely no idea where his wife worked every day. He didn't know what color the foundation's building was. He didn't know where Serena spent most of her time.
“Find out the address,” Julian said more quietly, trying to hide the embarrassment that suddenly stung his supreme ego. “And find out about the new orphanage project they're building, too. Who the contractor is, where it's located, and who the lead architect is.”
Martha nodded quickly. She knew there were boundaries she wasn't allowed to question. “Yes, sir. I'll prepare the report right away.”
“One more thing,” Julian said, stopping Martha as she reached for the doorknob.
He turned his gaze toward the floor-to-ceiling glass wall in his office. He was reluctant to meet his assistant's eyes.
“Clear my schedule tomorrow afternoon. I want to have lunch out.”
Martha nodded as she took note. “Yes, sir. With Mrs. Serena?”
Julian didn't answer right away. He stared at his own reflection in the window glass. The reflection of an arrogant man who was now secretly beginning to panic as he realized he was losing control over something real.
“Yes,” Julian finally answered, his voice heavy. “With my wife.”