By the time the conference wrapped up, my brain felt like it had been put through a grinder.

The Q&A session stretched longer than expected, full of half-smiles, political phrasing, and the kind of questions that were really just chess moves in disguise.

Then came the guided site tour.

They split the companies into their groups, a few representatives from the Bureau joining each of us as we moved through the perimeter of the proposed Meridian Development grounds.

The air smelled like concrete dust and new beginnings. I kept my focus on the terrain, the layout, the logistics, anything that wasn't her.

But I still caught myself glancing over. Again and again.

Trying to see if she'd at least turn. Just once.

Even a look.

Nothing.

Not once in all the four hours the event lasted.

She kept close to her team — calm, composed, the picture of professionalism. If she felt anything about what had happened that morning, she hid it well. Almost too well.

And maybe that's what hurt the most.

I could handle losing. I could even handle her father's games. But her silence... that was the knife.

Because if she'd just looked at me, even once, I'd have known there was still something between us that wasn't work or rivalry or whatever the hell this had turned into.

But she didn't.

By the time we got back into the cars to return to Gray & Milton, the silence in our team was heavier than the traffic.

No one said anything. Not Hale. Not Tasha. Not Ji-ho. Not even Noah.

It wasn't just quiet, it was loaded. The kind of silence that filled every inch of air, where glances did the talking because words would've only made things worse.

And I didn't need to be a genius to guess why.

It wasn't just that Moreau Dynamics had taken control of the room. It wasn't just that Celestia Valentina Moreau had handled the panel's last question like she'd written the entire project brief herself — she probably had.

It was that she was mine.

My wife.

And she was the one who'd just made sure our team didn't come out on top.

So yeah, I understood the silence.

Because if I were them, I'd be wondering the same thing too — what the hell was Kai Tanaka doing when his own wife was dismantling the competition, piece by piece?

And worse... how long had he known?

If they were to score today's briefing, we'd be sitting at a clean third place.

Weldane Mechanics in second.

And Moreau Dynamics, of course, on top — effortless, flawless, untouchable.

Her father must've been proud.

When we pulled into the Gray & Milton parking lot, it was already close to two in the afternoon. The sunlight outside had that lazy golden hue, but everything inside me felt dull.

Walking through the lobby, I could feel the looks.

People trying not to look too curious, but failing miserably. A few had probably already seen the news. It wasn't exactly a secret, the Meridian Development pre-proposal had made morning coverage everywhere.

And yeah, they saw it.

They saw her.

And me.

The looks said enough — half pity, half confusion, a few whispers trailing behind.

I went straight to my desk, loosened my tie, and sank into my chair like it might hold up the weight sitting in my chest.

For a long moment, I didn't do anything. Just sat there, staring at the glass wall across from me where my own reflection looked like someone else entirely.

Then I heard Derrick's voice from the next desk.

He turned in his chair, one brow raised, that usual grin tugging at his mouth. "How'd it go?"

I didn't even look at him.

He smirked. "That bad, huh?"

I didn't reply. Just leaned back, exhaling through my nose, the sound coming out harsher than I meant it to.

His smirk faltered a little.

"Wait, seriously? Don't tell me it went south already. I didn't even catch the news, had a morning meeting that ran over."

"Yeah," I muttered, still not meeting his eyes. "Probably better you didn't."

There was a short silence.

Derrick swiveled slightly in his chair, watching me with that cautious, searching look friends give when they don't know whether to push or not.

"You alright, man?"

"Yeah," I said too quickly. Then softer, rubbing a hand over my face, "Sorry. Rough day."

He nodded slowly. "Guess so. You look like someone just ran you through a damn press conference."

"Something like that," I said, letting out a humorless breath.

He didn't press further. He just leaned back, arms crossed, a small frown replacing his grin. "Whatever it is… it's not the end of the world, Kai."

Maybe not.

But right now, sitting there in that chair, every part of me wanted to believe that.

But couldn't.

---

By the time I closed my laptop and finally stepped out of the office, the sky had already darkened, the last traces of daylight giving way to streetlights and the cool glow of the parking lot lamps. My shoulders were heavy — not just from work, but from the weight of the day. The Pre-Proposal Conference hadn't gone how I wanted. Moreau Dynamics had controlled the room. And Val… my wife… had been the one leading them.

I pulled my coat tighter and stepped into the crisp evening air, trying to ignore the sting that lingered behind my ribs.

That's when I saw her—Tasha, leaning casually against my car, arms crossed, an expression that was part concern, part curiosity.

"Hey," I said softly.

"Hey," she replied, equally soft, but there was a gentle concern in her tone.

She tilted her head, her expression measured but sincere. "Are you… alright?"

I smirked, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Her gaze softened, dropping to the ground for a brief moment before she looked back at me. "I just… I know you hate feeling like you've been blindsided." Her voice was careful, respectful. "And… you didn't deserve that today."

I exhaled slowly, feeling a small comfort in her words. "Thanks, Tasha. That… actually helps."

She nodded slightly. "You know, sometimes all anyone can do is just… remind you that you're still capable, even when it feels like the world's stacked against you."

I managed a small laugh, shaking my head. "You sound like a motivational speaker now."

She chuckled, the kind of quiet, genuine laugh that always made me feel seen. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just trying not to cross lines I shouldn't."

I gave her a small, appreciative nod. "Well… mission accomplished, for what it's worth."

Just as I was about to step into the car, my phone buzzed.

Trent: You okay, man? Marina's asking too… she wants to make sure you didn't lose it today.

Knowing Trent, he probably saw the news too — and, of course, he'd check in. Marina, being her usual mix of concern and threat, had obviously done the same.

I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the reply button. I guessed everyone must've been thinking the same thing I was. Maybe my marriage wasn't as picture-perfect as it looked. Maybe it seemed like I'd been helping Moreau Dynamics all along. Hell, maybe it was the plan of the century.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Yeah. Just tired.

We ended the text, and I leaned back against the car for a moment, letting the silence of the parking lot wash over me.

I drove a few blocks before stopping at a red light, the city buzzing quietly around me. Leaning back against the car, I let the silence of the moment wash over me. That's when my eyes caught the display on a nearby newsstand. The headlines jumped out, impossible to ignore:

"Meridian Development Initiative: Moreau Dynamics Steals the Spotlight at Pre-Proposal"

#Gray&MiltonOutmatched #HusbandHelpingWife? #BusinessDynasty

I scowled at the hashtags. My team's months of prep reduced to a tabloid headline. My wife, right there at the center, and now the world speculating if I'd been secretly playing for their side all along. The media didn't just report the bid; they added the drama, the insinuations, and the whispers about our marriage.

Shoving the thought away, I continued the drive home, trying to focus on the familiar streets rather than the chaos online.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, the quiet of the house was a stark contrast to the noise of the outside world. Val's car wasn't in the driveway which meant she wasn't home yet.

Aline was there to greet me, Duchess at her feet, tail flicking lazily as if she'd been keeping watch.

"Back already?" Aline asked, smiling. She noticed immediately the weight in my eyes. "Do you want me to set dinner?"

I shook my head, managing a small, tired smile. "No thanks. Ate a little at the office."

Aline raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. I could tell she knew I hadn't. My appetite had completely evaporated.

"Alright, if you say so," she said, stepping aside to let me pass. Duchess gave a disdainful look at me as if silently judging me for coming home empty-handed.

I dropped my briefcase by the counter, sliding the car keys onto the dish. "Thanks," I murmured, more to myself than anyone.

But even from Aline's greeting, I could sense she'd seen the news. She didn't say anything outright, but there was that subtle glance, the almost imperceptible shift in her tone that told me everything I needed to know.

I made my way to the bedroom, stripped out of my jacket, and took a long, cold shower. The water was meant to wash away the day, the betrayal, the ache of watching her on the other side.

But it didn't.

The thought of Val sitting across from me today, debating against our own team… it hurt. Not in a physical way, but deeper, sharper.

Didn't we just make up?

Was she holding a grudge I didn't see? Or was this just… business?

I didn't have the answers. Not yet.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, because all I could do was wait and hope that when she walked through that door, she'd still be the same Val. My Val.

The one I knew would never intentionally hurt me.

And even as the ache lingered, even as the images from the meeting replayed in my mind, I clung to that thought.

Because at the end of it all, she was still mine.

And I had to believe that was enough — for now.

---

To be continued...

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