Romans de Sobby_writes

~ HARRISON POV ~Vanessa Thorne slid her tablet across the boardroom table, her manicured fingers deliberately brushing the cuff of my suit jacket."We can discuss the final equity split over dinner," Vanessa said, keeping her voice pitched just under the drone of the legal team debating at the far end of the room. "My place. We should celebrate."I looked at her hand, then up at her expertly painted smile. Three years ago, Vanessa and I had merged two corporate subsidiaries. Since then, she had made it her secondary career goal to merge our personal lives, treating my widower status as a temporary vacancy on a board of directors. "My schedule is full, Vanessa," I said, pulling my arm back. She offered a knowing, sympathetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "The children. Of course."She didn't care about my children. Neither did I, at this exact moment. I cared about the fact that for the first time in my professional life, I could not focus on a multi-billion dollar acquisition.

~ CHLOE POV ~Six-thirty in the morning was the only time the Cole penthouse felt peaceful. I found Thomas in the kitchen, organizing a silver tray with a single cup of black coffee, half a grapefruit, and a stack of printed financial reports."Mr. Cole takes his breakfast in the formal dining room," Thomas explained softly, noting my presence. "Alone. He reviews the overnight markets. The children eat in the kitchen at eight.""Not today," I said.I woke Leo, Maya, and Sam at seven. They were groggy and confused, especially when I handed them plates of scrambled eggs and toast instead of directing them to the kitchen island."Follow me," I told them."We're not allowed in the formal dining room before school," Leo said, holding his plate defensively. "Dad is working.""Your dad has a very large table," I replied, grabbing a pitcher of orange juice. "And you have to eat. Let's go."I marched all three children down the corridor and pushed open the doors to the formal dining room. Har

~ CHLOE POV ~The Cole penthouse didn't look like a home. It looked like an art gallery where nobody was allowed to touch the exhibits. I stepped out of the private elevator at exactly eight in the morning, carrying my two duffel bags. Thomas stood waiting for me in the foyer, holding a clipboard and looking just as exhausted as he had yesterday. "Welcome to the residence," Thomas said, keeping his voice carefully hushed. I looked around. The living room stretched out in a massive expanse of white marble, floor to ceiling windows, and sharp, slate-colored furniture. There were no family photographs on the walls. There were no stray shoes by the door, no coloring books on the glass coffee table, and no toys. It was a sterile, perfectly calculated environment designed for a billionaire who wanted to forget he had a family the moment he walked through the door. "The children are in the east wing," Thomas explained, handing me a folded stack of fabric. "This is the standard uniform. M

~ HARRISON POV ~"Cancel the rest of the interviews," I said to Thomas, my gaze locked on the twenty four year old standing in the center of the smoke. "Ms. Harper is moving in."Thomas stared at me, his face pale under the fluorescent hallway lights. "Moving in? Sir, you haven't even read her background check.""I don't need to," I replied, finally breaking eye contact with Chloe to look at my estate manager. "Get the children down to the car. Use the service elevator."Security was still swarming the hallway, shouting into radios and waving smoke-clearing fans, but the chaos had fundamentally shifted. My children were no longer screaming. Leo had stopped shielding his younger siblings and was instead watching Chloe with cautious, wide-eyed suspicion. "Leo," I said sharply. My son flinched, looking away from her and up at me. "Follow Thomas," I ordered. Leo didn't move. Maya buried her face in his shirt, and four-year-old Sam just looked terrified. The failure of my authority stun

~ CHLOE POV ~The rejection email glowed on my phone screen: Termination of Representation. I swiped left and deleted the message without breaking my stride across the lobby of Cole Enterprises. I had fifty dollars in my checking account, an eviction notice taped to my apartment door, and crippling student debt. Panic simply wasn't an option today.Thomas, Harrison Cole’s estate manager, met me on the executive floor. He had the frantic, hollow-eyed look of a man surviving on espresso and stress. "Five nannies in six months," Thomas said, matching my pace down the glass-lined corridor. "The last one left crying before noon. I am begging you, Ms. Harper, do not go in there if you startle easily. I cannot handle another resignation.""I don't startle," I told him. "And I don't quit."He pressed his thumb against a biometric scanner outside a set of double doors. "Mr. Cole is already irritated. Keep it brief."The doors slid open. Harrison Cole sat behind a minimalist desk that looked l