Chapter 7

"What are you afraid of?" Trey turned and gathered Angela into his arms, his voice tender.

"I'm afraid your family will force us apart. I'm afraid I'll grow old with you and Pete, always living in the shadows, without any real standing. And I'm terrified that one day... you'll look at me and no longer feel the same."

Angela's eyelashes fluttered down, her voice catching in a practiced, delicate sob.

"I would never."

Trey cupped her face, brushing away the dampness at the corners of her eyes with his thumb.

"I gave you my word—I will always protect you. No one can come between us. And my heart will never belong to anyone else."

"Trey…"

Overcome, Angela closed her eyes and kissed him.

His company was on the verge of its IPO, yet he had still yielded to her pleas and brought her into his home.

But Angela couldn't shake the feeling that something in him had changed over the last two years. The reckless, all-consuming passion he'd once had for her had cooled. Worse, he seemed to think of Khloe more and more, sometimes even when Angela was right beside him.

A woman's intuition is sharp and easily unsettled. No matter how secure she pretended to be, the gnawing doubt was there.

Her kiss ignited a familiar heat in him. His hand slid up to cradle the nape of her neck as he guided her toward the bedroom. But in that very instant, Khloe's face flashed across his mind.

At the crucial moment, he froze.

"What's wrong…?"

Startled, Angela clutched his arm.

But he gently pushed past her, heading straight for the bathroom, where he splashed cold water on his face, trying to douse the fire and the sudden, unwelcome guilt.

His mind was in turmoil. The moment Khloe had appeared in his thoughts, his desire had evaporated. That, of course, was something he could never confess to Angela.

"Must have been something I ate," he lied, stepping back into the room. "My stomach just turned on me." He kissed her forehead in apology, murmuring soft excuses.

Though a flicker of displeasure crossed her face, Angela held her tongue, choosing to remember his indulgence over the past few days instead.

…

Early the next morning, Trey stormed into the office. On his way, his phone had been blowing up with calls—several crucial partners, deals he'd fought hard to win, had abruptly pulled out.

"What the hell is going on?!"

His fury was a physical presence in the conference room, and his staff didn't dare to breathe too loudly.

"Mr. Fox, it's… it's because the payment approvals were delayed…"

"Delayed? How could they be delayed?!" he roared.

"You weren't here yesterday, sir. No one was authorized to sign off."

Trey paused, remembering he had taken the call about it while he was away with Angela. But that was a trivial matter—wasn't that what Khloe was for?

"Wasn't Miss Roswell in yesterday? Why didn't anyone go to her—"

He cut himself off. Officially, Khloe held no signing authority.

"Useless! All of you, get out!"

After unleashing a torrent of scathing criticism, he summoned Khloe to his office.

She had just arrived and had already overheard the news about the collapsed deals and his erupting temper.

"Miss Roswell," a colleague whispered, her face pale, "Mr. Fox is in a rage. The contracts fell through. You should go in there."

"I know," Khloe replied with unnerving calm, and pushed the door open.

Though Trey was still seething, his anger visibly subsided the moment he saw her. "You're here."

"I was with an important client yesterday when your assistant brought the documents to me. I had to leave in a hurry for the meeting."

Her tone held the right touch of helplessness. "You know my position here is unofficial. Signing on your behalf is a sensitive matter. If anything had gone wrong, not only would I be unable to bear the responsibility, but it could also implicate you."

She let out a soft, weary sigh. "I just didn't expect our partners to be so inflexible. A single day's delay, and they wouldn't grant any leeway."

Her words carried no forced remorse. Instead, they were a clear, sharp reminder of the reality: she hadn't been shirking her duty; he had never given her the authority to fulfill it. And the partners' impatience had been unreasonable.

Under her steady, guileless gaze, his fleeting suspicion that she had sabotaged the deals on purpose completely dissolved.

Khloe had always put the company's interests first. She had even taken the initiative to meet a client yesterday. How could she deliberately undermine things? The reality was, he simply hadn't considered how impossible her position was without any real authority.

And he had been the one who was distracted—squandering critical time with Angela while the company was on the brink of its public listing.

The more he reflected, the more a pang of guilt twisted in his chest. He had wronged Khloe.

"Trey, this is a crucial period for the company," she said, seizing the perfect moment. "Why not grant me some temporary signing authority? If another urgent matter comes up, I can resolve it without delay."

His eyes flickered with surprise. Khloe had never asked for power before. Even when she needed to access sensitive company data for her projects, she had always done it under his supervision.

"Is that a problem?" she asked lightly, feigning retreat. "If you don't feel comfortable, then forget I—"

"It's not a problem. I trust you." He cut her off, not wanting her to see the hesitation he knew had flashed in his eyes. "But full signing authority requires board approval. I'll give you partial access for now."

"That works."

Her lips curved in quiet satisfaction. She had known he wouldn't yield so easily. But even partial access was enough to copy what she needed. To dismantle Trey's empire, patience was key.

She moved quickly, downloading two years of core company data—financial records, client portfolios, and proprietary algorithms. With these files secured, every future bid, every step toward the IPO, would be under her control. The power had silently shifted.

…

At noon, Khloe's phone buzzed. It was a call from Trey's mother, Stella Oakley.

"Alicia is craving your cooking. I've already spoken with Trey. Get over here now!"

The line went dead. It was a command, not a request.

Khloe wasn't the least bit surprised. From the day she had entered the Fox family, Stella had treated her as a live-in servant.

Despite having a full staff of maids, Khloe was expected to personally cook and clean for her in-laws every single week. Even Trey's sister, Alicia, would demand meals only from her, forcing Khloe to make daily deliveries.

For Trey's sake, she had endured it all for two years.

But now, staring at the darkened screen, a cold glint flashed in her eyes. She set the phone aside, unhurriedly opened her laptop, and began reviewing the company's project plans.

One file, marked in red, caught her attention—a cornerstone project she had built from the ground up. The client director trusted no one but her to handle the final negotiations.

After a moment's thought, she went to Trey's office, only to be told by his assistant that he had rushed out after an urgent call, pushing back all his meetings.

She dialed his number, but it was Angela's saccharine voice that answered.

"Khloe, are you looking for Trey?"

"Ms. Thompson? You're with him?"

"Oh, don't misunderstand," Angela said, her tone dripping with false reassurance. "We're at the hospital. Pete had a little fall and hurt his leg. It's nothing serious, just a scrape. Trey is helping him with the antiseptic right now. Should I have him call you back?"

"No need. Pete's well-being is the priority. You two take your time."

Without waiting for a reply, Khloe ended the call.

On the other end, Angela's face tightened with irritation. How rude.

When Trey returned with a perfectly cheerful Pete, she handed him the phone, her expression neutral. "Khloe called. I answered it for you. Do you want to call her back?"

He hesitated, but Pete immediately tugged on his arm. "Daddy! My leg hurts!"

Knowing his son was only acting, Trey pinched his cheek in warning.

When Trey had taken Angela's call, he'd thought it was an emergency. Her rushed words about their son falling, paired with the child's dramatic cries, had made him drop everything. But at the hospital, all he found was a scraped knee—so minor it had scabbed before he even arrived.

"Was it about work?" Trey asked.

Angela replied casually, not meeting his eyes. "She said it wasn't urgent. Maybe she just... missed you." Her tone was carefully laced with a hint of possessive jealousy.

Trey reached for her hand. She pulled away once, then twice, until he finally caught her fingers and murmured in her ear, "Honey."

Despite herself, a faint smile touched her lips.

"Don't forget," she chided softly, "you already have a wife."

"Don't say that. You're the only wife I have."

Their whispered intimacy carried them out into the hallway. From his seat, Pete watched with a smug smirk. With his mother back, that wretched Khloe would be kicked to the curb sooner or later.

"Enough now, don't be upset," Trey soothed, trying to extricate himself. "I should really call her back. If she gets suspicious, it will complicate things."

"She won't suspect you," Angela countered, her voice laced with contemptuous certainty. "She's too infatuated, too foolish. Her entire world revolves around you."

"Angela…"

"If you call her back now, it means your heart is wavering."

Normally, a few sweet words were enough to placate her, but this time she stood her ground. Not wanting to upset her further, he relented.

And if he was honest, she was right. Khloe's devotion to him was blind and absolute. She never questioned him. Managing her had always been effortless.

…

Half an hour later, Stella called Khloe again.

"Why are you dragging your feet? The company is right near Alicia's neighborhood. Are you a sloth?" Her tone was sharper this time, and she didn't immediately hang up, waiting for a response.

A cold smile curved Khloe's lips. She finally spoke, "Stella, I'm in a critical meeting. The company is in the final stages of its public listing. One misstep could mean astronomical losses. I truly cannot leave right now."

The line went silent for several seconds. Stella could hardly believe what she was hearing. Khloe had never dared to defy her before.

"Have you lost your mind? You dare to disobey me? Have you forgotten the Fox family rules? The first is respect for your elders—"

"I said I cannot leave," Khloe repeated, her tone respectful yet unyielding. "Trey's work is the highest priority. That's what you have always taught me, isn't it?"

Before Stella could muster a retort, Khloe continued smoothly, her voice dripping with false concern, "But Alicia is still recovering from giving birth. She must have the best nutrition. Whatever she's craving, I'll have Trey's assistant order from the finest Michelin-starred restaurants, or even hire a private chef for the day. Money is no object. We'll just put it all on the company's account."