Chapter 22

BRANDON’S POV

Mondays weren’t supposed to be this long.

The office was unusually quiet for once, which should have been a blessing, but it only made the ticking clock above the window louder. I sat at the conference table with a pen in one hand and a cup of cold coffee in the other, sifting through the final contracts from the new company acquisition. My back ached from sitting too long. I was mentally counting down the hours until I could go home and pretend the business world didn’t exist—at least for one night.

Kyle stood by the whiteboard, jotting notes with quick, practiced strokes. His blazer was slung over the back of a chair, and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing the faint ink of a tattoo he usually tried to keep hidden during board meetings. It was late enough that formality had slipped a little.

“You’re quiet,” he said without looking up. “Which means you’re either really focused… or you’re about to tear this contract to shreds.”

I let out a low sigh. “Focused. Barely. These merger terms are tighter than they need to be, but they’ll hold.”

Kyle smirked, capping the marker. “You sound exhausted.”

“That’s because I am.” I leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a long week, and it’s only Monday.”

He chuckled. “You say that every Monday.”

“Because it’s true every Monday.”

He crossed the room and dropped into the chair across from me, flipping through his tablet. “Speaking of long weeks, we need to talk about the dinner party.”

I glanced at him. “What dinner party?”

He looked up like I had  just told him the sky was green. “The company dinner party. Thursday night. You approved the budget two weeks ago.”

I stared for a beat, then groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “Right. That dinner.”

Kyle raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” I lied. “I just... misplaced it in my brain.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a faint grin tugging at his lips. “I have  already gotten the vendors confirmed, the venue finalized, and the staff briefed. All you have to do is show up, smile, and make your speech.”

“That’s never all I have to do.”

“Well, this time it actually might be.” He scrolled through his tablet and then paused. “Oh—and don’t forget to bring your wife.”

I blinked. “Freya?”

“No, your other wife. Yes, Freya.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “She’s not going to be thrilled. She hates corporate events especially one where Bryan and his wife are going to be in attendance.”

“Yeah, well, so do I, and I still have to be there. At least she gets to dress up, drink expensive wine, and pretend to like the board members’ wives for two hours.”

I exhaled. “You really know how to sell it.”

Kyle tapped a few more times on the screen, pulling up the guest list. “It’s all the usual suspects. The Madelon's  are confirmed—both of them—along with the board, senior partners, and a few high-value clients we’re courting. There’ll be a live quartet, light dinner buffet, signature cocktails, the works.”

“The works,” I echoed. “Which means someone is bound to get drunk and say something regrettable.”

“Isn’t that tradition?” Kyle smirked.

I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Maybe. But it’s also important. It’s the first major event since the expansion was announced. This is where you play politician.”

“Lucky me.”

Kyle paused, his tone softening. “Seriously, Brandon, these people need to see you steady. Grounded. Married to Mrs. Lefevre, whose grace under pressure makes us all look like amateurs.”

I glanced at him. “You rehearsed that line?”

“Only a hundred times. Look—Freya’s presence matters. People read into everything. If she’s not there, they’ll talk.”

“They always talk.”

“Yes, but we would rather they talk about your impeccable taste in wives instead of whispering about tension or instability.”

“Noted,” I said. I already knew he was right, of course. Kyle usually was when it came to PR moves. And while I hated mixing my personal life with corporate diplomacy, there were times—like now—when the line between the two blurred whether I liked it or not.

“Have you told her yet?” he asked, arching a brow.

“About the dinner? Not yet. She’s been… determined, lately.”

Kyle studied me for a second. “Determined how?”

“Just more quiet than usual. Thoughtful. Like her head is in another room even when she’s right next to me, I think this entire Bryan thing is making her think about a lot of things.”

“Could be nothing.”

“Or it could be everything.”

Kyle set his tablet down. “You think it’s always about Bryan?”

I nodded. “I ran into him the other day.”

“I heard.”

“Of course you did.” I gave him a pointed look. “I should’ve known the office gossip vine would get to you first.”

“Your name gets mentioned in a hallway and I get six text messages within the hour. It’s a gift.”

I shook my head, but the smile faded. “I don’t like that he’s around. I don’t like the way he looked at me. Like he thinks he is still going to win Freya over.”

“He’s a parasite, Brandon. You can’t let him crawl under your skin again.”

“I know.” I rubbed my temples. “But I also know how manipulative he can be. Especially with Freya.”

“She’s not the same woman she was when he got under her skin.”

“No, she’s stronger now.” I looked out the window. The skyline was smeared with the fading blush of sunset. “But strength doesn’t make you immune. It just means you know how to hide the bruises.”

Kyle was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Talk to her. Tonight. And bring her Thursday. Let the world see where you two stand.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I will.”

There was a knock on the glass door, and one of the junior staff popped their head in to ask about a missing invoice. Kyle handled it quickly, waving me off when I tried to stand. He was good at that—smoothing over the little fires so I could focus on the big ones.

As the office began to clear out for the night, I lingered in the conference room, looking down at the notes we’d made about seating arrangements, keynote timing, and photo ops. It all looked tidy, controlled, planned.

But the people behind it—me, Freya, Bryan—were anything but

The pieces were in motion. The stage was set. All that was left now was to see whether we could get through it without setting everything on fire.

I packed up my things, thinking of Freya’s soft laugh, the way she curled her feet under her on the couch, the guarded look she gave me sometimes like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I’d seen it too often lately.

Maybe this dinner party wasn’t just about work.

Maybe it was a chance to remind both of us what we were fighting for.

I took one last look at the guest list on Kyle’s tablet before heading out.

Mrs. Lefevre—plus one.

I planned to show up with her on my arm and leave with her hand still in mine.

No matter who was watching.