FAZER LOGINNEVEAHThe decision came at 4:17 on Thursday afternoon.I was in my office at Sterling Holdings, halfway through reviewing a quarterly investment report, when Olivia walked in without knocking.That alone told me something had happened.She never forgot to knock.She simply didn't bother when she had news she thought couldn't wait.She stood in the doorway with her tablet in one hand and a smile she was trying unsuccessfully to hide.I lowered the report."What?"She walked in."Calderon."I sat up."What about it?""The committee has made their decision."For a second, I didn't breathe.The last few days had been filled with revisions, presentations, questions, counterarguments and enough financial projections to make anyone question their life choices. Both Sterling Holdings and Blackwood Group had submitted strong proposals, and neither side had been given any indication of where the committee was leaning.I had told myself repeatedly that I didn't care about the outcome until the
NEVEAHThe first thing I learned about being married to Sebastian Blackwood was that marriage did not make him any less irritating.If anything, it had given him access to a whole new range of opportunities.He could now irritate me before breakfast, during breakfast, after breakfast and occasionally from another room without even speaking.This morning, for example, I was standing in the kitchen at seven-thirty, staring at the coffee machine with the expression of a woman who had been personally betrayed by modern technology.The machine was making a noise.Not a normal noise.A suspicious noise.I pressed the button again.Nothing happened.I pressed it a second time.The machine whirred, clicked and then stopped."Don't."I turned around.Sebastian stood in the doorway wearing dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair was still slightly untidy, which was probably the closest he ever came to looking as though he'd been dragged unwillingly into
SEBASTIANThere were certain things marriage was supposed to change.Your address, apparently.Your surname, in some cases.The number of people who suddenly felt entitled to ask deeply personal questions about your private life.What marriage was not supposed to change was the way you conducted business.At least, that had been my assumption.Sterling Holdings remained Sterling Holdings. Blackwood Group remained Blackwood Group. Neveah remained my wife at home and my competitor everywhere else.Simple.Practical.Except that nothing about the arrangement had felt particularly simple since we returned from Príncipe.I arrived at Blackwood Group after the Calderon bidding event with six messages waiting on my phone. Five concerned the proposal. One concerned the press.The press message came from our head of communications.They're asking whether the Sterling-Blackwood rivalry remains active now that you're married.I read it twice before locking my phone.People had apparently decided
NEVEAH The first morning of being married and employed by my own company began with a fight over the bathroom. Not a serious one. Not even an argument worth remembering. Just Sebastian standing outside the bathroom door at seven in the morning with the irritating calmness of a man who had apparently forgotten that other people existed. I opened the door halfway. He was already dressed. Dark trousers. White shirt. Jacket folded over one arm. His hair was neat, his watch already fastened, and he looked irritatingly prepared for the day. "You've been in there for twenty minutes." I stared at him. "Good morning to you too." "I have a meeting at eight-thirty." "So do I." "Then we're both late." "I wasn't aware the bathroom belonged to you." "It doesn't." "Good." I closed the door. His voice came through it. "We have two bathrooms." "I know." "Then why are you using mine?" I opened the door again. "Because mine is being cleaned." He stared at me. "By whom?" "I don
NEVEAHReality returned approximately forty minutes after we landed.I should have known something was wrong when I saw all four parents waiting for us at the airport.Not one or two of them.All four.They were standing together near the arrivals area with the suspiciously cheerful expressions of people who had already agreed on something and had absolutely no intention of telling us what it was.I stopped walking.Beside me, Sebastian stopped too.He glanced at me, then at our parents."Do you see what I see?""Unfortunately."My father lifted a hand and waved as though this were a perfectly ordinary airport reunion and not the beginning of whatever parental conspiracy had been developing while we were on the other side of the world."Welcome home!"My mother reached me first and pulled me into a hug."How was the flight?""Fine.""Did you sleep?""A little.""Did you eat?""Yes.""Good. Come on. We're taking you home."I pulled back."Which home?"She smiled."Don't worry about tha
SEBASTIANThe holiday was ending sooner than I expected.I realised it that morning while sitting on the terrace with a cup of coffee, staring at the stretch of ocean beyond the trees. Seven days had somehow passed without a board meeting, a financial report, a phone call demanding a decision, or someone from our families asking whether we had finally started behaving like a married couple. It had been seven days of beaches, long breakfasts, boat trips, arguments over absolutely unnecessary things, and one rather unwelcome reminder that privacy was apparently becoming a luxury even on a small island in the middle of nowhere.Across from me, Neveah was scrolling through her phone with an expression that suggested she was personally offended by whatever she was reading."Don't tell me you're working."She didn't look up. "I'm not.""You're staring at your emails.""I'm deleting them.""That's still work.""I'm deleting them because I'm not working."I considered that for a moment. "That







