ログインAlessandro’s POV“Okay,” Micah says, clapping his hands, “this is not how I pictured our first official day.”I look around the office; half unpacked boxes, coffee stains on desks, and a new intern running around with two laptops and no clue which one belongs to him. “Oh, it is exactly how I pictured it. Pure chaos.”“Chaos with potential,” he corrects, moving a stack of folders from one chair to another.“Yeah, sure. That is what every madman says before the explosion.”He shoots me a look. “You are not helping at all.”“I am observing. With style.” I say with a grin.“Alessandro, your version of ‘style’ involves criticizing everything that breathes.” He simply states.“Not true. I like you.” I look at him, my heart swooning.He looks right back at me like he wants to smack me. “That is very debatable.”“Wow, no faith in your business partner? Harsh.” I put a palm on my chest feigning hurt.He glares at me. “Business partner?” he repeats. “I thought we were co-founders.”“We are. But
Micah’s POVI am presently at Duvall Enterprise to visit Sandra. The employees bow when I walk by, guess habits do die hard.I enter the elevator, get out and walk into Sandra’s office which was my former office and I was stupefied.“You redecorated the whole office.” I utter as I took a seat.“I did. You hate it?” She looks up from whatever it is she was doing before I stepped in.“No. It looks… alive.” I answer her.“I wanted something brighter. The old color scheme was too stiff.” She eyes me.But she did not stop talking. “That is because you designed it like a war room.”“And you are turning it into a garden.” I retorted.“Oh yeah. At least it is a peaceful garden. You are welcome.”“I am welcome for what? Well …You have gotten good at this.”“You sound surprised.”“Not actually surprised. Just proud.”“Proud? Of me? Wow, the world must be nearing its end.”“Do not ruin it. I am serious.”“So am I. I did not think we would ever stand in this office and talk without trying to stab
Alessandro’s POV“I still can’t believe we are doing this,” I whisper as the car slows in front of the Duvall mansion.Micah exhales like someone walking into a warzone. “It is just dinner. A normal regular dinner.”“Yeah. With your sis who happens to be my ex fiancée, your mom who hates me, and your dad fresh out of prison. Sounds relaxing.” I mutter, under my breathe.“Keep that sarcasm to yourself or she will throw you out before dessert.” Micah retorts.“I will take my chances.” I utter.Sandra turns around from the passenger seat, her tone sharp. “Can the two of you shut up before I change my mind about bringing you.”I smirk. “You love us too much to do that.”She rolls her eyes but does not deny it.When the car stops, Mrs. Duvall is already at the door, dressed in pearls and tension. Her posture is perfect, her eyes colder than marble.I do not understand how her car reached here before us since we all left the prison center at the same time.“Well,” Mrs. Duvall says, glancing
Sandra’s POV“Stop fixing my tie, Micah. I can do it myself.”“You say that every time, and every time you do it wrong.”“I am not a child.”“Then stop acting like one.”“I hate you.”“You love me.”Alessandro laughs from the couch. “If this is how you two act before a press conference, I am terrified to see what happens at board meetings.”I glare. “You do not get to talk, mister ‘I own five ties and still borrow Micah’s.’”He lifts his hands. “Fair.”Micah straightens my collar one last time, then nods. “There. The new CEO of Duvall Enterprise.”I exhale. “Feels weird hearing that.”“It suits you.”“You sure?”“Absolutely. And for the record, Dad already said he is proud of you.”“I know.” My voice softens. “He is the only one who always said that, even after everything.”“You earned it this time.”“Do not make me cry, idiot. I have mascara on.”“Then stop being sentimental and go conquer the media.”Later, at the conference hall.“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. It is an honor
Micah’s POV“Get up.”“It is Saturday, Micah.”“I know. That is why you should get up.”“Whatever you are planning, it is too early for it.”“Alessandro, trust me, you will thank me later.”“Last time you said that, we ended up in a warehouse full of fake leather samples.”“That was market research.”“That was trauma.”“Okay, okay… no fake leather this time. Just… greatness.”“I already do not like the sound of this.”“Shut up and wear something decent. You are not stepping into this place in pajama pants.”“Define decent.”“Anything that does not scream unemployed."“Wow, inspirational.”“Move it!”Thirty minutes later“Okay, now tell me where we are going.”“You will see.”“You have said that five times now.”“And you have complained six times, so technically I am winning.”“Micah.”“Relax, bro. You trust me, right?”“No.”“Ouch.”“Last time you ‘surprised’ me, we almost got banned from a café.”“That barista had an attitude.”“She had a knife.”“Semantics.”“Micah.”“Fine! I am tak
Alessandro’s POV“Okay, I am not gonna lie, this place smells like ambition and burnt coffee.”“You sure that is not just your cologne?”“Please. My cologne smells like success. This smells like someone has been trying to build a startup on four hours of sleep and cheap caffeine.”“That is… exactly what we are doing.”“Touché.”Micah drops his bag on the table and grins. “Still can’t believe it, though. Novaré. It is happening.”“Feels surreal, does it not? One idea, one revolutionary conversation in you’re the penthouse, and now…”“Now we are sitting in a co working space that costs more per month than my first car.”“Your first car was a death trap with wheels.”“It had character!”“It had smoke coming out of the hood.”“Tomato, tomahto.”I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You sure this is the right spot though? We could have gone for something smaller, less flashy.”Micah leans back, scanning the wide glass windows overlooking the city. “Nah. This is perfect. Look at that view.







