Chapter 5: Storm Behind Glass Walls

The Stone Tower stood tall, its glass walls gleaming against the gray sky. Inside, on the topmost floor, silence filled the CEO's office except for the faint scratch of pen against paper.

Thirdie Stone sat at his broad mahogany desk, signing documents one after another. His posture was straight, his face unreadable. The golden pen glided with ease, but his eyes did not follow the words. He was watching the television mounted on the far wall.

On the screen, the morning news played.

"And here we see Thirdie Stone arriving at the gala last night with Agnes Valencia at his side. The two looked radiant together, drawing attention from the crowd. Speculation about their relationship continues..."

The camera caught him in a tailored black suit, Agnes shimmering beside him in emerald silk. She smiled at the cameras, elegant and confident. His hand rested lightly at her back, guiding her toward the entrance.

He looked every inch at the untouchable CEO.

But here, in his office, his jaw tightened. His grip on the pen paused. He did not see Agnes's smile he saw another face.

Kathalina.

Her quiet grace, the way she once stood beside him at events, slightly shy at first but always steady. She never forced a smile for the cameras; instead, she had this natural way of holding herself, calm and dignified. Back then, he always thought no one else could ever compare.

Now, she was gone.

Jeff, his assistant, stood nearby, holding a folder. He noticed his boss had stopped writing. His eyes flickered to the television, then back to Thirdie. But he said nothing. He never did. He knew when silence was safer.

The office door slammed open.

Pia, his mother, swept in. She was elegant in her cream-colored dress, her pearls glowing faintly against her throat. But her heels clicked sharp against the marble, each step carrying fury.

"Thirdie!" Her voice cracked through the air like thunder.

He set down his pen slowly.

"Mother."

"What are you doing?" she demanded, coming closer.

Her voice trembled, not just with anger, but with something heavier disappointment.

"You divorced her. You let her go. And now I see you parading with Agnes De Villa on the news? Are you trying to shame us? Or is this your idea of moving on?"

Jeff lowered his gaze. The tension was thick, sharp like broken glass.

Thirdie leaned back in his chair. His expression remained calm, but his knuckles pressed white against the armrest.

"Mother, lower your voice. This is not the place—"

"This is exactly the place!" Pia snapped.

"You think I don't know? I went to Kathalina's house. I wanted to see her, to comfort her after her mother passed. But she was gone." Pia's voice broke then, softer, aching.

"She didn't even say goodbye to me."

The silence stretched.

Thirdie looked down at the papers on his desk. The words blurred.

Pia took a step closer, her hand trembling as she placed it on his desk.

"Why? Tell me, Thirdie. Why did you let her go?"

His throat tightened. But his face......always his shield remained unreadable.

"I had no choice," he said quietly.

Pia's eyes burned.

"No choice? Don't lie to me. You could have fought for her. Instead, you sent her away."

Jeff's hands curled slightly at his sides. He had always known, maybe not every detail, but enough to understand the reason behind it all. Still, he never interfered. His boss's business was his own, and that included the matters of his personal life. But even with that distance, he had never seen his boss so cornered.

Thirdie rose from his chair, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. He walked past Pia and stood before the floor-to-ceiling window. The city stretched below, glittering but distant, a world that demanded strength.

"She was grieving her mother," he said finally. His voice was low, steady, but inside it was breaking.

"Her world was already heavy. Staying by my side would only destroy her further."

Pia stared at his back. "So, you left her to face that grief alone?"

"She wanted freedom," he said, almost to himself.

"She wanted space. And I... I couldn't give her peace while she was chained to me."

Pia's chest rose and fell sharply.

"Peace? Or safety for yourself?"

Her words struck him like a blade.

He closed his eyes.

Flashbacks flooded him. Their relationship had always been distant, quiet.... two people bound together by circumstance more than choice. And yet, in silence, her care found its way to him. The nights she would leave a cup of coffee by his desk, softly reminding him to rest. The way she'd bring food when he forgot to eat, setting it down without a word. Her eyes lingering on him when she was confused or sad, searching for answers he never quite knew how to give. And her smile......rare, fleeting, but there even in the smallest things. Those quiet gestures haunted him now, because they had spoken louder than any words.

His chest ached. He tightened his jaw, letting the weight of the memory settle like a stone inside him.

"I loved her," he whispered.

Pia froze. It was rare to hear him admit something so fragile.

Jeff looked up, startled. His boss's voice was cracked, almost human.

"I loved her enough to let her go," Thirdie continued, his hand pressing against the glass.

"Because I knew... the storm is coming. My life is not hers. She would suffer beside me. And I—" His voice faltered.

"I couldn't bear to see her broken because of me."

Pia's lips trembled. For the first time, she saw the truth in her son's eyes when he finally turned back to her. He was strong, yes...but shattered inside.

"Thirdie..." she whispered.

But he lifted a hand, stopping her. His walls went back up, the mask sliding in place.

"This discussion is over."

Pia's anger wavered, but she stepped back. She knew her son. He would not bend, not now. Still, she whispered,

"One day, you'll realize what you've lost. And I only pray it won't be too late."

She turned and left, her heels echoing down the corridor until the door closed behind her.

Silence fell again.

Jeff stood frozen, unsure if he should leave.

Thirdie walked back to his desk, but he didn't sit. He stared at the television once more. The news replayed the gala, Agnes at his side. But he wasn't watching her. He was remembering the night Kathalina once wore a pale blue gown, her hair softly curled, her hand trembling in his as they stepped out onto a red carpet.

That night, he had leaned closer, his voice low, almost offhand.

"You look... different tonight."

She had laughed nervously, glancing down at her shoes.

"I don't know how to walk in these heels."

His lips curved barely, a ghost of amusement no one else would notice.

"Then take my arm. It'll be easier."

Now, the memory felt like glass in his chest.

"Sir?" Jeff's voice broke the silence.

Thirdie blinked.

"Should I... turn off the television?"

"No."

His voice was rough.

"Leave it."

Jeff nodded slowly, then set the folder on the desk.

"Sir... do you want me to find her?"

Thirdie's eyes darkened. For a moment, he wanted to say yes. To send his people, to search every corner until he could hold her again. But he clenched his fists.

"No," he said firmly.

"She's better without me."

Jeff hesitated, then bowed his head.

"Understood."

The door closed behind him.

Alone, Thirdie stood by the window again. The city lights blurred as his vision clouded. He pressed a hand against the glass, his reflection staring back at him......powerful, untouchable, but hollow.

"Be safe, Kathalina," he murmured.

"Even if it's not with me."

And the storm he carried inside raged on, silent but unrelenting.