The next morning, Mio stood by the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in her hands, her expression unreadable. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm streaks across the marble floor, but her face remained as calm and unmoved as ever.
Claude entered the room, perfectly dressed in his tailored black suit, adjusting his cufflinks like the world revolved around him. His usual confidence radiated effortlessly — the kind that could make any boardroom fall silent, yet for Mio, it was just another reminder of how annoyingly composed he always was.
"Morning," Claude greeted, his voice smooth, his tone casual as he reached for his watch.
Mio didn't answer immediately. She took a slow sip of her coffee, then turned her eyes toward him with a flat, almost emotionless stare. It wasn't angry, it wasn't annoyed — just coldly neutral.
Claude blinked, sensing something was off. "What's with the look?" he asked, walking closer, his brow slightly furrowed.
