The morning came like thunder.
Before Elira had even taken her seat, the internal company memo hit inboxes across all Lancaster Enterprises branches.
> Official Statement from the CEO
To all valued employees,
Effective immediately, I wish to clarify personal developments that have surfaced in recent days. I, Alexander Lancaster, am in a committed relationship with Elira Summers, a current employee. This relationship began after full disclosure to Human Resources, and all protocols have been followed to ensure professionalism within the workplace.
We value transparency, and I assure you this has not and will not affect company operations or decision-making.
Thank you for your continued dedication.
—Alexander Lancaster
CEO, Lancaster Enterprises
Silence blanketed the office after that.
No Slack pings. No whispers. Just the sound of mouse clicks and printer beeps, the quiet thrum of fluorescent lights. It was the kind of silence that came before an earthquake.
Elira read the statement three times, then looked up to find Yuna standing in her doorway.
"You okay?" Yuna asked gently.
Elira nodded. "He said he was going to make it official. I just didn't think… like this."
Yuna stepped in and closed the door behind her. "Well. That's certainly one way to drop a bomb."
"I didn't expect him to say it himself," Elira whispered. "He could've stayed silent. Let the rumors die out."
Yuna leaned against the desk. "And let them control the narrative? That's not Alexander. He doesn't run."
"I know. But now…"
"Now they have no ammo. He told the truth. No scandal. Just… facts."
Elira managed a small smile. "You make it sound so simple."
"It's not. But you two already walked through fire. This?" She gestured around the room. "This is smoke."
---
At lunch, the stares were sharper.
People glanced away when she looked up, but Elira could feel the shift. The air buzzed not with curiosity now, but judgment.
"That's her."
"Barely older than his kids."
"CEO's pet project."
Elira picked at her salad, appetite gone. She knew these voices. Not the people—they didn't matter—but the tone. The same tone her mother once used when she tried to marry her off at thirteen. The same voice the world used when it tried to tell a girl she was too much, too young, too different.
She breathed through it.
Then Yuna slid into the seat beside her. "You know you can move tables, right? Or better—offices."
Elira smiled. "Why should I move? I've done nothing wrong."
"Exactly. So eat like a queen. You earned that salad."
Across the cafeteria, one of the regional directors, Claudia, stood and walked directly to their table. A tall woman with severe cheekbones and an expensive bob, Claudia's heels clicked like a metronome.
"Elira," she said, nodding.
Elira stood, unsure.
"I was against this," Claudia began. "The relationship. The optics. The risk. But after twenty years of watching Alexander live like a ghost, I have to say…"
A pause.
"You've brought him back to life. And that matters."
Elira's eyes widened. "I—I don't know what to say—"
"Just keep him smiling," Claudia said. "We need that version of him."
Then she walked away.
Yuna let out a low whistle. "That woman eats interns for breakfast. And she just complimented you. Hell must've frozen."
---
Upstairs, Alexander faced his own storm.
The board of directors had convened an emergency meeting. Half of them were concerned about liability. The other half worried about the brand. And one—Thomas Vell, a long-time investor—saw an opportunity.
"You understand what this looks like, don't you, Alexander?" Thomas asked, his tone slick with feigned concern. "A 40-year-old CEO in a relationship with a woman nearly half his age? A subordinate, no less."
"She's more than that," Alexander replied calmly. "And I've followed every protocol. HR has documentation."
"That doesn't change the perception," another board member added. "Investors talk. Clients speculate."
"And what would you have me do?" Alexander asked coolly. "Break off a genuine relationship to satisfy gossip?"
"No one's saying that—" Thomas began.
"But you're implying it." His voice hardened. "Lancaster Enterprises isn't built on lies or fear. It's built on strength, on vision. I won't sacrifice either for appearances."
There was a long silence.
Then Thomas leaned forward. "Then be prepared for consequences if the media runs wild."
Alexander didn't blink. "I've weathered worse."
---
That night, Elira returned to the Tagaytay estate again. The driver met her at the office and brought her straight to the private home with a security pass. This time, she didn't hesitate stepping through the door.
Alexander was waiting in the living room, a fire crackling despite the warm air.
"You read the board's reactions?" he asked.
She nodded. "I read enough."
"They won't force my hand," he said. "But some of them want to. Especially Vell."
"Should we lie low again?"
"No," he said. "We go forward."
Elira sat beside him, tucking her legs under her. "This morning… when I saw the email, I panicked. I thought the whole world would come crashing down."
"Did it?"
"No," she said. "But it wobbled."
He reached for her hand. "I'll be your balance."
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "This morning I was scared. But now? I'm proud."
"Of what?"
"Of you. Of us. Of not hiding."
He kissed the top of her head. "Then tomorrow, let's go in together."
She looked up. "You sure?"
"I want the world to know. You're not a secret. You're my heart."
---
The next day, they arrived together.
Not late. Not early. Just on time.
The lobby hushed when they walked through. Elira in a soft blue dress and flats. Alexander in his usual gray three-piece suit. Their fingers didn't touch, but they walked close—close enough to silence everything else.
The receptionist smiled nervously.
The interns stopped pretending to sort papers.
Even the coffee guy froze mid-pour.
Yuna met them on the second floor, grinning.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. CEO," she teased.
Alexander raised a brow. "We're not married."
"Yet," Yuna winked.
Elira flushed.
They passed the marketing department. One of the younger employees, a girl with dyed-pink hair and bold eyeliner, offered Elira a quiet thumbs up.
That was the moment it changed.
Not fully.
Not for everyone.
But it was a start.
By noon, the gossip had slowed. The company newsletter focused on quarterly targets instead of office drama. The world didn't end. It just… adjusted.
That evening, Aria called.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"I survived the gladiator ring," Elira joked.
Aria laughed. "Well, you looked stunning. Aiden saw the security footage. He said Dad looked like he walked out of a K-drama."
"Tell him to keep his commentary to himself."
"Too late. He's already editing memes."
Elira rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled.
Aria grew serious. "Thank you for not giving up."
Elira blinked. "On what?"
"On us. On Dad. On being brave enough to return."
Tears burned behind her eyes.
"Some loves," she whispered, "are worth coming back for."
---
Later that night, Alexander and Elira stood in the garden—where lilies bloomed under the moonlight, and a soft breeze rustled the tall grass.
"This is where I first danced with her," Alexander said quietly.
Elira turned to him. "With me."
He smiled. "Yes. With you."
She stepped closer. "Then dance with me again."
And in that quiet, sacred place, they swayed together. No music. No audience. Just the rhythm of old memories and new beginnings.
---
End of Chapter 11