"There's something fishy going on, I'm telling you!" Joey perked up, plopping himself right on Blaze's desk. Hugging the monitor like it was a precious secret, he leaned in and teased, "Even the girls at the front desk are talking about it. The boss has been going home earlier and earlier every day. Now they're asking if you're eating dinner at home. Don't tell me… you've got someone hidden away, and you're not even sharing with your brothers?"
Blaze shot him a cold glance. With one push of his shoulder, Joey slid off the desk, yelping in protest. Just then, the assistant stepped in to announce that the car was ready. Blaze didn't spare Joey another look as he strode out of the office.
Thanks to Blaze's investment, MAPLE co. could finally breathe again, and the crushing weight on Cecilia's shoulders had eased—if only a little. She'd planned to use the rare free afternoon to visit her father in the hospital, but just as she stepped out of the building, her phone buzzed.
"What? The rival group sent people to negotiate the project in person?"
Hadn't Blaze said the contract was already signed? Why were they still negotiating?
"They're already downstairs, Ms. Cecilia. We don't know what's going on. Please come back, quickly."
Left with no choice, Cecilia turned the car around and rushed back. She hurried straight into the meeting room—only to freeze when she saw a familiar figure.
"You?!"
Blaze himself was sitting at the negotiation table. What was he planning this time?
Before she could get an answer, the female manager carrying tea stumbled dramatically and fell against Blaze. The tray clattered, tea spilling across his suit. Instantly, every pair of eyes in the room turned toward them.
"S-sorry! I'm so sorry, Mr. Diego!" The woman clung to him, trying to rise, but whether by accident or by design, her ample chest kept pressing against Blaze's torso. Her blouse hung so loose that even the dark lace beneath was on full display. She pouted pitifully. "I can't stand up, my legs are too weak… what should I do?"
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Blaze's expression darkened visibly, his eyes glinting with icy fury. With a sharp twist of his body, he flung the woman aside like she was nothing.
"Is this how your company entertains its guests?" His voice was like a blade, cold and merciless.
Cecilia froze, unable to believe the audacity of her subordinate.
Her own employee had just thrown herself at Cecilia's husband, right in front of her. Was she supposed to be furious—or blame herself for choosing the wrong people to trust?
"Take Diana… take her out!" Cecilia stammered, her voice almost breaking. Blaze's eyes were on her, sharp and terrifying, as if she had been the one spilling tea and pawing at him. But it wasn't her fault!
"What's wrong, Miss Spark?" Blaze shook out his soaked jacket, lips curved in a mocking smile. "Am I to assume you don't plan on taking responsibility for this mess?"
"I'll have someone bring you a new suit right away, Mr. Diego," Cecilia rushed to say.
But when his assistant tried to hand over a handkerchief, Blaze stopped him. His gaze never left Cecilia. "My time is precious. I don't waste it changing clothes. Why don't you clean it for me instead?"
Her brows twitched. Of course he wouldn't let her off so easily. Still, for the sake of the investment project, she could only swallow her pride. She took the handkerchief and followed him into the office's side room.
The door closed with a thud.
Before she could even blink, she was pinned against the wall. His arm locked around her waist, his tall figure looming over her. "What's this? Another woman throws herself at your husband and you're not the least bit angry?"
Even if she was, what right did she have to say so? Their marriage was nothing more than a deal. Blaze must just be looking for an excuse to laugh at her again.
The intimate posture made her flustered. She tried to wriggle free, only for him to press closer. When she tilted her head, their noses nearly brushed. Her cheeks heated. "Is Mr. Diego here to put me on trial?"
From this angle, Blaze could see the pale curve of her neck, the faint blue veins beneath her skin. Memories of that night surged back, and his gaze darkened.
But in the end, he merely tugged her collar closed and let her go.
This was still an office, after all. There were limits.
Cecilia let out a shaky breath and took a step back. She reached forward with the handkerchief, dabbing at his jacket. She barely wiped twice before his hand caught hers.
"Enough. Put it down." His voice was low, commanding. "Come have dinner with me."
She braced for another trap, but to her surprise, it really was just dinner. They went to a quiet Japanese restaurant downstairs. Blaze ordered an entire table of warm dishes, knowing her stomach couldn't handle raw food.
Halfway through the meal, her phone rang. A strange number flashed on the screen. Dread curled in her chest. She shot a glance at Blaze—he was sipping his soup—and slipped away to a corner to answer.
It was Bruno.
"So your father's not dead after all. Feeling happy?"
Cecilia's blood ran cold. She covered the receiver, scanning the restaurant nervously before snapping, "You'd better turn yourself in right now, or you won't live to regret it!"
"Hahaha… You think you can fight me?" His cruel laughter made her grip the phone tighter.
She kept her voice low, cautious, afraid someone would overhear her threats. But from Blaze's angle, all he saw was her whispering in secret, eyes darting, expression tense.
Why was she being so careful?
What call did she need to hide from him?
Vincent?
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He downed the entire jar of plum wine, his gaze dark.
When Cecilia returned, her face was pale. She didn't explain a thing. She didn't even try.
Was it because Vincent already knew about their marriage? Was her mood so heavy because of him?
Blaze's hand tightened around his cup. His voice came out cold and edged with jealousy.
"Tell me, Cecilia… why did you divorce?"