The meeting room was bright with the glow of a projection screen, showing rising sales graphs and engagement numbers.
Vector sat at the head of the table, leaning back slightly in his chair, eyes fixed on the monthly chart in front of him. The line showed a gradual, steady spike. Belvana was finally catching fire in the market.
But Vector's mind wasn't fully in the room. His gaze was on the sales graph, yes… but his mind wasn't. It drifted back to Liana, her voice, her worry, that quiet fear she thought she hid. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He blinked, forcing his attention back.
Belvana's Marketing & PR head spoke.
"Sir, this current strategy is working perfectly fine. Belvana is trending positively. We're successfully influencing the people toward Belvana."
He blinked once, sharply. "That's great," he said, tone clipped and focused again. "But don't make it obvious we're directly competing with Novacore."
The room went still. A few exchanged glances.
"Tell a few influencers to feature smaller brands as well," Vector continued. His eyes were sharp enough to slice through arguments. "Blend Belvana into the noise. Make competition look natural."
"But sir—" the PR head began.
"Do as I say."
He didn't raise his voice, but the authority was cold and absolute.
They all straightened.
"We understand the market now," Vector said, leaning forward slightly, fingers tapping once on the table. "So shift the strategy. Keep Novacore on the list… but surround it with smaller names. Confuse the narrative. Make people compare."
His stare was unwavering. Strategic. Calculating. Almost ruthless.
"And I want huge Belvana billboards across all of Belvaria," he added. His tone deepened. "Every district. Every main road. I want the city breathing our brand."
A beat of silence.
"Make everyone's focus shift to Belvana," his voice cool, calm, "Create curiosity. Make people talk about Belvana. And do not reduce the fabric quality yet."
The PR head cleared his throat. "But sir… offering premium quality at an affordable price, plus large-scale advertisements, this will require heavy funding. Our profit margins may go negative."
Vector didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
"That's fine," he replied, tone dangerously steady. "We'll secure the funds. And whatever we already have, invest it fully."
Silence settled, heavy and tense.
He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with calculating sharpness.
"Once we earn the customers' complete trust… once we create a monopoly…" His lips curled into a cold, knowing smirk. "Then we can make the customers act however we want."
The marketing team exchanged uneasy glances. His demeanor, his confidence, was almost chilling. This was the Vector who could build an empire… or burn one.
The team nodded, quietly agreeing.
"Good," he said, pushing his chair back as he stood. The meeting was over the moment he decided it was.
He closed his file, straightened his coat.
"Meeting dismissed."
And without another look, Vector walked out of the conference room, his mind already racing ahead, plotting the next move.
"Is he real for this…?" one of the team members whispered, eyes glued to the screen.
"He is. That's how he built Vantare… and now Belvana's success… in such a short time," another said, half-amazed, half-exhausted.
"But Vantare isn't doing well, right?" the first one frowned.
"Yes," the second nodded. "Because he invested a huge chunk of Vantare's funds in the Middle East. And apparently… he bought a massive property in Italy under his wife's name. A birthday gift."
"And a whole mansion under his son's name," the third added. "That's why Vantare dipped these last few months."
"Is he crazy?" the first one asked, stunned.
"Kinda… when it comes to his wife," the second replied, lips twitching.
"But… there are rumors that he stole someone else's wife and married her," the third member whispered suddenly.
The other two shot up their heads, eyes wide.
"What are you saying?" they both gasped.
"I-I don't know! I just heard it from someone in the office," he said quickly, defensive.
"If you don't want to get fired, don't spread rumors like that," the second one warned, lowering his voice.
"I'm sorry… it just slipped out," the third muttered.
"Whatever," the first sighed, picking up his tablet. "Rich people are crazy anyway. Why bother about their life? Come on, let's just work on what he asked for."
And the three of them quietly went back to work.
Novacore Office
Kairo pushed open Sara's cabin door, expecting to see her, but the space was quiet. Instead, Zayn lay curled up on his small bed, toys scattered around him like fallen stars. His tiny lips were pushed into a sleepy pout.
Kairo's shoulders relaxed instantly. A soft, helpless smile tugged at his face. He walked over and sat beside the little bed, brushing Zayn's messy hair away from his eyes. The kid didn't stir, just breathed softly, and Kairo found himself smiling like an idiot, completely melted.
"Soda glass really made him pretty," he muttered.
Just then, the door clicked.
Sara walked in with her laptop. She paused when she saw him sitting there, looking at Zayn like he was the sweetest thing on earth. A smile tugged at her lips.
"What's up, baby…?" she asked.
He turned toward her, eyes soft. "I missed you guys," he murmured, leaning down to place a kiss on Zayn's forehead before standing and walking toward her.
She placed the laptop on her desk and sat down, barely. He climbed into her lap like an oversized baby girl.
She gasped, giggling, trying to push him. "Kairo! Get off me, asshole, you're heavy!"
But he didn't move an inch. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, settling comfortably, stubborn and clingy as ever.
"I missed my soda glass…" he mumbled into her shoulder.
Her whole body shook with laughter. "You're impossible," she whispered, trying again to push him off, but he stayed glued to her like a koala.
"My boss is so jobless nowadays," she teased.
He giggled softly against her neck, the sound warm. "I finished a mountain of work," he argued lazily. "And three meetings since morning. I deserve a break."
Her hands slipped into his hair automatically, combing through it, pulling him closer without even thinking. His weight on her lap didn't bother her anymore; it felt natural, grounding, familiar.
"How's your work going?" he murmured, his voice already thick with sleep.
"In progress," she sighed. "We're working on new PR strategies. Belvana's really winning with its dirty campaign… Just a few days more. We'll give them a counter."
He hummed, slow and low, eyes fluttering shut. His breath grew quieter, softer, brushing her collarbone. The exhaustion finally caught up with him.
Sara watched him for a moment, this powerful man who turned into a needy kitten the second he touched her. His lashes rested against his cheeks, his lips parted slightly, and her heart squeezed painfully.
She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his face. He didn't wake, but his arms tightened around her waist instinctively, pulling her closer.
A soft sigh escaped her. Sometimes she wondered how someone could be this childish and still carry the world on his shoulders. How could he seek comfort in her, even in the middle of serious storms?
Overwhelmed with love, affection, and that fierce protective instinct only he could trigger, she wrapped her arms around him tightly.
He hummed sleepily at the feeling, nuzzling against her like he belonged there, and he did, snuggling even closer as he drifted deeper into peace.
They stayed like that for a long, quiet moment, his breathing soft against her skin, her fingers still resting in his hair. The room felt warm, safe, almost too peaceful. Her own eyes grew heavy, fluttering shut as she held him, their breaths syncing without trying.
Then suddenly, he jerked awake.
His head snapped up, eyes darting around as if he'd teleported into the wrong universe. She blinked awake, startled. "What happened? You okay?" she asked, voice soft and groggy.
"Yeah…" he muttered, then glanced at his watch, and froze. "Oh shit."
She sat up straighter. "What?"
"I forgot. I had a meeting with one of the foreign clients." His eyes widened with panic. "Dad will kill me if I mess this up."
He scrambled off her lap, fixing his tie, running a hand through his already-messed hair. She just watched, confused by his sudden transformation from sleepy baby to stressed director.
He stole a quick kiss from her lips.
"See you later, baby…" he whispered before rushing out.
But halfway through the doorway, he stopped again, spun around, hurried back to her like he'd forgotten the most important part, and pressed another quick kiss on her lips, softer this time.
"I love you," he mumbled breathlessly.
The smile that bloomed on her face was instant and impossible to hide.
And with that, he finally dashed out of her cabin, leaving her blinking, smiling, and hopelessly in love with the chaotic storm of a man she married.