"It's the European investors," he muttered, thumb hovering over the screen. His voice had changed, firmer, clipped at the edges. "They won't wait."
Elin's stomach dipped. She could almost see the moment the softness drained from him, replaced by the polished authority he wore like a second skin. The CEO was back, and the man who had held her hand a heartbeat ago seemed to vanish behind the glassy armour of responsibility.
"Go," she said gently, forcing a smile even though a small ache settled in her chest. "Don't keep them waiting. I'll be fine here."
He hesitated, torn, his green eyes lingering on her as if weighing whether to stay. Then, in a rare moment of unguarded care, he leaned close, his hand brushing hers on the armrest. His voice dropped low, private. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Vivian will keep you company."
Before she could protest, the door opened and Vivian appeared as if summoned, her tablet tucked neatly against her chest. Her smile was the kind carved for boardrooms—measured, professional, but sharp enough to cut.
Axton squeezed Elin's hand briefly, the pressure warm and grounding, then rose. His tall figure disappeared through the glass doors, the sound of his shoes fading into the corridor until only silence remained.
The instant the latch clicked shut, the atmosphere shifted. The lightness he had brought into the room evaporated, leaving something cooler in its place.
Vivian moved with precision, setting the tablet down on the coffee table with a decisive tap. She crossed her arms, posture straight as a blade, and studied Elin as though she were a puzzle to be solved—or dismissed.
"So," Vivian said at last, her tone smooth, deliberate. "You're Elin Chen. The baker."
The word hung in the air, polished into something that wasn't quite a compliment.
Elin's fingers tightened around the hem of her cardigan. She forced her shoulders back, summoning the same quiet resilience she wore in her bakery when customers doubted her skill. She lifted her chin, offering a small smile.
"Yes. That's me."
Vivian's eyes slid over her again, this time slower, as if cataloguing every stitch of her cardigan, every flour mark she hadn't scrubbed off, every softness that didn't belong in a glass fortress like this. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the kind of smooth indifference only someone sharpened by years of boardroom battles could wield.
"You're... not what I expected."
The words landed like the brush of a blade, not deep enough to cut, but sharp enough to sting.
"Well," she said quietly, "people rarely are."
"You must understand," Vivian began, her tone measured, almost kind if not for the steel beneath it, "Mr Creighton is a man of stature. A global figure. He deals with people who shape economies, not... pastries."
The pause before the last word stretched long enough to hollow it out, leaving it fragile, disposable.
Elin's hands curled in her lap, nails biting into the fabric of her skirt. A part of her wanted to shrink into herself, to vanish into the couch, but her grandmother's voice threaded through the rising ache: Stand tall, even when you feel small.
Her pulse thundered, but when she spoke her voice was steady, if quiet. "I know who he is," she said, meeting Vivian's gaze. "And I also know he's the kind of man who stops to buy bread from someone like me. So maybe... stature isn't everything."
The faint narrowing of Vivian's eyes was almost imperceptible, but Elin saw it.
"Tell me," Vivian said suddenly, her tone shifting to something blunter, as if she had grown bored of the pleasantries. "Do you plan to keep seeing him?"
Elin blinked at the directness, her breath catching. "I... we're just friends," she said quickly. The words slipped out before she could stop them, soft and unconvincing even to her own ears.
Vivian's lips curved in a humourless arc. "Friends. Right." She set the tablet aside with a deliberate tap, then leaned back, her eyes never leaving Elin.
"Do you have any idea what kind of world you'd be stepping into if it were more than that? This—" her hand swept toward the floor-to-ceiling glass, the gleaming skyline, the office polished to perfection "—is not a fairy tale, Ms. Chen. It is pressure. Power. Headlines. And people like you... people who think love alone is enough... are swallowed whole."
Elin's chest tightened, a slow pressure blooming beneath her ribs. Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to draw in air. "I didn't come here for a fairy tale."
Vivian's laugh was low and soft, almost pitying, though her eyes glittered with something far less kind.
"Then what did you come here for? A distraction? A taste of luxury?" She leaned in slightly, her perfume sharp and clean, her voice dropping just enough to feel intimate, conspiratorial. "You're sweet. But sweetness doesn't last in this world. Men like Mr Creighton—men at his level—they don't choose mundane people like you. They choose women who can stand beside them without looking out of place."
The words cut, but Vivian wasn't finished. She crossed to the glass wall, her silhouette framed against the skyline. When she spoke again, her voice was honeyed, almost gentle, but every syllable dripped with venom.
"You may think you're different. Special. But you're just a passing comfort. Like a croissant with morning coffee. Delicious for a moment, forgotten by lunch."
The comparison struck harder than Elin expected. Her breath caught, her chest tight. She gripped the edge of her skirt, knuckles white, fighting the sudden sting in her eyes.
"I—" she began, but her voice cracked, small and unsteady. Whatever words she might have mustered dissolved before they reached her lips.
Vivian's smile widened just enough to feel like triumph, though her eyes had already dropped back to the glowing screen of her tablet. With a flick of her finger, she dismissed the conversation as though it had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Elin sat frozen, her pulse hammering so loudly she was sure it must echo in the glass walls around her. Her hands clenched in her lap, nails pressing crescents into her palms. She told herself not to let the sting show, not to give Vivian that satisfaction. But the heat in her chest was rising too quickly, pressing into her throat, blurring the edges of her vision.
If she stayed seated, if she let even one tear slip, Vivian would win.
Elin forced her body upright so quickly the legs of the chair scraped softly against the polished floor. "Excuse me," she murmured, her voice tight, almost breaking.
Vivian didn't even glance up. "Of course." The words were smooth, practiced, as though granting permission to leave her presence.
Elin swallowed hard, blinking furiously. She managed a stiff nod, then turned, every step toward the door heavier than the last. The cool handle bit into her palm, grounding her just enough to push the door open.
The hallway outside was silent, the carpet muffling her footsteps as she walked faster, almost running. She muttered something about fresh air under her breath, though there was no one there to hear it. The moment the office closed behind her, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, shoulders sagging.
But still, the words clung like smoke. A croissant. Forgotten by lunch.
She pressed her hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow, and not letting herself to crumble in the middle of his pristine glass-and-steel world.
Elin found herself rooted at the front desk, staring blankly at the veins in the marble floor as though they might give her something solid to hold onto. The steady clack of heels and the low murmur of business chatter swirled around her, each sound sharp, each movement purposeful. Everyone here seemed to belong.
Everyone but her.
Her chest tightened. She curled her fingers against her skirt, wishing she could fold herself into invisibility.
"Elin?"
The sound of his voice cut through the fog. She startled, her head jerking up.
Axton stood just beyond the stream of people, tall and magnetic, the polished mask of CEO still clinging to him, but when his gaze caught hers, it cracked instantly.
"You left my office," he said when he reached her, his voice quieter than the space around them, meant only for her. His eyes searched her face, sharp but unguarded. "Did something happen?"
Elin scrambled for composure, forcing her lips into what she hoped resembled a smile. It felt brittle. "No, I just..." Her fingers twisted the strap of her bag. "I didn't want to wait inside. It's too quiet in there."
The excuse sounded weak even to her own ears.
Axton studied her closely, green eyes flicking to the tightness in her jaw, the faint tremor in her hands. For a heartbeat she thought he might call her out, press until she broke open. But to her relief—and a pang of something else—he didn't.
"Come," he said softly, leaning down just enough for only her to hear. "You don't have to stay here."
The words wrapped around her like a promise.
Axton's hand lingered at the small of her back as he led her through the lobby. The polished marble and the hum of businesspeople faded behind them, replaced by the muted roar of traffic outside. He hailed his driver with a simple gesture, and within moments, the sleek black car was idling at the curb.
"Back to a world that makes more sense to you," he said, sliding the door open for her.
Elin hesitated for a fraction, her stomach fluttering. "I... thank you."
He gave a small, reassuring smile. "You don't have to thank me. I just... want to make sure you're okay."
The ride back to Bluebell Bakes was quieter than the one in, the city sliding past like a painting smeared with rain and sunlight. Elin stared out the window, feeling oddly lighter with Axton beside her, his presence a calm anchor. He occasionally glanced her way, green eyes catching hers in soft, unspoken reassurance.
When they reached the bakery, a small crowd had already gathered. A line of familiar faces, umbrellas folded, shivering slightly in the morning drizzle, waited patiently. The sight made her heart lift, panic easing into warm anticipation.
"Oh no," Elin murmured, realizing how late she'd kept her regulars. She fumbled with her keys, brushing rain droplets from her apron. "I need to open the doors!"
Before she could get the lock undone, a familiar, mischievous voice cut through.
"Oh, look who it is," Mrs. Tan's voice carried across the sidewalk before Elin could even step out of the car. "The famous Axton himself! Didn't think you'd come all the way just for bread, ah?"
Mrs. Lim chimed in, wagging a finger playfully. "I told you, Tan. He's hooked. Our ah girl, Elin, got him coming back every morning like clockwork."
Elin's cheeks burned as Axton stepped from the car, brushing raindrops from his shirt with casual ease. He gave the aunties a charming bow. "Ladies," he said smoothly, "always a pleasure to be recognized by such discerning patrons."
The aunties cackled. "Eh! He even knows how to be polite! I like him!" Mrs. Lim exclaimed, nudging Mrs. Tan who was already laughing.
Elin rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Yes, yes. Please, don't scare him off before I even open the doors."
Axton grinned, brushing off the attention with effortless charm. "I think I can survive the interrogation," he said, giving her a wink.
Elin hurried to unlock the doors, the smell of fresh bread and coffee spilling out to greet her waiting customers. The breakfast rush began almost immediately. Orders flew in, coffee cups clattered, and trays of pastries disappeared as quickly as she could bake them.
Axton, noticing the flurry, didn't sit idly by. He carried trays, poured coffee, and even offered a playful critique of her croissant folding technique, making her laugh despite the chaos.
At one point, he leaned close, voice low so only she could hear. "I want to take you out tonight. Spontaneous dinner. Just us."
Elin froze mid-task, flour still on her hands. "I... I'm a bit busy," she murmured.
He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Perfect. Spontaneity works best when you're distracted."
She let out a breathless laugh, muttering, "Fine. Yes." Then she returned to her work, cheeks burning.
Mrs. Tan leaned over the counter, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Did you hear that, Lim? He's taking her out! Our little baker!"
Mrs. Lim smirked. "I told you, Tan. This one's a keeper. She's got him wrapped around her finger already."
Axton caught Elin's eye, grinning. "You hear that?" he teased softly. "Seems I've got a fan club."
Elin laughed, the sound mingling with the hum of the bakery and the scent of butter and fresh bread. For a moment, the rush, the pressure, and even the memory of Vivian's cold words faded. Here, in the warmth of her bakery and the teasing of her friends, she felt like she belonged.
Elin wiped her hands on her apron, finally taking a small breath amid the rush. She glanced at Axton, who was carefully pouring coffee for a customer, sleeves rolled up, his hair still slightly damp from the drizzle earlier.
"You... don't have to do this, you know," she said, voice light but carrying an edge of concern. "You could be back in your office, being a proper CEO."
He paused mid-pour, looking up at her with a faint frown, green eyes catching the morning light. "I know, but... I'm worried about you. Seeing you run around like this, stressed, juggling everything... I don't like feeling helpless."
Elin laughed, a soft, teasing sound, brushing flour off her hands. "Worried about me? Really?"
He gave a small, almost sheepish smile. "Yeah. I can't help it."
She shook her head, mock exasperation colouring her tone. "Axton Creighton, CEO of half of Europe, and yet here you are, worrying about a baker like me. Ridiculous."
His grin widened at her words, leaning just enough closer that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Maybe it's ridiculous," he admitted, "but you're worth it."
Elin's heart fluttered, and she tried to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks. "Alright, alright. I get it. You care," she said, wagging a finger at him. "But now... back to work. Back to being a CEO. I can handle the bakery. You've got board calls, investors, Europe to conquer. Go!"
He feigned a sigh, mock disappointment tugging at his lips, before straightening with a smile that was half teasing, half fond. "Fine. Back to the empire, then. But if this bakery ever needs rescuing again, I'm coming back."
Elin rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her own lips. "I'll hold you to that."