The following morning, in the QX boardroom, Noah Mitchell sat at the head of the table. His expression was a mask of cold neutrality, but the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the mahogany surface sounded like a countdown to an execution.

The manager presenting the quarterly proposal didn’t dare take a full breath, his pulse racing as he waited for the verdict. When his gaze drifted toward the head of the table, he locked eyes with Noah’s razor-sharp stare. He immediately looked down, terrified to sustain the contact.

"If you think the pond at QX is too small for you, then pack your things and leave," Noah said, his voice dripping with intimidation. He tossed a stack of documents onto the table with a sharp slap that echoed through the room. "Stop wasting my time with this garbage."

"No, no! Mr. Mitchell, I’ll revise it! I’ll fix it right away!" The project manager scrambled to gather the scattered papers, his hands trembling.

Noah shifted his gaze to the next person. "Marketing."

The marketing manager gulped, forcing down his nerves before beginning his report. "We’ve locked in our spring campaign slot, and we’ve booked an ad spot before the season’s hottest show on NBC. However, for the flagship store... the department stores are hesitant. They claim our brand is too new and lacks the necessary prestige, so they’ve rejected our applications for a permanent spot."

Silence descended upon the room. The sheer pressure radiating from the man at the head of the table made everyone squirm. Finally, Noah offered his directive.

"Marketing, take those promotional shots from yesterday, edit two of them, and post them on Twitter/X to officially announce our brand ambassador. Once we see the public response, go back to those department stores. Marketing Manager, you won’t come back to me with another rejection, will you?"

"No, sir. I’ll ensure we close the deal."

Noah’s voice carried a heavy, natural authority. With his stoic expression, he was the picture of unyielding discipline. The marketing manager was already sweating through his shirt.

Once the work was delegated, the suffocating atmosphere finally lifted as the meeting concluded. As soon as Noah strode out of the room, the rest of the team slumped in their chairs, exhaling in unison.

"That man’s presence is no joke."

"Tell me about it. To have that kind of dominance at his age? The man is a force of nature."

Evangeline, trailing behind them, allowed herself a small smile. She really had chosen the right business partner.

The marketing team worked fast. Once the official announcement hit Twitter/X in collaboration with Luna Hughes’s studio, their follower count surged by two million overnight.

***

Evangeline scrolled through the impressive backend data, beaming as she shared a high-five with Remi.

"Remi, Noah has paved the way. Now it’s all on us."

"Let’s do this!"

The design department went into a frenzy, working tirelessly to create different collections based on the spring theme, each tailored to a specific demographic. During her rounds, Evangeline reminded them, "Time is tight, but I don't want just quantity. If I see lackluster work, don't even bother sending it my way. Don't waste my time."

"Understood!" they replied in unison, throwing themselves back into their work.

Though the company was small, the pay and benefits were top-tier, and promotion was based entirely on merit. That was why everyone was so fiercely motivated.

After the workday ended, the trio gathered in the executive office to discuss their growth strategy. They didn't have any retail partners yet, and the store placements were still in limbo. Although they were prepared, the company was still running on the sporadic orders from their old atelier, and they were already starting to bleed money.

Remi looked worried. "Evangeline, the marketing push is going to cost a fortune, isn't it?"

"It’s fine. I’ll figure out the funding. We just need to grit our teeth and push through this phase."

"I'm sorry," Noah said, his voice low. "I can't help with the capital."

Remi feigned indignation. "Noah, we're all in the same boat now. Stop talking like an outsider!"

"Exactly," Evangeline agreed. "We're a power trio. We each play to our strengths to make this company unbreakable. I’m counting on you to be our spearhead, leading us in the right direction."

Trust is the greatest fuel for courage. As those words sank in, a surge of adrenaline filled Noah. It was the spark he needed to carve a path through the thorns.

"Fine," he promised, his eyes burning with resolve. "I will give this everything I have."

"Tomorrow, I’ll head over to SY Plaza myself to negotiate the lease."

SY Plaza was the largest department store in the city. The marketing manager must have been too intimidated to push; if they had dropped the right names, there was no way the store manager would have turned them away.

"Are you sure you can pull that off?" Noah asked.

Remi chuckled. "Noah, you don’t know? SY Plaza belongs to Evangeline’s husband."

"Ah. Well, I suppose it’s easy to stay cool when you’re leaning on a giant tree."

"Exactly!"

With a clear breakthrough in sight, the mood in the room relaxed.

When Marcellus arrived to pick her up, he heard the cheerful, easygoing laughter echoing from the office. As he stepped inside, he fixed a deep, piercing look on Noah. Noah caught the hint of hostility, bowed his head, and let out a faint chuckle. He hadn't expected the business world's own lion king to have a side like this.

"Marcellus, why didn't you just call me?"

"Can't I come up here myself?"

*Tsk.* Why was he being so sour again?

"I was just worried you were tired," she said, winding her arm warmly around his. "Remi, Noah, we’re heading out. See you tomorrow."

On the drive home, Marcellus couldn't hold it in any longer. "Evangeline, does that partner of yours have a girlfriend?"

Evangeline thought for a moment. "I don't think so. Why?"

"It’s nothing. He’s just… very capable."

"He is! He was a legend back at university. Handsome, top of his class—he had so many girls chasing after him!"

Listening to her rattle off praise, Marcellus’s face darkened instantly.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you like him too?"

"I like you!"

She looked up at him with a soft smile. Marcellus realized he was being unreasonable and immediately dropped the subject.

"Am I being annoying?"

He didn't know what was wrong with him. He felt so insecure. He knew his clinginess was grating, but he couldn't help himself.

Evangeline pulled him close, intertwining her fingers with his large, steady hand. "Once the company is up and running, I’ll make sure to spend more time with you. Don't be afraid. You can doubt anything you want, but never doubt my heart."

"I’m not blaming you, and I don’t doubt you. It’s just… I feel so empty inside when you're gone."

For the past six months, their relationship had felt like a rollercoaster. He was terrified—terrified that this fleeting happiness was just a dream he’d eventually wake up from.

Evangeline looked at the hollow sadness in his eyes and began to wonder if her stubborn drive to build this business was the right choice after all.

Back at Elysian Estate, she tossed and turned on the soft mattress. Despite being physically exhausted, her mind was crystal clear, refusing to let her sleep. She began to wonder: what was the point of this second chance at life?

No matter how she tried, she couldn't have it all. She wanted to live fully—to honor the dreams that had been cut short in her past life, to cherish the family she had lost, and to hold onto the lover she had almost missed. She had thought she could balance every plate, but now, the conflict was becoming impossible to ignore.

"Sigh."

Evangeline let out a long, weary breath. It was emotionally draining.

Marcellus stepped out of the bathroom and saw her lying there, wearing a look of profound distress. He stopped mid-towel-dry, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the cloth.

"Evangeline, am I putting too much pressure on you?"

"No, I’m just tired."

Marcellus sat on the edge of the bed and began gently massaging her temples. "Just do what you need to do. My little moods are easy to manage."

Evangeline laughed at his words, reaching out to playfully trace the muscles of his abdomen.

"Marcellus, you really are like a little trophy husband. You’re clearly hurt, but you’re still trying to pretend you’re a supportive, magnanimous partner."

"Well, if I’m hurting this much, are you going to spoil me?"

Evangeline flipped over and pinned him to the bed, eyeing him like a little troublemaker.

"Oh, I’ll spoil you. I’ll make sure to spoil you properly tonight."

...And just like that, the insecure man was easily calmed, his fur smoothed down once again.