Mira never thought she'd start a Thursday morning with a cup of coffee in one hand, a croissant in the other, and three interns tripping over her rug while attempting to explain "brand synergy."
Yet, here she was, standing in the middle of Wolfe Holdings' newly redesigned lobby—now featuring subtle geometric gold accents that somehow managed to look modern without screaming 'I have a trust fund'—watching chaos unfold in slow motion.
"Do they know I own this place?" she muttered under her breath, amused, as an intern dropped a stack of sample fabrics. "Or do they just think I wandered in for the free coffee?"
Ethan, standing beside her in a tailored grey suit that probably cost more than some countries' GDPs, didn't say anything. He just smirked, a little mischievous, a little content. The kind of smirk that said: I built this. And we survived it.
