Two days after the bakery photo hit the headlines, Serena found herself sitting in one of Elias's boardrooms, the kind with polished walnut tables and a view of the city skyline that made everything below look insignificant. She didn't want to be here—not really—but Elias had insisted.
"It's just a meeting," he'd said that morning, fastening his cufflinks while she sipped her coffee."Meetings with people who already think I don't belong," she had replied."They'll learn otherwise."
Now, seated beside him at the far end of the table, Serena could feel the weight of the stares. Some of the board members were polite enough to hide their curiosity. Others didn't bother. She caught whispers, darted glances, the quiet rustle of papers when her name came up in conversation.
Elias conducted himself with his usual calm authority, guiding the meeting through quarterly projections and upcoming acquisitions. But the moment the discussion shifted to his expansion into the boutique hospitality market, one of the older board members leaned forward, eyes on Serena.
"And this… bakery venture," he said, his voice smooth but edged. "It's a charming story for the press, but surely not where our resources should be going?"
Elias's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Serena spoke. "It's not your resources," she said evenly. "It's mine. I didn't ask for your investment, and I wouldn't take it if offered."
A ripple of discomfort passed around the table. Elias glanced at her, something like pride flickering in his eyes before he turned back to the man. "Serena's bakery is thriving. And while it's not a company asset, I value its success as much as I value any of ours."
After the meeting, in the elevator, Serena crossed her arms. "You could have answered for me."
"I could have," Elias agreed, pressing the button for the penthouse. "But you didn't need me to."
She studied him, half-annoyed, half-grateful. "You put me in that room knowing they'd test me."
"I wanted them to see who you are," he said simply. "Not who they think you are."
That night, Serena stayed late at the bakery, kneading dough in rhythmic motions that helped bleed away the tension. Elias showed up just before closing, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled back.
"You work too much," he murmured, leaning against the counter.
"So do you."
He pushed off the counter, walking around until he was behind her. She felt his hands rest lightly on her hips, his breath warm against her neck. "I didn't bring you into my life to keep you in the shadows," he said quietly.
Serena's hands stilled on the dough. "And I didn't marry you to be part of a company strategy."
His hands tightened slightly, but his voice stayed soft. "Then let's make sure neither of us forgets that."
She turned to face him, their eyes meeting in the low kitchen light. And though nothing about their world was simple, in that moment, the boundary between business and whatever they were building felt clear—if only for the night.