The boardroom was filled with the low hum of conversation as the directors arranged their files and adjusted their suits. At the far end of the polished oak table, Adrian Wolfe entered with a calm yet commanding air. His usual stern expression was replaced with something lighter — almost pleasant.
"Good morning, gentlemen… ladies," he greeted, his tone unusually warm. A few eyebrows lifted in surprise. Adrian rarely bothered with pleasantries.
The meeting began, charts and numbers flashing on the large screen.
Chief Financial Officer: "As of this quarter, revenues have grown by 18% compared to last year, largely due to our international expansion."
Adrian (smiling faintly): "Eighteen percent? Impressive. That's a win for us. But let's not get comfortable. I want to see us push toward 25% next quarter."
His words were firm, but there was no sting in them. The board nodded, encouraged instead of cowed.
Head of Marketing: "The new luxury campaign has gained traction in Europe. Social media engagement is up by 40%, and we're seeing direct sales reflect that growth."
Adrian (leaning forward, amused): "Good. Finally, marketing is earning its keep." The joke was light, and for once, laughter filled the boardroom instead of icy silence.
Head of Operations: "On logistics, supply chain disruptions have reduced. We've cut delays by nearly half."
Adrian (chuckling softly): "Music to my ears. For once, we won't have angry investors breathing down our necks."
The meeting went on — discussions of revenue streams, new investments, workforce expansions, and even philanthropic outreach. Normally, Adrian would have scolded two or three directors by now, but today he encouraged them, correcting with a measured voice, adding wit to lighten the heavy numbers.
By the time the charts flicked off, the directors exchanged glances of disbelief.
When Adrian stood to close the meeting, he added, "Ladies and gentlemen, you've done well. This company isn't built by one man — it's built by all of us. Let's keep moving forward."
The applause that followed was genuine — another first in Wolfe & Co. board history.
As Adrian left, a cluster of board members huddled near the door.
"Did you see that? He actually praised us."
"And cracked jokes too. I almost fell out of my chair."
"It's like he's a different man entirely."
"Different? Happier. Softer. Someone's behind this."
"Rumor has it — the janitor girl. Talia."
"The janitor?!" (They chuckled) "Unbelievable."
"Believe it or not, she might be the one taming the lion."
Their whispers carried a mix of amusement and admiration; with some even saying they liked the change.
After the board meeting wrapped up and the office slowly thinned out, Adrian leaned back in his chair, still thinking of Talia. She had worked silently all day, efficient as ever, yet every now and then he caught her eyes lifting toward him, her gaze soft but quickly withdrawn.
As evening fell, Adrian sent a discreet message through his secretary: "Tell Talia to bring me the final files… and meet me upstairs."
Confused but obedient, Talia carried a folder up the long stairwell to the company rooftop. The heavy steel door creaked open, and the city lights spilled into view — glittering against the fading orange of the sunset.
Adrian stood near the railing, hands in his pockets, the wind tugging at his hair. For once, he didn't look like Wolfe & Co.'s feared CEO. He looked like a man stripped down to his heart.
"Come here," he said softly.
Talia walked over, hesitant. "Why did you bring me here, sir?"
He turned, smirking faintly. "There you go again with sir. One day, I'll forbid you from calling me that."
She laughed nervously, clutching the file tighter. "Old habits… they're hard to break."
He took the file from her hand, set it on the nearby table, and then looked back at the skyline. "Do you see this city?" His voice dropped low. "It's loud. It's greedy. It's cruel. I've built walls my whole life just to survive in it. But standing up here…" He paused, his throat tightening. "…it feels like peace. Like maybe… I don't have to fight all the time."
Talia stared at him, surprised by the crack in his voice. "You miss your mother, don't you?"
Adrian swallowed hard, the memory stabbing at him. "Every day. She was the only softness in my life. The only one who never asked for anything but gave me everything." He blinked fast, his eyes shining. "I'd give up every deal, every dollar, just to have her back for one more evening."
Moved, Talia's hand brushed his arm gently. "My parents… they're still alive, but they've struggled so much. There were nights we went without food. Times they broke their backs working, just to keep me in school. I know what it is to feel helpless… but I also know what it is to be loved in sacrifice."
The two of them stood quietly, the weight of their stories weaving a bond stronger than words.
Adrian turned to her fully, his eyes deep, searching. "Talia…" His voice was husky now. "…I don't want you to carry pain anymore. Not hunger, not fear, not loneliness. As long as I'm breathing… you will never suffer again."
Her lips trembled, tears spilling down her cheeks. But before she could speak, Adrian pulled her gently into his chest. She sank into him, and for a long time they stood in silence — two broken souls holding on to the one place that felt safe.
Above them, the night sky stretched endless. Below them, the city pulsed with noise and chaos. But on that rooftop, there were only them.
The rooftop wind tugged gently at Talia's hair, carrying the scent of the city's night air. She stood close to Adrian, her tears drying slowly against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong, almost like a vow.
After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. "Talia…" His voice was husky, almost trembling. "…there's something I need to say, and I don't say this easily."
Her eyes widened, nervous. "What is it?"
Adrian exhaled, as though he'd been carrying the words for years. "I've lived my life building walls, hiding behind power, money, and rules. But since you walked into my world… you've undone me in ways I can't explain. You've made me laugh. You've made me human again." He paused, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "…And I love you."
The words lingered in the air, heavy, raw, almost unbelievable.
Talia froze, her breath catching. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break her ribs. For a second, she could only stare, wide-eyed, at the man who had been both her tormentor and her secret dream.
Her lips parted, shaky at first, but then steady with truth. "Adrian… I love you too."
A smile — genuine, unguarded, boyish — broke across Adrian's face. Without another word, he cupped her face and kissed her, slow and reverent, sealing the confession under the open sky.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them smiling through their tears.
"From now on," Adrian whispered, "you're mine. And I swear to you, nothing and no one will take this away."
The city lights blinked beneath them, almost like witnesses to their vow.
The rooftop moment lingered in their hearts as they both descended the stairs back into the building. By now, most of the staff had left, their voices echoing faintly in the quiet corridors.
At the ground floor, Adrian's driver was already waiting. Talia stood near the glass doors as Adrian turned to her one last time. His smile was soft, almost secretive.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his eyes saying more than his words.
She nodded shyly. "Goodnight, sir… I mean—Adrian."
That made him grin, and he stepped into the car. Talia waved as the sleek vehicle drove out of the compound, her chest warm with the memory of the rooftop confession.
The compound grew still again. Just as she turned to retreat back inside, a shadow appeared behind her. She nearly jumped when Alex bumped into her shoulder.
"Oh—sorry," he muttered quickly, hands raised in mock innocence. His eyes flickered over her face, too intently. "Didn't mean to startle you."
Talia frowned, uncomfortable. "It's fine."
He let out a short laugh. "I guess I was the last one to leave. I had a lot to finish up."
She forced a polite nod, already edging toward the stairs. But then his tone shifted, casual yet probing: "So… you'll be around all night?"
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing her expression. The question felt wrong, heavy. She drew herself up, her reply sharp and cold. "That's none of your business."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and strode off toward her quarters. m watched her go, the polite mask slipping from his face for a second — replaced by something darker, calculating. Then, quickly adjusting himself, he headed toward his car and drove out too.
From her window upstairs, Talia watched the taillights fade into the night, unease settling in her chest. She couldn't explain it, but something about Alex felt… off.