Kairo sat at the head of the conference table, shoulders straight, expression sharp enough to slice through the heavy silence. Sara stood near the screen, presenting the new PR and marketing strategy for Novacore. Her tone was crisp, confident, strictly professional.
"For the last few months, Belvana targeted Novacore directly," Sara explained, clicking to the next slide. "And that attack genuinely affected our brand reputation."
Kairo's jaw flexed, remembering those weeks all too well.
"But lately," she continued, "they've shifted their strategy. They're attacking us alongside several other small brands. We still haven't figured out the exact intention behind this shift… but the damage from their earlier campaigns has left a mark on our existing customer base."
Kairo exhaled slowly. He hated hearing it, but he needed to.
"So we've come up with a few new strategies, sir," Sara said.
Kairo nodded. "Go ahead."
Sara changed the slide. "The first one involves launching new designs," Sara said. "But instead of a single drop, we plan to split it into two—"
Kairo frowned slightly. "Two?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, unfazed, maintaining her flawless professional posture.
Selena, sitting to the side, glanced between them, how rigid they both suddenly were, how carefully they avoided slipping into their usual warmth. They looked like strangers pretending not to be stupidly in love. She pressed her lips together to keep the smile from breaking out.
Only these two could switch from domestic cuddles to corporate coldness this fast.
Sara continued without hesitation.
"One section will target the young crowd," Sara explained, clicking to the next slide. "who love Vibrant fashion, bold colors, playful patterns. Since Halloween is nearby, we can launch a Halloween Week trend, give them something fun to latch onto."
Kairo leaned forward slightly, attention sharpening, interest lighting up his face.
"And the second?" he asked.
Sara smiled a little, clicking to the next slide.
"And the second section," she continued, "is for the youngsters who prefer a classy, sophisticated look. Soft–bright color mixes, elegant silhouettes… still with a Halloween touch, but subtle. Stylish. Clean."
Kairo hummed in approval, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Good. And about PR?" he asked.
"And regarding PR and marketing," Sara said, moving to the next point. "We've reached out to a few influencers, well-known ones with genuine engagement and loyal followers. They don't promote random brands just for money. We handpicked six of them who have already agreed to associate with Novacore."
But Kairo's fingers tapped the table once. "But we are not doing any comparison PR or calling out competitors this time, right?"
"No, sir," Sara replied calmly.
Kairo frowned. A deep, controlled crease. "Then how do we regain the public's trust?"
Sara's lips curved, just a small, confident smile. "Emotional influence."
His eyebrow arched. "Emotional? How?"
She clicked to the next slide, her voice softening, but her posture still perfectly professional.
"Novacore has been a beloved brand for more than a decade, sir. It ruled Belvaria's market for years, not just because of designs or trends, but because people trusted it. Novacore never disappointed its customers."
Her words brought a brief silence to the room.
"But these days, youngsters have been swayed by Belvana's aggressive, flashy strategy," Sara continued, her tone steady and analytical. "Their 'be everywhere' strategy distracted people and pulled attention toward them."
Kairo nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
"Now," Sara said, clicking to the next slide, "Novacore will remind people of what this brand truly meant to them. Our new ad campaign will highlight how Novacore has always been a part of their lives, how it grew alongside its customers, upgraded with them, celebrated festivals with them… and never left their side."
The conference room fell quiet as everyone listened.
"And this new Halloween collection," she added, "will be the perfect highlight. It will connect the trend with nostalgia. When you deliver fashion with emotion… customers don't just buy. They stay loyal."
She finally stepped back from the screen.
"So that's our strategy, sir. And this is only the beginning. We're already planning for the winter and Christmas collection too. I hope this direction makes sense to you."
There was a brief pause as Kairo leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. The entire team watched him, hoping for approval, nervous under his sharp gaze.
Finally, he spoke.
"Who is working on the ad campaign script?"
Four members raised their hands. "We are, sir."
"Have you drafted any scripts? Or at least a prototype for how this idea will be executed?" he asked, voice calm but firm.
"Yes, sir."
"Then please present."
The team member stood up and walked toward the screen. Sara stepped aside to let him take over and then returned to her seat. He displayed a few sample concepts, soft, touching scenes mixed with modern fashion visuals.
Kairo listened carefully.
"These are a few ideas we've worked on, sir," he explained.
Kairo listened quietly and then nodded. "Good… these are impressive. Well done."
Everyone in the room exhaled in relief.
He smiled faintly. "Great work, team. Now execute everything as soon as possible. We don't have much time."
Everyone nodded vigorously.
"And send me the profiles of those influencers," he added. "I want to review them personally. Design team, if your samples are ready, send them too. Make sure they're eye-catching and trendsetting."
"Yes, sir," several voices responded at once.
Kairo rose from his seat.
"Well then, if we're done, let's dismiss the meeting."
Everyone stood as he walked out of the boardroom, commanding, confident, and carrying the fire of a man determined to win.
Sunday morning felt unusually soft.
Sara was curled up on the couch, scrolling through social media, checking what Belvaria was buzzing about, what Belvana was doing, and going through a few famous influencers' profiles she had bookmarked. Her fingers moved, but her mind kept slipping toward the sound of laughter coming from the backyard.
Meanwhile, in the backyard, Kairo was busy being a full-time dad. He and Zayn were having their own little adventure.
"Dada… you run too fast. I have small legs!" the little one complained, plopping onto the grass with dramatic flair.
Kairo smiled, shaking his head as he walked back to his tiny drama king, who was now lying flat on the grass, clearly expecting to be rescued.
"Baby, I'm just trying to teach you how to run fast," he said, sitting beside the little body spread on the grass like a starfish.. "Come, let's do it one more time."
"Nooo… I don't want to," Zayn muttered, turning his back to his father.
Kairo let out a soft chuckle and gave his tiny butt a playful slap. Zayn immediately covered it with both hands, pouting, which only made Kairo laugh harder.
He scooped Zayn up without effort, ignoring the wiggly protests, and then came the tickling, merciless, unstoppable.
Zayn's giggles burst out like bubbles, his tiny legs kicking as he tried to escape. Soon, both father and son were lying on the grass, laughing, tickling, wrestling in the soft morning sun… completely lost in their own little world.
Sara followed the sound of loud giggles and squeals all the way to the backyard. Zayn's high-pitched laughter was echoing across the lawn, mixed with Kairo's deep, playful growls. When she reached them, she found the two of them tangled on the grass, messy hair, dirty clothes, like they were in the middle of a WWF championship.
"What is happening here?" she asked, arms folding automatically.
Both boys looked up at her at the same time, same eyes, same expression.
"Just boys having fun. Girls are not invited," Kairo announced proudly.
Zayn nodded, very seriously backing his father. Sara raised one eyebrow at the tiny traitor.
"I'm not here to have fun by wrestling," she replied dryly.
Kairo, still lying on the grass with Zayn sitting on his stomach, looked offended when she scolded,
"And you," she pointed at Kairo, "don't teach my baby to beat people already. He's still small."
"Me?" Kairo gasped dramatically. "I'm teaching him how to be strong!" He turned to Zayn. "Right, my son?"
And Zayn nodded again, loyal like a soldier.
Sara's eyes narrowed. "Oh, so now you two are teaming up against me?"
"Yes," Kairo replied instantly, confident, stupidly proud.
Zayn, tiny soldier, nodded again.
Sara sighed, crossing her arms. "Look at you both, looking like dirty pigs."
"Handsome dirty pigs," Kairo corrected her proudly.
She shook her head, trying and failing to hide her smile.
"Enough wrestling," she said, slipping back into her strict tone. "Zayn, come. It's bath time.
"Mummaaa…" he dragged the word, clearly not ready to leave his fun.
"Zayn." Her tone sharpened, warning mode activated.
Zayn's shoulders dropped, a pout appearing instantly.
Kairo noticed and tried to defend him, "Baby… let him—"
"This instruction is for you, too," she cut him off. "Five minutes. Bathroom. Both of you," she ordered, then walked away.
Kairo stared at his son, those big green eyes filled with dramatic sadness. He couldn't help but smile. He leaned forward and kissed his little pout.
"Come on, let's listen to Mumma," he said softly.
Zayn pouted harder.
Kairo sat up, pulled him into his arms, ruffled his hair, and kissed him again. "Hey… how about we make bath time fun? Dada will join too," he said in a playful, excited tone.
Zayn's eyes lit up immediately. "Really?"
"Yes. Now come before Mumma explodes," Kairo whispered.
He lifted Zayn, and the moment they reached the door, both father and son were already pulling off their shirts as they ran toward the bathroom together, two chaotic boys obeying their favorite woman.