The morning at Vel's Corporation began like any other quiet, focused, and cold.
The employees moved briskly across the glass-floored lobby, clutching files and tablets. No one dared to speak too loudly. The rumor around the office was simple: Mr. Andrew Vele wasn't in the mood today.
Inside his office, Andrew stood by the tall window, staring down at the city below. The sky was heavy with clouds, matching the weight in his chest. He'd barely slept — the image of Vanessa standing in front of him days ago still lingered. Her voice, her scent, the way she said "Miss me?" — it all haunted him.
He rubbed his temples, muttering under his breath. "Why did she come back now?"
Selina entered quietly, holding a few documents. Her eyes met his briefly before she lowered them. The silence between them was thick professional, yet awkward. Since that unexpected kiss, neither had dared to mention it.
"Sir," she said softly, setting the papers on his desk, "these are the files for the upcoming charity project. The board needs your approval before noon."
Andrew nodded without looking up. "Leave them there. I'll sign them later."
Selina hesitated. "Is everything all right?"
His eyes flicked up for a moment — those sharp, unreadable eyes that made her heart skip before she quickly turned away.
"I'm fine, Miss Whyte," he replied curtly. "You may go."
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the sudden chime of the elevator echoed across the corridor outside. Aiden, Andrew's assistant, hurried toward the office looking alarmed.
"Sir!" Aiden said, almost out of breath. "Your father just arrived."
Andrew froze. "My what?"
"Mr. Vele, sir. He's downstairs — and he said he doesn't need an appointment."
Andrew muttered a curse under his breath and straightened his tie. "Of course he didn't."
Selina blinked in surprise. "Your… father?"
Andrew gave a faint, humorless smile. "You'll see why everyone suddenly stops breathing when he walks in."
Moments later, the elevator doors slid open again. Mr. Vele stepped out, tall, gray-haired but commanding, his tailored black suit sharp as ever. The air in the room seemed to shift immediately. Employees greeted him nervously, their voices low, their eyes full of respect and fear.
"Good morning, sir," one of the managers stammered.
Mr. Vele gave a polite nod but didn't slow his pace. His gaze swept across the lobby until it landed on the glass office above. "He's in there, I presume?"
"Yes, sir," Aiden replied quickly. "Mr. Andrew is waiting for you."
"Good," Mr. Vele said, his tone clipped. "Then let's not waste time."
He entered the office without knocking.
Andrew stood straight behind his desk, expression unreadable. "Father."
"Andrew."
For a brief moment, silence filled the room — the kind that carries years of distance between two people who share the same blood but not the same warmth.
Mr. Vele took a slow look around. "Still prefer the view over conversation, I see."
Andrew smirked faintly. "Some things never change."
Selina, standing quietly by the desk, lowered her gaze and stepped aside. She could feel the tension vibrating in the air the heavy authority in the elder Vele's voice, and the restrained irritation in Andrew's tone.
Mr. Vele finally noticed her. "And who might you be?"
"Selina Whyte, sir. Mr. Andrew's secretary."
The older man's eyes lingered for a moment calm, assessing, almost calculating. "Efficient?"
Andrew answered before she could speak. "More than most."
Selina gave a small bow and quietly excused herself from the office, closing the door behind her. But she didn't go far. From her desk outside, she could still hear faint voices.
......
Inside, Mr. Vele took a seat opposite his son. "You've been distant lately. Too distant."
Andrew sat down too, folding his hands. "You came all the way here to discuss my moods?"
"I came here to discuss your future," his father said flatly. "And the company's. You're walking on a line too thin to hold you forever."
Andrew leaned back. "If this is about marriage, I don't need a lecture."
"It's not just marriage," Mr. Vele said sharply. "It's legacy. Our name built this company. And I will not stand by while you throw it away because of some woman who broke your heart."
Andrew's jaw tightened. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Mr. Vele's tone hardened. "Everyone sees it. You're unfocused, distracted, angry. Do you think shareholders don't notice? I came here to remind you that being a Vele means more than just sitting in that chair."
Andrew stood suddenly, frustration flashing in his eyes. "I'm running the company just fine, Father. I don't need a reminder of who I am."
Mr. Vele rose too, voice low but firm. "You do, son. Because you're starting to forget."
The silence that followed was sharp as glass.
Finally, Mr. Vele sighed, adjusting his cufflinks. "You're my son, Andrew. And I only want what's best for you. Don't make me intervene in ways you won't like."
He turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Oh — and about the young woman outside. Keep your relationship professional. It's bad enough people still whisper about Vanessa."
The door clicked shut.
Andrew stood motionless for a long moment, anger and confusion tightening in his chest. When he finally looked through the glass, his gaze found Selina — calm, focused, typing at her desk.
For some reason, that steadiness grounded him more than his father's words ever could.
......
Meanwhile, in another part of Los Angeles, Vanessa Moore sat on a balcony, swirling her wine glass slowly. She held her phone to her ear, listening as a soft voice spoke on the other end.
"So… he's still avoiding her?"
"Yes, ma'am," the voice replied.
Vanessa's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Perfect. Let him think he's in control. He never really was."