On the 39th floor, Xavier Foster pushed open the door to his office, a flicker of anger on his cold, sharp face.
Hmph. This company is just feeding a bunch of freeloaders for nothing—they're all so inefficient. Everything has to be redone again and again before it meets his standards.
Xavier Foster pulled at his collar and slumped onto the sofa, exhaling heavily. He’d waited for his team to revise the proposal until late last night, and even then, the result was barely passable.
Henry Hart stepped in with a cup of coffee, setting it down on the desk. Ah, the boss’s standards really were too high.
To be fair, everyone here had been working so hard—it’s just that no one could match the CEO's demands.
His phone vibrated faintly in his pocket. He’d been in meetings and couldn’t check it until now.
He took the phone out, intent on stepping out to take the call, when he caught sight of two characters on the screen: Lady.
Glancing at the boss on the sofa, Henry Hart lowered his voice. "President Foster, it’s your wife calling."
Xavier Foster shot him an impatient frown. "Answer it."
Henry Hart picked up. "Madam, sorry, I was just in a meeting."
"Ah, that’s fine, Assistant He. The document is downstairs, but I can't come up. Could you please fetch it for me?"
Cecilia Ye sat on a lobby sofa. Even though the air conditioning was running, she’d happened to pick a seat right in the draft, so the wind from the entrance chilled her, making her shiver.
She hardly ever called people this persistently, but she really worried that the documents might not make it up in time and would delay their business.
"You brought it yourself? I’m so sorry, I’ll be right down."
After he hung up, Xavier Foster was already on his feet. "She’s here?"
Henry Hart answered quietly, "Sorry, President Foster, I didn’t expect Madam to deliver the document herself—she’s in the lobby. I’ll go get her right now."
But just as he finished, Xavier Foster had already strode out the door, and Henry Hart hurried after.
The executive elevator shot directly down to the first floor. As Xavier Foster walked out, his tall, elegant figure instantly drew every eye in the lobby. The suit sat perfectly on his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and even the smallest gesture radiated an air of refined arrogance.
At the reception desk, the girls swooned. Honestly, no matter how long they worked at Fu Group, it was impossible not to be smitten every time they saw the president—he was simply too handsome.
Cecilia Ye sat holding documents in the corner of the sofa, arms wrapped around herself against the draft. The cold made her shiver slightly.
A few stray wisps of hair were blown across her nose, but she didn’t move to brush them away. It was just too cold.
The moment Xavier Foster spotted her, his brows furrowed and he strode quickly over.
Seeing him approach, Cecilia Ye’s eyes lit up. She stood, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Zhiye, here’s your document…"
Xavier Foster noticed how red her face had gotten from the chill, his own expression darkening in concern. He immediately took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, his chilly voice tinged with anger. "Why is the lobby door open? From now on, keep it closed."
Everyone, already stunned by his gesture, hurried to follow orders and shut the doors, their whispers erupting immediately after.
"Who is that…?"
"Oh no, don’t tell me that’s the president’s wife?"
"No way—she looks so young. I heard the boss has been married for three or four years already."
"But she’s really gorgeous."
The warmth of the coat helped chase away some of the chill for Cecilia Ye. She shivered once more and lowered her head, feeling self-conscious under everyone’s gaze.
Henry Hart shot a glare at the onlookers, and the talkers quickly closed their mouths, eyes fixed on the floor.
Xavier Foster draped an arm over her shoulder and gently steered her toward the elevator, tossing the documents to Henry Hart as he passed.
"Wait, hold on a sec!" Cecilia Ye turned to pick up the insulated lunchbox on the table and waved it at Xavier Foster. "I brought you lunch—the kind you like."
Her eyes sparkled, full of hopeful anticipation, like a kid waiting to be praised.
Xavier Foster’s lips barely curved, an indulgent, unguarded look flickering over his normally stern face for a brief moment as he accepted the lunchbox and pulled her closer.
"Come on, let’s eat upstairs."
Henry Hart wisely stayed behind, seeing the two into the elevator.
The elevator delivered them straight to the 39th-floor executive suite. Xavier Foster set the lunchbox down on the sofa.
The office was toasty. Cecilia Ye, warming up, sat down and opened the lunchbox.
Her cheeks were still tinged with pink from the wind as Xavier Foster sat beside her, taking the chopsticks from her hands to warm her icy fingers in his palm.
"I was in a meeting just now, that’s why I missed your call."
"I guessed you might be. It was no big deal—I just didn’t want to delay the document getting to you."
Xavier Foster let out a soft sound of acknowledgement, an indescribable feeling rising in his chest.
Cecilia Ye seemed a bit uneasy. She blinked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I saw fish you like at lunch today, so I thought I’d bring you something to eat, too. I didn’t mean to trouble you."
"Not at all. Let’s eat."
He gently released her warmed hands and picked up the chopsticks.
A whole, delicately steamed fish was laid out in the box—clearly carried up with great care. There was chicken soup and vegetables, too, all Xavier Foster’s favorites.
He served a small bowl of soup and handed it to Cecilia Ye. "Here—drink this first to warm up."
Cecilia Ye blinked in surprise as she accepted it. "But I brought it for you…"
"There’s more. You first."
Only after she started obediently sipping her chicken soup did Xavier Foster start eating as well.
Every now and then, he’d offer Cecilia Ye a bite, watching her cheeks puff as she chewed thoughtfully.
Once they’d finished most of their meal, Cecilia Ye collected the boxes.
It was so warm in the office. She handed the coat back to Xavier Foster.
"Should I have someone take you home? I’m still busy this afternoon."
Xavier Foster hadn’t come home the previous night, and Cecilia Ye rarely got to see him at work. Wanting to stick around, she shook her head.
"I’ll stay out of your way. I won’t disturb you, I promise. Just let me sit here."
Xavier Foster nodded and returned to his desk, absorbed in his paperwork.
With her stomach warm and full, Cecilia Ye propped her chin in her hands and quietly watched him work. Behind Xavier Foster, the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows formed the backdrop—big, fluffy snowflakes were still falling outside, highlighting his cool, aloof presence.
His long fingers held a sleek black-and-gold pen. Sometimes he’d frown in concentration as he marked something up, making him seem far more expressive than usual.
A man deeply focused on his work really was irresistible. Cecilia Ye couldn’t help but smile as she watched.
The air conditioning was so comfortably warm that she took off her scarf and hung it on the couch. Before long, lulled by the heat and the quiet, she dozed off on the cushions.
When Xavier Foster finally finished reading, he immediately noticed Cecilia Ye fast asleep.
His young wife was sprawled across the broad armrest, her long eyelashes resting serenely. A sliver of her pale arm dangled over the edge—she looked so peaceful.
He walked over and gently tapped her small nose. She wrinkled it in her sleep but didn’t wake.
Bending down, Xavier Foster picked her up and kicked open a panel in the wall—his private resting room.
It was quiet inside, the bed enormous and soft. The decor was all black and gray, cold and masculine. The curtains were drawn, with only a lamp burning.
He laid Cecilia Ye down and carefully took off her shoes, relieved to see the bruise on her ankle almost fully healed. Sitting at the bed’s edge, he gently touched the thin scar on her neck from last time. It probably wouldn’t fade away.
Xavier Foster's long eyes grew momentarily troubled at the sight.
After a pause, worrying that she might be uncomfortable, he unwrapped her coat.
Even so, he didn’t wake her—she must’ve really been exhausted.
He tugged the covers over Cecilia Ye, left only the bedside light on, and quietly left the room.