Free Web NovelChapter 113: Chapter 113 Focus On Your Career
Sylvia’s POV
Caesar.
He was truly striking—impossibly so—with that commanding presence that seemed to bend the very air around him.
His hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and his sharp jawline could have been carved from marble.
But what really made him impossible to ignore wasn’t the face or the body—it was the way the whole hallway seemed to shrink when he moved through it. Like everyone else was suddenly just filler in his scene.
I didn’t even think—I just followed. My boots echoed down the corridor as I picked up speed.
The poor receptionist tried to intercept me with a nervous "Miss—please," but I was already past her.
I cut him off just as he was turning the corner, stepping right in front of him like I had every right to be there.
Maybe I didn’t—but I wasn’t in the mood to care.
He stopped short, lips tightening, that ever-present crease between his brows deepening when he saw me.
I folded my arms and gave him a slow, pointed smile. "Relax. I’m not confusing you with someone else this time."
He stared at me for a beat, jaw ticking.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was calm, too calm.
His eyes flicked sideways—subtle, but I caught it.
The guy beside him, probably Beta Dylan, didn’t need to be told twice.
With efficient movements, Dylan herded the rest of Caesar’s entourage away, clearing the immediate area.
I saw it—that tiny glance between Caesar and the guy next to him.
Barely a flicker, but enough to set off every alarm bell in my head.
Oh, don’t tell me.
Was he the one behind Vertex?
The theory was starting to glue itself together a little too neatly for my liking.
He kept his face neutral.
"I’m just here for a routine meeting," he said casually, like we hadn’t practically collided into each other. "Didn’t expect to run into you."
"Really?" I challenged, remembering distinctly that he’d told me his company primarily dealt with advertising. And this building? Very much not ad agency territory.
"You know," I said, voice all sugar and suspicion, "for someone in ’advertising,’ you sure spend a lot of time in high-level engineering firms."
He didn’t flinch—but his jaw tightened, lips pressed into a thin, irritated line. That alone was worth the price of admission.
"It’s business," he said, voice icier now, like I’d just accused him of tax fraud. "You can believe that or not—your call."
Wow. Okay.
Just a few weeks ago, this was the same man who’d held me like I was something fragile, like I mattered. Now he couldn’t even manage basic warmth.
I swallowed the sting in my throat. No way was I letting him see that crack.
"Funny," I murmured, tilting my head, "because I remember you saying your company almost never works with Vertex. So either someone’s memory is off... or someone’s lying through their perfect teeth."
His nostrils flared slightly. "I said rarely. Not never."
"Ah. Semantics. My favorite kind of corporate dodge."
Caesar didn’t bother replying this time.
Typical. Men and their answers—about as reliable as a weather forecast in Montana.
I dropped my gaze for a second and sighed. "Fine. Message received."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked back to Lay, who was standing like he’d just watched a live episode of Real Housewives: Alpha Edition. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he wasn’t sure if he should intervene or hide behind a potted plant.
I had no interest in dragging this out.
Caesar’s whole cold-and-distant routine had killed whatever curiosity I had left.
All I wanted now was to wrap up this nightmare of a meeting and get the hell out of Vertex.
But of course, he wasn’t done.
Caesar stepped toward me again, his tone clipped. "You’re here for business negotiations, aren’t you?"
I turned, matching his flat tone with one of my own. "That’s right. And unless you’re suddenly on my payroll, it’s none of your concern."
His eyes flicked over me, unreadable. A beat passed.
Then he gave a short nod. "Very well. Go do your job."
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
Fine. If he wanted distance, I could build a whole damn zip code between us.
I watched him walk away, his back straight, his pace unhurried—like nothing had shifted between us.And maybe for him, nothing had.
A dull ache settled in my chest, unwelcome and entirely unproductive. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
Was Caesar already regretting our marriage? Wishing he could rewrite the script and slot his childhood sweetheart back into the role I’d been handed?
Foolish. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down.
To believe, even for a second, that this was more than what it had always been: a calculated alliance. Useful. Strategic. Temporary.
I’d miscalculated. That was on me.
But I’d survived worse than a bruised ego and a broken illusion.
I still had my work, my name, my ambition.
And I’d be damned if I let a man—any man—be the reason I faltered.
When I lifted my head, the sting in my eyes was gone. Whatever softness had tried to rise to the surface was buried six feet deep under steel and purpose.
Lay stepped into view, brows drawn. "Ms. Frost? You okay? You look... upset."
That caught me off guard for half a second—just long enough to irritate me.
Since when did Caesar have that kind of power over my expression?
I straightened, smoothing a nonexistent crease from my sleeve.
"I’m fine," I said, voice even. "Just momentarily distracted."
My wolf shifted uneasily, not buying it. But I wasn’t in the mood for self-interrogation. Not now.
I turned toward the conference room, already shifting mental gears. "Let’s focus on the project. That’s what matters."
Lay hesitated for a beat, then nodded. Smart man.
As we walked, I rolled my shoulders back and reset my posture—not because I needed to, but because it reminded me who I was.
I wasn’t here to fall in love.
I was here to win.
And I knew exactly how to do that.
