Adrian’s POV Alexander and I were waiting inside my car after work for Julian and Damian when something caught my attention in the rearview mirror.
Meave.
She was stepping into a taxi, her shoulders slightly slumped and exhaustion visible even from a distance.
I watched as she settled inside before the taxi pulled away from the building.
I didn’t realize I had been watching until Alexander’s voice broke the silence.
“Don’t hope for too much.” I immediately looked at him.
“I’m not hoping for anything,” I replied, perhaps a little too quickly.
Alexander remained expressionless, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
That was the thing about him.
He rarely showed anything on his face.
You could tell him something surprising, insulting, or even ridiculous, and his expression would barely change.
But the silence that followed my answer told me everything.
He didn’t believe me.
I sighed and leaned back against the seat.
A few minutes later, Julian and Damian finally appeared.
Julian came first, carrying a large paper bag filled with walnut cookies from the bakery nearby—his favourite.
I glanced at the bag and shook my head.
Of course.
Julian had an almost ridiculous obsession with those cookies.
Every alternate day, he would stop by that bakery and buy enough to feed an entire office.
And somehow, Damian always ended up being dragged along with him.
Their relationship was difficult to explain.
Damian was serious, competitive, and composed—almost as much as Alexander.
But whenever Julian was around, that seriousness somehow cracked.
Julian had a way of dragging him into his nonsense that no one else could get away with.
They were almost always together.
Well…
mostly because Julian refused to go anywhere without dragging Damian along.
“Don’t tell me you bought those again,” I said as Julian climbed into the car.
Julian looked offended.
“Again?
Adrian, these are essential for my survival.” Damian rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of amusement on his face.
That was Julian and Damian.
One was chaos.
The other pretended he wasn’t enjoying it.
And somehow, they had become the best of friends.
“What are you going to eat at the meeting if you eat all those now?” Damian asked, eyeing the bag of cookies in Julian’s hands.
Julian’s expression immediately turned serious.
“I’m not going to that pathetic meeting,” he declared with a disgusted snort.
Well, that wasn’t surprising.
None of us particularly enjoyed those meetings, but Julian despised them more than anyone.
He came up with a new excuse every time just to avoid attending.
“You’re going,” Alexander said firmly.
Julian looked at him.
“They’re announcing a special order.
You need to be there.” Alexander rarely used that particular tone with us.
He was always blunt, but when his voice became that firm, it meant there was no room for argument.
Julian simply rolled his eyes.
“Do you think I care?” Damian sighed before casually adding, “Nathaniel isn’t joining today.” Julian’s entire expression changed.
“Oh.” He suddenly looked much more relaxed.
Then he turned toward Damian with a sweet, almost suspiciously innocent smile.
“Only if you let me stay at your dorm tonight.” Damian stared at him.
“No.” Julian’s smile widened.
“Please?” “No.” “Come on, Damian.” A long silence followed.
Finally, Damian let out a heavy sigh.
“Fine.” Julian immediately grinned in victory and hugged his bag of cookies.
I shook my head, trying not to laugh.
Damian had faced some of the toughest negotiations in Westbridge.
Yet somehow, Julian was the one person who could defeat him every single time.
The Callahan Estate stood behind a pair of imposing wrought-iron gates, hidden from the city by a long driveway lined with ancient oak trees.
By the time our car reached the mansion, the last traces of daylight had disappeared from the sky.
The house looked less like a residence and more like something that belonged to another century—pale stone walls, towering arched windows, dark wooden doors, and perfectly maintained gardens stretching in every direction.
Inside, the familiar grandeur continued.
Marble floors reflected the warm glow of an enormous crystal chandelier, while portraits of generations of Callahans watched silently from the walls, their stern expressions making the hallways feel almost alive.
But the Oak Dining Hall was different.
It was warmer.
The walls were covered in dark oak paneling, and a large stone fireplace occupied one end of the room.
Beyond the tall windows, the gardens disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the faint reflection of the chandelier against the glass.
At the center stood a long oak table, already prepared for dinner.
Four families had gathered around that table for years.
Business deals had been discussed there.
Celebrations had taken place there.
Arguments had been settled there.
And tonight, another important conversation was about to begin.
We all entered the dining hall and took our respective seats around the long oak table.
At the head sat Victor Callahan, the founder and chairman of Westbridge Corporation—and Alexander’s uncle.
His presence alone commanded attention, even without him saying a word.
To his immediate right sat Alexander, as composed and unreadable as ever.
On Victor’s left sat my father, Sebastian Blackwood, the Chief Operating Officer of Westbridge.
Beside him sat my mother, Eleanor Blackwood, who had served as the company’s Chief Human Resources Officer for as long as I could remember.
I took my seat between my parents, quietly observing the others around the table.
Across from us sat Damian and Julian, side by side as usual.
To Damian’s right was his father, Marcus Hades, another senior executive at Westbridge, while Julian’s mother, Vivienne Bennett, the company’s Director of Public Relations, sat to Julian’s left.
The arrangement wasn’t accidental.
These weren’t merely families sharing a dinner table.
They were some of the most influential people within Westbridge, their positions and relationships woven together over years of business, loyalty, and shared history.
And as I looked around the table, I couldn’t help wondering why Victor had called all of us here tonight.
“Has your new intern finally settled in?” Victor asked Alexander, his gaze briefly shifting toward him.
“Yes, Uncle,” Alexander replied calmly.
Vivienne, who had been listening quietly, raised an eyebrow.
“I still don’t understand what’s so special about that girl that you specifically requested her to join ESSPU.” I noticed Julian stiffen beside her.
He looked ready to say something, but Alexander spoke before he could.
“It has been five years since ESSPU accepted anyone,” Alexander said evenly.
“I was simply concerned about the rumours circulating within the company.
I didn’t want people questioning the department or becoming overly curious about what goes on inside it.
That could attract unnecessary attention.” His answer was calm, logical, and perfectly convincing.
He had deliberately redirected the question without actually answering it.
Classic Alexander.
Only the four of us knew the real reason Meave had been brought into ESSPU.
And none of us were foolish enough to reveal it in front of our families.
Vivienne still looked unconvinced, but she didn’t press the matter.
The servants returned with another round of dishes, carefully placing them across the table before quietly stepping away.
My father smiled as he looked around the table.
“Our children are mature and intelligent enough to understand the situations they’re put in,” he said proudly, giving my shoulder a gentle pat.
“I’m proud of all of them.” “Unless they make mistakes,” Marcus Hades added, his voice noticeably firmer.
His eyes immediately settled on Damian.
We all knew how strict Marcus was with his son.
Even at a family dinner, his words carried the weight of a warning.
Damian, however, didn’t seem bothered.
“We already checked her background and history,” he said calmly, his tone strangely similar to his father’s.
“She’s safe to play with.” A soft clearing of the throat came from the head of the table.
The sound was enough to make every conversation die instantly.
We all straightened in our seats and turned our attention toward Victor.
He calmly placed his glass down and looked around the table, his expression suddenly more serious than before.
The warmth of dinner disappeared from the room.
I knew that look.
Whatever Victor was about to say wasn’t going to be casual.
It was time for the announcement.