The soft hum of the elevator echoed through the quiet halls of the Vireya Building. The hour was late — most lights had long been switched off, and silence hung heavy on each floor. But on the topmost level, a single office remained aglow.
Felix Delgado stepped out of the elevator, his sharp features relaxed in the dim light. He adjusted his glasses and walked with practiced ease, balancing a folder in one hand and a delicate porcelain teacup in the other.
Through the glass wall of the CEO’s office, he saw her.
Shana Rivera sat behind her desk, back straight despite the visible exhaustion clinging to her shoulders. Documents were still spread out in front of her — her pen tapping softly as she reviewed another proposal. Even now, her mind raced faster than most could keep up with.
He didn’t knock. He never had to.
“You're late,” Shana said without looking up.
“You didn’t tell me you’d be measuring time now,” Felix replied coolly as he walked in, placing the folder on her desk.
She spared it a glance. “Novare’s report?”
“Yes. All daily transactions are accounted for, and the West Sector contracts have been finalized.” He opened the folder and flipped to a page, pointing at the figures. “And the Celestia Royale Hotel event — the one you quietly orchestrated to gain public favor?”
He looked at her, a rare gleam of admiration slipping through his calm, unreadable mask.
“It worked. Even better than we anticipated.”
That made her glance up, interest flickering in her tired eyes.
“Media coverage has been overwhelmingly positive. Public sentiment is shifting, and fast. They’re beginning to see Vireya Holdings not just as a corporation, but as a leader with a human touch — one that understands them. Your subtle presence in that event stirred more than just talk. It sparked trust.”
Shana’s lips twitched — a brief flicker of satisfaction crossing her face.
“Good,” she murmured.
Felix placed the cup of tea beside her hand, still steaming. The soft scent of chamomile and lavender rose between them, curling in the air like a quiet lullaby.
“You should rest,” he added, his tone dropping into something gentler.
She didn’t respond with words — only reached for the cup, taking a small sip. Her fingers lingered around the warmth. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was familiar.
Without needing to be told, Felix stepped around the desk. He picked up the thick gray blanket folded neatly over the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. She didn’t protest.
Shana’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment longer than a blink.
But just as he turned to leave, she murmured, “Fel... why’d you have to exaggerate in your speech?”
He paused.
“Exaggerate?”
“That whole part about Novare’s ‘untouchable elegance’ and...” — she cracked one eye open — “...‘the muse behind its vision’? That wasn’t part of the original script.”
Felix stood still, caught off guard but careful not to show it. He composed himself quickly.
“I improvised,” he said simply. “It was just a bluff — to make the public more curious. Mystery sharpens reputation. They’ll talk more. We need that.”
Shana narrowed her eyes slightly, half-asleep but not missing a beat. “So... who’s this muse, then?”
Felix adjusted his glasses, letting out a low breath.
“It was just a name,” he lied gently. “A poetic tool.”
Her eyes drifted closed again, her body sinking deeper into the chair as sleep crept closer.
“Hm. Better not distract them too much,” she mumbled.
She didn’t see the flicker in his eyes — the truth he swallowed quietly.
Once she had fully dozed off, Felix moved with quiet precision. He took the pen gently from her hand and placed it beside her papers. Then, reaching into the nearby couch, he retrieved a small pillow — the one he’d secretly left there weeks ago — and gently placed it beneath her head.
He adjusted the blanket once more, his hands lingering for a second too long.
Then he stood.
Just before he turned to leave, he glanced back at her — peaceful, powerful, and utterly unaware of the effect she had on him.
And in the softest whisper, only meant for the walls to hear, he said,
“Goodnight, Shana... my muse.”
And then he was gone.
End of Chapter 5
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