Ulyana and Rowan continued chatting for a little while longer, completely comfortable in each other's company.
The conversation wandered aimlessly between childhood stories, travel, and Rowan's upcoming trip.
Then suddenly—Grrr.
The sound was unmistakable.
Ulyana froze.
Rowan blinked.
A beat of silence passed before Ulyana looked at him and immediately started laughing.
"Oh my God."
Rowan laughed too. "Was that your stomach?"
"No."
"It absolutely was."
"It was the couch."
"The couch is hungry?"
"The couch is starving."
That earned another laugh from Rowan.
Eventually he pushed himself up from the floor and offered her his hand.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"To get food."
Ulyana happily accepted his hand and sat upright.
Rowan smiled. "If you'd like, I can have the chef make you anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Ulyana immediately looked suspicious.
"This may be crazy."
Rowan chuckled.
Somehow he already knew this wasn't going to be a sophisticated request.
"You say the word, Angel."
She hesitated dramatically, then finally confessed: "…I could really do a burger right now."
Silence.
Rowan stared at her. "A burger?"
Ulyana nodded. "A good burger."
"You're the granddaughter of one of the most powerful men in the country."
"Mhm."
"You're Silvercrown's biggest celebrity."
"Correct."
"You're currently sitting inside one of the most exclusive estates in the Hassano Islands."
"Also correct."
"And your dinner request is a burger?"
Ulyana pointed at him. "A really good burger."
Rowan shook his head, still laughing he pulled out his phone. "One gourmet burger coming right up."
"With fries?"
Rowan sighed dramatically. "With fries, Angel."
"You're the best."
"I know." he replied smugly.
"This may offend Marcel." Rowan laughed.
"Why?" Ulyana looked at him thoughtfully.
"He was trained in France."
That only confused her more. Ulyana tilted her head. "…What's wrong with burgers in France?"
Rowan had to look away to hide his smile.
"Nothing."
"Then why would he be offended?"
"Because Marcel spent years mastering fine dining, classical French cuisine, and earning enough accolades to make other chefs cry."
Ulyana nodded. "Okay?"
"And after all of that training, experience, and prestige…"
Rowan pointed at her dramatically.
"His chairman's girlfriend has requested a burger."
Ulyana immediately burst out laughing.
"That's not my fault."
"It absolutely is."
"I didn't ask him to become talented."
Rowan shook his head. "Poor Marcel."
"He'll survive."
"He spent six years training under Michelin-starred chefs."
"And now he gets to make me a burger. Sounds like career progression."
That finally broke Rowan completely. He doubled over laughing while Ulyana looked entirely pleased with herself.
A few moments later Rowan pulled out his phone.
"I'm calling him."
"Tell him I want fries too please."
"Angel."
"Lots of fries."
"You're making this worse."
"Tell him I believe in him."
Rowan groaned. "Marcel is going to quit."
"No he won't."
"Why not?"
Ulyana smiled confidently.
"Because deep down every great chef wants someone to appreciate the classics."
"The classics?"
"A burger and fries."
Rowan began laughing all over again.
- - -
Rowan and Ulyana left the office together, their fingers naturally intertwined as they walked through the estate.
Neither of them thought much of it.
The staff certainly did.
The moment they appeared together, whispers quietly spread through the household.
Not malicious ones.
Quite the opposite.
Many of the estate staff had worked for the Volkov family for years.
Some for decades.
And most of them had never seen Rowan like this.
The Chairman had always been respectful.
Professional.
Fair.
But distant.
There had always been a wall between Rowan and everyone else.
Now that wall seemed noticeably thinner whenever Ulyana was around.
He smiled more.
Laughed more.
He seemed lighter.
Human.
And the staff noticed.
One maid nearly walked into a wall after seeing Rowan absentmindedly brush a loose strand of hair from Ulyana's face while they walked.
An older groundskeeper simply smiled knowingly.
Even several security personnel seemed amused by the change.
Ulyana, blissfully unaware of the growing estate gossip, continued chatting happily beside him.
Meanwhile Rowan seemed entirely unconcerned about the attention.
If anything, he appeared perfectly content.
The pair wandered through several wings of the estate before eventually making their way toward the kitchen.
The closer they got, the more activity they encountered.
Estate chefs.
Kitchen assistants.
Household staff.
The entire culinary team appeared busy preparing the evening meal.
The moment Rowan and Ulyana entered the kitchen area, several staff members straightened instinctively.
And at the centre of it all stood Marcel.
The head chef.
A man who took his craft very seriously.
A man who had trained extensively in France.
A man who currently had absolutely no idea that his chairman's girlfriend had requested a burger.
Rowan glanced toward Ulyana.
Ulyana glanced toward Rowan.
Both immediately started trying not to laugh.
Ulyana immediately grabbed onto Rowan's arm as they approached the kitchen staff. The movement alone caused several nearby employees to smile discreetly.
Rowan pretended not to notice.
He guided her toward Marcel. "Marcel."
The chef immediately straightened.
"Chairman."
Rowan rested a hand lightly against Ulyana's back.
"This is my girlfriend, Ulyana Vasily."
Marcel's eyes widened ever so slightly before he immediately composed himself.
"Milady." He gave a respectful nod.
Ulyana smiled warmly. "It's a pleasure, Marcel. Rowan often sings your praises."
That visibly pleased him. "I hope I live up to them."
Then, ever the professional, he clasped his hands behind his back.
"What shall we be serving this evening?"
Ulyana immediately looked at Rowan.
Rowan looked at Ulyana.
Then back at Marcel. "I'll have my usual steak."
Marcel nodded.
"And whatever side dish you'd like to prepare is fine."
"Of course."
Then Rowan continued. "And for her…"
A pause.
"…a burger and fries."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Marcel blinked once, then twice.
"…A burger?"
Neither Rowan nor Ulyana said anything. They simply allowed the information to settle.
The surrounding kitchen staff suddenly became incredibly interested in their various tasks.
One assistant nearly walked into a counter trying not to laugh.
Marcel slowly looked at Ulyana.
Then at Rowan.
Then back at Ulyana.
"…A burger."
"Yes," Ulyana replied cheerfully.
"And fries."
Marcel looked physically pained.
Not offended.
Just deeply conflicted.
As though years of classical French culinary training were battling against his duty as a professional chef.
Fortunately for Ulyana, Marcel took his profession very seriously.
After a long moment, his shoulders squared.
Very well.
"If Milady desires a burger…"
His expression became determined. "…then she shall have the finest burger I am capable of producing."
Ulyana brightened immediately. "Please, Marcel."
That only strengthened his resolve.The chef nodded solemnly.
"As you wish."
Then he turned sharply toward the kitchen brigade.
The atmosphere instantly shifted.
"Pierre."
"Chef!"
"Fresh brioche buns."
"Yes, Chef!"
"Lucas."
"Chef!"
"Prepare the wagyu."
"Immediately, Chef!"
Marcel spun back toward Ulyana. His eyes held the determination of a man preparing for war.
"I will not disappoint you." Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Ulyana watched him leave.
Then slowly looked up at Rowan. "…I think I accidentally activated his final form."
Rowan laughed out loud at that.
-
When dinner was finally served, the entire kitchen brigade was on edge. Far more on edge than they had ever been.
This wasn't because Chairman Volkov was dining.
That happened all the time.
It was because this was the first woman Rowan had ever brought to the estate.
And everyone knew it.
As a result, Marcel personally delivered the meals. The chef approached the dining room carrying himself with all the dignity of a man presenting a masterpiece.
First came Rowan's steak.
Then Ulyana's burger and fries.
Marcel carefully explained each component of the meal as though presenting dishes at a world-renowned culinary competition.
"The brioche bun was baked this afternoon."
Ulyana nodded seriously.
"The wagyu was sourced from Australia."
She nodded again listening carefully.
"...the fries have been twice cooked for texture."
"Thank you, Marcel," Rowan said, clearly trying not to laugh.
The chef straightened. "Enjoy your meal."
Then he departed.
Professional.
Dignified.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, however, he joined several members of his kitchen staff who were secretly waiting nearby.
Watching.
Listening.
Anticipating.
Meanwhile, Rowan and Ulyana looked around the dining area.
The table had been arranged beautifully, candles flickered softly, fresh flowers decorated the room.The entire atmosphere looked suspiciously romantic.
Ulyana immediately laughed.
"Your staff must get their decorating inspiration from you."
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She pointed at the flowers. "This has the same energy as the two hundred bouquets you sent to my office."
Rowan chuckled. "You deserved no less."
Ulyana rolled her eyes fondly.
Across the hall, several staff members nearly melted.
The estate gossip was going to be unbearable after tonight.
Eventually Rowan and Ulyana bowed their heads and said grace together.
Then finally, the moment arrived.
Ulyana picked up her burger.
Somewhere behind a wall, Marcel unconsciously held his breath.
The entire kitchen brigade seemed to collectively stop functioning.
Ulyana took a bite, then her eyes widened.
"Oh my God."
Marcel's heart nearly stopped.
"This is amazing."
The chef visibly relaxed.
Ulyana immediately took another bite. Her excitement was impossible to hide.
"This is genuinely one of the best burgers I've ever had."
The kitchen staff silently celebrated.
One assistant chef, pumped his fist in the air.
Another whispered, "Chef's still got it."
Marcel pretended he hadn't heard that. Though the proud smile he was trying to suppress suggested otherwise.
The celebration continued until a familiar voice sounded behind them.
"Ahem."
The entire kitchen staff froze.
Slowly they turned around. Standing there was the Volkov Estate's butler.
Instant panic followed.
"Back to work."
Everyone scattered back toward their stations while trying—and failing—not to laugh.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, sir."
"Immediately, sir."
Within seconds the hallway was empty.
The butler watched them disappear before shaking his head, then he glanced toward the dining room.
Toward Rowan.
Toward Ulyana.
Toward the smile on the Chairman's face that had become increasingly common whenever she was around.
A small smile tugged at the corner of the butler's own mouth.
Because if he was being honest, he was just as delighted as the rest of them.
After all, he had watched Rowan grow up.And it had been a very long time since he'd seen him this happy.
After dinner, which had been held earlier than usual due to Rowan's departure schedule and Ulyana's sudden craving for a burger, the atmosphere around the estate shifted.
The relaxed evening came to an end.
Work resumed.
Within the hour, Rowan was back in his office reviewing departure schedules, freight manifests, security assessments, and operational briefings.
The playful man who had spent the afternoon teasing Ulyana gradually disappeared.
In his place sat Chairman Volkov.
Focused.
Commanding.
Ulyana adapted to the change immediately because every movement suddenly carried purpose.
Every decision was made quickly.
Every question received an immediate answer and it was fascinating to watch.
Rowan, meanwhile, seemed perfectly happy to have her remain beside him. She occupied a seat closest to his desk, occasionally reading, scrolling through her phone, or simply observing the meetings taking place around her.
The office steadily filled with senior personnel.
The security chief.
Operations manager.
Trusted lieutenants.
Men who had worked alongside Rowan for years. And despite their efforts to remain professional, many of them couldn't help stealing occasional glances toward Ulyana.
Not only because she was famous or because she was beautiful, but because none of them had ever seen Rowan bring someone into this part of his life before.
At one point, one of the operations managers accidentally looked toward Ulyana three separate times during a report.
Rowan noticed.
Everyone noticed Rowan noticing.
The poor man immediately returned his attention to the briefing.
Ulyana nearly laughed.
Meanwhile, Rowan remained focused on the information being presented.
A large display screen illuminated one wall of the office with shipping routes, travel schedules and security allocations.
Several key personnel would be accompanying Rowan overseas.
Others would remain behind.
The meetings continued for a couple hours.
Throughout it all, Ulyana watched quietly from his side.
And every now and then, between discussions and briefings, Rowan's hand would find hers beneath the desk.
Almost absentminded.
As if reassuring himself she was still there.
Each time, Ulyana squeezed his hand back.
And despite the increasingly serious nature of the work surrounding them, the gesture seemed to steady him.
Reports.
Updates.
Instructions.
Approvals.
All while Rowan calmly coordinated preparations for a trip that would likely keep him away for weeks.
The closer they moved toward departure, however, the more Ulyana found herself quietly watching him.
Because everyone else in the room seemed focused on the operation.
But she found herself focused on something else entirely. The fact that in a few hours he'd be gone.
-
Eventually, Hak arrived for his briefing. Unlike the others, he didn't bother with formalities.
He simply walked into the office as though he owned the place, dropped a folder onto the conference table, and took the empty seat beside Ulyana.
Ulyana looked up from her phone and smiled.
"Hey."
"Hey."
The exchange was casual. Years of familiarity distilled into a single word.
Meanwhile Rowan remained focused on the security reports spread across his desk. At least outwardly.
Hak leaned back in his chair.
"So…" he said quietly. "You've been with Ro all day, huh?"
Ulyana smiled. "Yeah."
"And?"
She didn't even hesitate. "I've had fun, to be honest."
The answer was innocent and annoyingly honest. And unfortunately for Hak, he could hear exactly how genuine it was. His jaw tightened ever so slightly before he forced himself to relax.
"That's good."
Ulyana missed it entirely. "How was your day?"
Hak exhaled through his nose. "Busy."
"Ahh, how helpful and descriptive."
"You're welcome."
That earned a small laugh from her.
For the next several minutes they continued whispering back and forth while the meeting carried on around them.They exchanged stories about their respective days.
Ulyana talked about the warehouse visit, the burger, and Marcel's near-spiritual crisis upon being asked to prepare it.
Hak actually laughed at that.
Then the conversation drifted elsewhere. Suddenly, Ulyana opened her phone.
"Oh!"
She immediately turned the screen toward him.
Hak looked, then groaned. "No way."
"Yes."
"No."
The internet had already turned Graham into a meme. It was specifically a photograph from the baseball game when the denergy drink spill happened, someone had caught an angle showing Graham's reaction to the scene.
One where Graham looked deeply unimpressed while chaos unfolded around him.
The image had apparently become a reaction meme overnight.
The caption read: "When your friends create problems and now it's somehow your responsibility."
Hak immediately started laughing.
Ulyana laughed too.
The pair tried—and failed—to keep quiet.
A few heads turned, including Graham's unfortunately.
Graham narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Seriously, what."
"Nothing."
Graham looked unconvinced.
Ulyana immediately handed her phone to Hak instead. "You should show him."
"I'm not showing him."
"You should."
"I value my life."
Across the room, Rowan finally looked up from the briefing.
"What are you two whispering about?"
"Nothing."
The synchronized response immediately made Rowan suspicious.
Meanwhile Graham had already started walking toward them.
"Let me see."
"No its irrelevant."
"Show me."
"No."
The office suddenly devolved into complete chaos for approximately thirty seconds before everyone remembered they were technically attending a security briefing.
Even Rowan found himself smiling despite the seriousness of the work. For a brief moment, things almost felt normal.
Like friends sitting together instead of people preparing to walk back into dangerous circumstances.