The meeting dragged on, but not a single person in the room dared to breathe loudly.
Because every time Kia spoke to Rylan, his voice softened.
And every time Rylan replied, his tone sharpened.
It was like watching fire and ice trying to coexist in the same glass.
Max quietly handled the documents, but his eyes kept darting between the two men like he was witnessing the collapse of a century-old empire.
Finally, one of Kia's senior executives—Mr. Han—cleared his throat nervously.
"S-sir… may we proceed with the projected timeline—"
Kia didn't even turn to him.
His eyes were glued to Rylan.
"Rylan, are you okay with that timeline?" he asked gently.
The entire team went still.
Mr. Han blinked.
Since when did their boss ask for anyone's personal comfort?
Rylan didn't look up from the documents.
"That timeline works," he said coolly.
But then he added, without lifting his eyes:
"And please speak to your staff, Mr. Kia. They shouldn't pause the entire company because you're distracted."
Kia's jaw tightened. He swallowed.
"Right. Of course."
He turned stiffly. "Proceed."
The meeting continued, but the tension only thickened. Kia kept watching Rylan's every movement — the way he read, the way he tapped his pen, the way he breathed.
He couldn't look away.
And Rylan?
He pretended not to feel it.
Pretended not to notice his pulse quickening whenever Kia's gaze brushed his skin.
But then—
Kia leaned forward.
Close. Too close.
Close enough that Rylan could smell that familiar faint cedar scent he once buried his face in.
"Rylan," Kia murmured quietly, meant only for him, "you're lying."
Rylan's pen stopped.
"About what?" he asked without looking up.
Kia's voice dropped even lower. Dangerous. Begging. Certain.
"About not wanting anything from me."
For the first time, Rylan stiffened.
A full second of silence stretched between them.
He forced his fingers to move again. Forced his breath to stay steady.
"I don't lie," Rylan said calmly. "Not anymore."
Kia's eyes darkened—hurt, love, frustration all twisted into one.
"Then why won't you look at me?" he whispered.
Rylan's throat tightened. His heart trembled.
But he slowly lifted his eyes and met Kia's gaze head-on.
Cold. Sharp. Glittering.
"I'm looking," Rylan said. "And I still don't want anything."
A lie so beautiful it nearly cracked the table.
Kia leaned back, exhaling sharply — the look on his face a mix of disbelief and pain.
Max gently kicked Rylan's foot under the table.
A silent message:
You're going to kill that man.
But before Rylan could respond, the door flew open.
A young assistant rushed in, breathless.
"S-sir! The children—" she froze when she saw Rylan.
Rylan immediately straightened. "What about the twins?"
The assistant swallowed.
"They… um… they ran out of the childcare room and—they're asking for you. Both of them. Loudly."
Kia's eyes widened.
Max slapped a palm over his face.
And every employee in the room panicked internally:
The kids. Are coming. Into the meeting.
Rylan stood smoothly, mask unbreakable. "I'll handle them."
But as he reached the door, Kia stood up too—instinctively.
"I'll come with you."
Rylan paused.
For the first time that day, his expression slipped.
Just a little.
Kia saw it.
Everyone saw it.
Rylan turned slightly, voice softer—barely.
"No. Stay. Finish the meeting."
Kia shook his head once. Firm.
"I told you yesterday," he murmured, stepping closer, "I'm done running from anything tied to you."
Rylan froze.
Not visibly. But Kia felt it.
Max looked at them both like he was watching a slow-motion earthquake.
The room was silent.
Then—
Two small voices echoed down the hallway:
"DADDYYYYY!"
Rylan exhaled, the slightest tremor escaping.
He stepped forward to go meet them—
But Kia moved first.
As if on instinct.
As if he already saw Rylan as something he was allowed to protect again.