Morning sunlight spilled across the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, washing the living room in warm gold.
The charity gala had come and gone, but life had wasted no time settling back into its familiar rhythm.
Alexander had returned to his usual routine with seamless precision.
Breakfast was brief.
Coffee was stronger than necessary.
His tablet rested beside his plate, displaying the day's schedule before he'd taken his first sip.
"The Riverton Dynamics legal team confirmed the final revisions overnight," Mike reported over the phone. "Their board has approved the acquisition framework. All that's left is the final round of signatures."
"When?"
"Thursday afternoon."
Alexander closed the document in front of him.
"I'll be there."
"I've already cleared your schedule."
"Good."
The call ended.
Across the dining area, Malissa looked up from her own breakfast.
"You already have meetings?"
"I always do."
She smiled faintly.
"I suppose that was a silly question."
"It was."
His answer came without malice.
She simply shook her head with an amused smile.
Somewhere along the way, she'd learned there was a difference between Alexander being deliberately cold... and Alexander simply speaking his mind.
A few minutes later, he rose from his chair.
"I'm leaving."
"Have a good day."
He gave a brief nod before disappearing toward the elevator.
The penthouse fell quiet once more.
After clearing the breakfast table with the housekeeper, Malissa settled onto the sofa with a cup of tea.
Her sketchbook rested beside her, but instead of reaching for it immediately, she unlocked her phone.
She found herself thinking about the Hawthorne Foundation.
The evening had passed so quickly that she'd barely taken time to appreciate what the foundation actually stood for.
Curious, she typed its name into the search bar.
The official website appeared first.
She browsed through photographs of children's hospitals, scholarship recipients and community outreach projects.
"So that's where the donations go..."
Her finger scrolled lower.
A section titled Recent Coverage appeared.
##The first article caught her attention.
Marquez CEO Attends Hawthorne Charity Gala with Partner. ##
She sighed softly.
"Of course."
Opening it anyway, she expected the usual speculation.
Instead...
The article focused almost entirely on the foundation's fundraising success.
Alexander's attendance occupied only a few paragraphs.
Then she saw her own name.
##...Malissa Fisher accompanied Mr. Marquez throughout the evening. Guests noted her quiet confidence and understated elegance, qualities that complemented the event's refined atmosphere. ##
She blinked.
Understated elegance?
That certainly wasn't how she'd felt.
Curiosity got the better of her.
She opened the comment section.
The first comment read:
[She's nothing like the internet made her out to be.]
Another followed.
[I actually like how simple she is.]
A third.
[They looked surprisingly comfortable together.]
There were still a handful of negative remarks.
But...
For the first time...
They were no longer the loudest voices.
Malissa stared at the screen for a moment before quietly locking her phone.
She wasn't relieved.
She wasn't excited.
Only thoughtful.
Perhaps...
People really could change their minds.
By midmorning, Malissa arrived at St. Catherine Medical Centre carrying a small paper bag filled with fresh fruit.
Her mother looked noticeably stronger than she had only weeks before.
The colour had begun returning to her face.
Even her smile seemed easier.
"You've brought too much again."
"It's only fruit."
Evelyn laughed softly.
"You say that every visit."
"It's still true."
They spent the next hour talking about ordinary things.
The flowers outside the hospital.
The weather.
A neighbour from Willowbrook who had apparently sent greetings through an old family friend.
Nothing heavy. Nothing painful.
Just... Normal.
Later, Dr. Bennett entered the room carrying a tablet.
He reviewed several charts before looking up with an encouraging smile.
"Mrs. Fisher, your recovery continues to exceed expectations."
Malissa straightened in her chair.
"Really?"
The doctor nodded.
"Your mother's responding well to treatment."
Relief washed quietly across Malissa's face.
"If everything continues at this pace..."
He smiled.
"...we'll begin discussing discharge planning in the coming weeks."
Evelyn blinked.
"So soon?"
"We're not setting a discharge date yet," he clarified gently.
"But you're giving us every reason to be optimistic."
After he left, silence settled briefly inside the room.
Evelyn reached for her daughter's hand.
"Maybe..."
She smiled hopefully.
"...I'll finally be able to come home."
Malissa squeezed her hand.
"I'll be waiting."
That afternoon, one of the scheduled prison calls connected precisely on time.
The familiar crackle echoed through the receiver before her father's voice emerged.
"Malissa?"
"I'm here, Dad."
"How's your mother?"
"She's getting stronger."
He released a quiet breath.
"Thank God."
She smiled despite herself.
"The doctor says they might begin discussing discharge in a few weeks."
"That's wonderful."
For several moments, neither of them spoke.
Mr. Fisher broke the silence first.
"And you?"
"I'm alright."
"You've been eating properly?"
She laughed softly.
"I have."
"Don't skip meals because you're busy."
"I won't."
Another pause.
"I wish I could do more."
"You already are."
He lowered his voice.
"Take care of your mother."
"I will."
"And yourself."
"I promise."
The line disconnected a minute later.
Malissa remained seated for several seconds, staring quietly at the silent receiver before finally standing.
-----
Marquez Technologies remained as efficient as ever.
Conference rooms filled.
Meetings concluded.
Documents moved from one department to another with practiced precision.
Inside Alexander's office, Mike placed another report on the desk.
"Finance has completed the valuation review."
Alexander flipped through the pages.
"No objections?"
"None."
"The legal team?"
"They're prepared for Thursday."
Alexander signed one document before sliding it neatly aside.
"Good."
Mike checked another note.
"The integration team has already begun preliminary planning."
Alexander looked up.
"They're ahead of schedule."
"They wanted to be."
A brief silence followed.
Mike gathered the signed documents.
"One last thing."
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
"The executive lobby television has been showing repeated international reports this morning."
Alexander barely looked up.
"What about?"
"Some respiratory illness overseas."
He shrugged lightly.
"The business channels don't seem overly concerned."
Alexander returned to the document in front of him.
"Neither am I."
Mike nodded.
"I thought as much."
The conversation ended there.
Outside his office, the television mounted in the executive lobby continued broadcasting uninterrupted.
"...health authorities have confirmed additional cases overseas..."
"...officials maintain there is currently no cause for public concern..."
Executives walked past without slowing.
Phones rang.
Meetings continued.
Business carried on.
That evening, the penthouse felt unusually peaceful.
Malissa sat comfortably on the sofa with her sketchbook balanced across her knees.
Several new eveningwear concepts had begun taking shape over the course of the afternoon.
She erased one sleeve design before trying another.
The television murmured quietly in the background.
Without really paying attention, she glanced up.
A news anchor appeared on the screen.
"...several countries continue monitoring the developing respiratory outbreak..."
"...health officials emphasize that there is no immediate cause for alarm..."
"...travellers are advised to observe standard hygiene precautions..."
Malissa listened for barely a moment.
"Hm."
She reached for the remote.
Click.
The serious news broadcast disappeared.
Moments later, the cheerful opening music of **Run BTS** filled the living room.
Within seconds, the members were arguing animatedly over the rules of a game before dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.
A smile spread across Malissa's face.
"They're impossible."
She laughed quietly to herself before lowering her eyes back to her sketchbook.
The television continued playing in the background while laughter, teasing and playful chaos echoed throughout the room.
Outside the enormous windows, Pacifica Heights glowed beneath the evening skyline.
Inside the penthouse...
Everything felt perfectly ordinary.
The earlier news report had already slipped from Malissa's mind.
Somewhere across the world, events were beginning to unfold.
But here...
Life simply went on.