Chapter 54 A Date Under The Lisbon Sky
We only wanted to get the business meeting with the Lisbon subsidiary over with.
That was the truth of it.
Because by the time morning came, I felt like I’d been holding my breath for days.
Jack watched me flip through my notes one last time, and after a moment, he murmured, almost dryly, “If anyone tries to start another three-hour debate about restructuring, I might throw myself out the window.”
I looked up instantly at him, blinking.
Then I laughed. “Please don’t,” I said. “I don’t want to explain to Lisbon authorities why my husband launched himself off a corporate building.”
His mouth twitched as he scratched the back of his head. “No promises.”
As we left the suite and stepped into the waiting car, I could feel it in my chest that today wasn’t just another meeting, it felt like closure.
The drive to Vale Corp’s Lisbon subsidiary was quiet. The city was already awake, Jack sat beside me, one arm resting casually against the seat, but I noticed the way his fingers flexed once or twice.
I glanced at him. “Are you okay?”
His eyes flicked toward me. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t push.
After a beat, he said quietly, “I'm just ready to be done with all of this.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
By the time we arrived at the building, the tone was already different. It was in the air.
The lobby staff straightened the moment we entered and heads turned, conversations dipped into silence for half a second too long.
Jack and I rode the elevator up without speaking. His shoulder brushed mine slightly and the contact felt oddly anchoring.
When the doors opened, the boardroom with long glass table and polished floors awaited us.
It was the kind of room that was designed to look clean and modern while quietly suffocating anyone who sat inside it too long.
I walked in first, smoothing my blazer and folding my hands with precision as I took my seat.
Then I scanned the room and made eye contact with every board member.
Jack sat beside me, present but not looming, his posture relaxed in a way that still radiated control. He wasn’t the loudest person in the room because he never needed to be.
The meeting began.
There were no excessive pleasantries this time or drawn-out introductions. If anything, everyone seemed to sense it too that today wasn’t for theatrics.
We moved through projections, timeliness, and revised strategy.
I clarified numbers, corrected assumptions, answered questions with calm certainty.
And at one point, a director asked, “Ms. Vale, are you confident the Portugal supply chain will stabilize within the quarter?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” I said evenly. “Because we’re not treating symptoms anymore. We’re cutting out the infection outrightly.”
The room stilled slightly at that.
Jack’s gaze sharpened, like he knew exactly what I meant.
Another member leaned forward. “And if the infection is internal?”
Jack spoke then, his voice was low but precise. “Then we find who’s bleeding the company from the inside,” he said, “and we stop them before they take the rest of it down.”
Hours passed, but not like last time.
This meeting had momentum—a purpose.
Loose ends were tied off, and agreements were reached.
And then, near the end, one of the senior board members spoke. A greying man with sharp eyes and a mind that missed nothing.
He leaned forward slightly, studying me like he was seeing past my name and into my spine.
“Your father would be proud, Ms. Vale.”
The words landed in my chest like a stone dropped into still water.
For half a second, I felt something tighten in my chest.
My father..
The ghost that still hovered in the corners of everything I built and worked hard for.
The legacy that was both armor and weight.
I held the pause before I nodded graciously.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I intend to honor everything he built—by evolving beyond it.”
The silence after that wasn’t really awkward and when the chairperson finally adjourned, the air had shifted completely to resolution.
People stood, gathering papers. One by one, they approached me with handshakes and affirmations.
A petite woman murmured, “You’ve got this. The company’s in good hands.”
Another simply nodded with serious eyes.
Jack hovered just behind my shoulder, his arms loosely crossed and his expression was unreadable but… proud.
When the last document was signed and the last person left the room, Jack leaned closer, his voice was low. “You did it.”
I turned slightly toward him, my shoulders finally loosening. “We did,” I corrected.
His mouth twitched into a grin.
Outside, Lisbon greeted us with sunlight and a mild breeze.
I stepped out of the building and exhaled deeply, like I’d been carrying a weight I hadn’t fully acknowledged until it lifted.
“God,” I muttered, a smile tugging at my lips. “I can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”
Jack gave me a sidelong glance, smirking.
“You really doubted us?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I doubted them. But us?” I shrugged lightly. “Not so much.”
We walked back toward the car, the thought of soft sheets and silence pulling at me harder than any tourist attraction ever could.
And there's the thought that there would be battles waiting back home in New York.
But here in Lisbon, I knew I'd earned respect, not as Vale Corp’s heiress but as a woman who had stepped into her father’s empire and made it hers.
When we arrived and reached the hotel's
elevator, the doors slid open with a soft chime.
Jack turned to me, and something in his eyes shifted.
“How about a date?” he asked, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Dinner—just the two of us. No ridiculous spreadsheets... Just you, me… and a reason to celebrate.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice and the intimacy of it.
A flush rose instantly to my cheeks, annoying in its honesty and then my gaze dropped before I could stop it—straight to his forearms, tattoos coiling like secrets beneath rolled sleeves.
He adjusted his cuff, his muscles flexed slightly as I blushed deeper.
“I thought we were going to rest,” I murmured, trying—and failing—to sound unaffected.
He shrugged, a grin tugging at his mouth.
“Celebrating is a form of rest. Just with better lighting and good wine.”
I tried to bite back my smile but I failed.
“Fine,” I said. “But only because you’re paying.”
Jack chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Back at the suite, when I pulled out my phone from my bag, Damien's name flashed on my screen and my breath hitched immediately. I instantly threw my phone on the bed like it had burned me. Why the hell was he calling?
It felt like oxygen had been ripped out of my lungs as I clutched my chest and tried to breathe. But the memories of being his sweet little wife two years ago resurfaced at the back of my mind.
Why now?
"No, no, no, Elena..." I berated myself mentally.
So I gave myself exactly two hours to breathe and unwind.
Two hours to stand in front of the closet and second-guess myself at least five times. I managed to finally recollect myself.
Jack lounged in the living area, loosening his tie, watching me with slight amusement when I emerged with one dress, then disappeared again.
Finally, I settled with a bold red dress. It was strapless, figure-hugging, with a slit that kissed my thigh like a secret dare. I quickly punched back the tightness in my chest as I exhaled slowly.
The reflection of me that stared back was a version of myself I hadn’t worn in a long time.
When Jack knocked lightly and I stepped out, his reaction was immediate. He stood near the window in a sleek black tuxedo, his tie undone just enough to make it feel effortless instead of stiff.
He turned toward me fully and for a moment, he just stared like he was speechless.
His gaze moved slowly, from my heels to my eyes. “You clean up dangerously well,” he smirked. “I might actually forget how to behave.”
Heat rose in my chest despite the terror that had gripped me a while ago.
I smiled, tilting my head slightly. “Good,” I murmured. “I was hoping for a little misbehavior.”
Something dark and pleased flickered in his eyes before he offered his arm.
I took it, my heart pounding in a rhythm that had nothing to do with boardrooms.
The restaurant he chose sat high above the city, overlooking a river.
The kind of place with glass walls and candlelight, a place where time slowed.
The view was breathtaking—golden lights scattered across the water like stars sinking into earth.
Jack and I talked and laughed and I slowly forgot the image of Damien's name on my phone screen.
At some point, Jack leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice hushed like it was meant only for me.
“You know…” His gaze flicked briefly down to the neckline of my dress before meeting my eyes again. “I’ve seen you fight for your name, your company and your independence.”
I held my breath without meaning to.
“But tonight,” he continued, “I’m just glad I get to sit across from you and see you smile without thinking of what comes next.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly. Then I lifted my glass, sipping just to give myself something to do. But my lips curved slightly anyway.
When he took my hand across the table, his fingers brushed my knuckles like a promise, I didn’t pull away.
By the time we stepped outside, Lisbon’s sky was deep navy, the breeze cool but gentle.
Jack draped his jacket over my shoulders without asking and I didn’t protest.
We walked back slowly, like neither of us wanted to return to reality just yet. And as we stood in front of the elevator again, my mind reeled.
"Hello, wife."
Damien?
I turned sharply.