Chapter26 Who Makes You Happier?
Chloe
The next morning at ten-thirty, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the break room, cradling a coffee cup.
I'd just submitted the report that was originally due yesterday—finally—and for the first time since joining Astor Capital, I had a moment to breathe.
Ryan sidled up beside me, lowering his voice to mimic Madison's expression when she received the CEO's email yesterday. "You didn't see her face," he drawled, stretching out the words. "She looked like she'd swallowed a fly."
I couldn't help but lower my head and laugh softly—the first genuine, unburdened laugh I'd had since starting here.
Ryan was a good person. At least he didn't target me like Madison did, and he didn't look at me with that calculating suspicion I'd seen from my Goldman colleagues.
With Julian, I was always tense. Even last night when he'd been impossibly gentle, I couldn't completely let my guard down. But here with Ryan, I could just... relax. Not think too much. Just laugh at a stupid joke about our difficult boss.
Back at my desk, my phone buzzed—Julian's internal message. Three words: "Come see me."
I gripped my phone and took a deep breath. I'd just submitted the report, thought I'd have peace until lunch. Didn't expect to be summoned so soon. I straightened my blazer collar before standing.
Ryan shot me a questioning look. I shrugged politely: "The CEO wants to see me. Probably needs revisions on the report."
I knocked, entered. Julian stood with his back to me at the window, turning an amber-filled tumbler in his hand. He didn't turn around, just said: "Lock the door."
I heard the soft click of the lock engaging, my heartbeat inexplicably quickening. I couldn't help but remember what had happened in this office yesterday afternoon—his kiss, his possessiveness, his promise to "make me remember tonight."
He'd certainly delivered on that promise. My lower back still ached a bit.
I approached somewhat uneasily, stopping two steps behind him, waiting. The air carried an indescribable pressure, like the calm before a storm.
Julian set down his glass, turned, and in one fluid motion pulled me by the wrist to stand in front of him, positioning me with my back against the window. He braced both arms on the glass, caging me in, lowering his head until his chin rested on top of my hair.
His voice was low: "With Ryan, you seemed very happy?"
I froze for a second—so he'd seen the break room scene. Thinking of Ryan's joke just now, I answered honestly: "It was okay. He's funny, makes people relax."
The moment the words left my mouth, I felt his lips touch my neck—not a bite, just a light brush, but the warmth made me instantly stiffen. My heart raced and I instinctively realized—my answer might have been wrong.
I sensed the undercurrent in his emotions but couldn't quite gauge what answer he actually wanted. Last night he'd already "claimed ownership" through action, so why was he asking this today? Was he seriously jealous of Ryan?
Julian lifted his head, those amber eyes looking directly at me, his tone as calm as if discussing a merger deal: "And with me? Are you happy?"
I quickly sorted through my thoughts: With Ryan, I could laugh freely, not overthink things, just like with the few Goldman colleagues I didn't hate.
With Julian, I was always on guard, my heart always irregular, every word passing through three layers of review before I spoke—but that feeling wasn't the same as relaxation.
Last night when he'd held me as I fell asleep, I'd felt a safety I'd never experienced before. Despite the tension and heart palpitations, I was genuinely... happy.
I was silent for five seconds. His palm covered the back of my hand, his thumb slowly rubbing across my knuckles. The gesture reminded me of his gentleness when he'd applied medicine—that contrast still felt somewhat unreal.
I raised my eyes, meeting his directly: "With you..." I paused, "I feel very happy."
Julian narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying a hint of dangerous levity: "Because you're afraid I'll get angry? Or afraid I'll 'punish' you like last night?"
My face instantly burned—he was actually bringing up last night in broad daylight! But I knew he was waiting for a real answer. I thought for a moment, then turned my head slightly, gently pressing my cheek against his palm, seriously shaking my head: "No. It's true."
I felt his breathing pause for an instant, then his fingers tightened slightly, as if confirming my existence. I didn't know why I'd made that gesture, but right then I just wanted him to know—I wasn't lying to him.
Julian withdrew his hand but lifted my chin gently, making me meet his gaze. "So," his voice dropped slightly, carrying a certain stubbornness, "who makes you happier?"
I looked directly into those amber eyes and saw the hidden insecurity there—he cared about the answer, cared very much. I suddenly understood—he wasn't jealous of Ryan. He just wanted to know if he was special to me.
I was silent for three seconds, then said clearly: "You."
The corner of Julian's mouth lifted slightly—not his usual cold smile, but a small, genuine curve. He released my chin, his thumb gently rubbing the corner of my mouth, as if confirming the truth of this answer.
I felt like a current had lightly swept across my lips, the tingling sensation spreading along my nerves.
For a moment I almost wanted to lick that spot, then immediately realized how absurd that thought was—we were in the office, during work hours—and forcibly shifted my gaze to the Los Angeles skyline outside the window, pretending nonchalance.
Julian said quietly: "Go back to work, Ms. Harrison. The report was excellent. Madison couldn't find anything wrong with it."
I nodded, turned, walked to the door, my hand pausing on the lock for a second—I knew my face was red, and I knew he'd definitely seen it.
After that jealousy-tinged interrogation in Julian's office this morning—where he'd practically caged me against the window demanding to know who made me happier—I'd been walking on eggshells all morning, overly cautious of every interaction with Ryan.
I was staring at my screen, trying to focus on the quarterly earnings analysis Ryan had just sent over, when my phone buzzed with Julian's text: "Lunch is waiting in my office. 38th floor. Come up."
My heart did that stupid flutter thing it had been doing a lot lately. Lunch in his office meant being alone with him, which meant... I didn't even know what it meant anymore.
Ryan rolled his chair over before I could respond. "Chloe, want to hit the cafeteria? I heard they're doing lobster today."