Chapter 140 009
ADRIAN stood at the foot of his bed, folding a crisp white shirt with mechanical precision. The room was unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that pressed into his ears and forced his thoughts inward. A small suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled with neatly arranged clothes— nothing excessive, nothing indulgent. Just the essentials.
God! He remembered. He remembered when Amelia used to do this for him, years ago, with that precision, love and care she always carried.
He reached for another shirt, paused, then swapped it for a darker one. Practical. Always practical.
He placed a slim folder into the side compartment of the suitcase— documents, contracts, printed schedules, then slid in his tablet and a leather-bound notebook he never traveled without. His movements were calm, controlled, but there was a tension beneath them, like a man counting seconds without looking at the clock.
His phone buzzed on the bed.
He ignored it at first, zipping the inner pouch of the suitcase, then straightened and picked up the phone. One glance at the screen told him who it was.
“Peter,” he muttered before answering.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, sir,” Peter’s voice came through brisk and alert. “I suppose you are at the airport now?”
Adrian scoffed, dragging the zipper of the suitcase shut.
“I wish I was.”
There was a brief pause on the line.
“Sir… please tell me you are not still at home.”
“I am,” Adrian replied plainly, lifting the suitcase off the bed. “Very much so.”
Peter exhaled audibly.
“This is exactly why I insisted you left the city yesterday evening.”
“Oh please,” Adrian said, rolling his eyes as he set the suitcase down again. “I’m not a kid.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Peter replied carefully, “you have a habit of underestimating time when you think you can manage everything yourself.”
Adrian smirked.
“And yet, everything still gets managed.”
“Yes,” Peter agreed quickly, “but not without unnecessary stress.”
Adrian shook his head, amused despite himself.
“You worry too much.”
“Someone has to,” Peter said. “This meeting isn’t just another handshake and dinner. We have been working toward this for months. If it goes well, it opens another set of doors we have been knocking on for years.”
“I’m aware,” Adrian replied, lifting the suitcase again and glancing around the room to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. “I’m still the CEO, remember?”
Peter chuckled lightly.
“I would never forget.”
They continued talking as Adrian walked out of the bedroom, the sound of his shoes echoing softly against the marble floor as he descended the stairs.
“Do you remember the figures from the last quarter?” Peter asked.
“Down to the last decimal,” Adrian replied without missing a step. “Projected growth at twelve percent if negotiations go our way. Eighteen if they push for expansion.”
“That is correct,” Peter said, clearly pleased. “And the revised proposal?”
“Already in the folder,” Adrian said, adjusting his grip on the suitcase. “Tab three.”
“Good.”
They reached the living room. Adrian paused briefly, scanning the space— the couch, the quiet windows, the stillness that felt heavier than it should.
“I will be gone a few days,” Adrian said, his tone shifting slightly. “Keep an eye on things.”
“Always,” Peter replied. “I will make sure nothing falls through the cracks.”
“I know you will,” Adrian said. “That’s why you are there.”
There was a moment of silence between them, unspoken trust passing through the line.
“I will see you soon, sir,” Peter said finally.
“Yes,” Adrian replied. “Take care of the company.”
“I will.”
The call ended.
Adrian slipped his phone into his pocket, picked up the suitcase, and headed for the door, ready or not.
Hazel stood in the middle of the twins’ room, one knee on the floor, the other bent as she tugged carefully at a shoelace. The morning sun filtered in through the curtains, casting soft stripes across the rumpled beds and the school bags lined neatly by the wall. Breakfast plates had already been cleared away, lunches packed and placed by the door. Their mother had left earlier, perfume still lingering faintly in the hallway.
“Stand still, Gabriel,” Hazel said, her tone patient but firm.
“I am standing still,” Gabriel protested, wobbling slightly as he balanced on one foot.
“You are swaying like a tree in the wind,” Gaddiel laughed, hopping onto the bed. “You are going to fall.”
“I won’t!” Gabriel said, puffing his chest.
Hazel tightened the knot and let go.
“There. Done. Now put your foot down before you break something.”
Gabriel grinned and obeyed.
As Hazel reached for Gaddiel’s uniform jacket, Gabriel suddenly looked up, his brows knitting together in a way that reminded her painfully of their father.
“Hazel,” he said, “is Daddy coming to pick us up today?”
Hazel’s hands paused mid-air.
Gaddiel slid off the bed immediately.
“Yes,” he added quickly, nodding. “He didn’t pick us up last week. He has to come today.”
Hazel exhaled slowly, then resumed straightening Gaddiel’s collar.
“No,” she said gently. “Dad won’t be coming this week.”
The room went quiet.
Both boys stared at her.
“Why?” they asked together, their voices small.
Hazel knelt again, focusing on Gabriel’s shoe, fingers busy with the lace.
“Because he won’t be around,” she said after a moment. “He travelled for work.”
Gaddiel shrugged, accepting it far too easily.
“Oh.” Then his face brightened. “Well, Uncle Charles would pick us up, right, Hazel?”
Hazel’s hands stilled completely.
Her jaw tightened, though she kept her eyes on the shoe. “No,” she said shortly. “He won’t.”
Gabriel tilted his head.
“Then who?”
Hazel tied the knot firmly and stood up, brushing her hands on her skirt. She looked at them both, forcing a small smile.
“Somehow, we will find our way home, my babies.”
Gaddiel frowned.
“But Daddy always comes.”
“I know,” Hazel said softly.
Gabriel reached for her hand.
“Will he call?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “He always does.”
That seemed to comfort them a little.
“Race you to the door!” Gaddiel suddenly shouted.
Before Hazel could respond, both boys took off, their laughter filling the house as they chased each other down the hallway, socks skidding against the floor.
“Hey! Be careful!” Hazel called after them.
She shook her head, then turned back into the room, grabbing her bag from the chair. As she slung it over her shoulder, their laughter echoed again, loud and carefree, too young to understand absences, too young to know what was changing.
Hazel paused for a brief second, her chest tightening, before stepping out to join them.