Chapter 59

Angela POV

I quickly shut off my phone. Emily was the first to move. Without a word, she stepped forward and began arranging reports on my desk with careful precision. Her movements were different now-gentler, almost protective.

"The quarterly projections, Angela," she said softly, meeting my eyes with quiet understanding. "I've highlighted the key points from the Asian markets."

Michael closed the door behind him and moved to stand beside Emily. Though his face was composed as ever, his eyes held an unexpected warmth.

"Angela," he said, his voice low and careful as he placed his own stack of documents beside Emily's. "The board meeting has been rescheduled to three o'clock." He paused, studying my face with quiet concern.

"I've also taken the liberty of clearing your morning schedule. You've been working exceptionally hard lately. Perhaps some rest would be beneficial."

The gentle consideration in his voice made my eyes burn with unexpected tears.

These two people-who had been thrust into the middle of this complicated situation through no fault of their own-were already moving to protect me, finding ways to lighten my burden without explicitly acknowledging why.

"I..." My voice caught, and I had to take a moment to steady it. "Thank you. Both of you."

Emily's hand twitched, as if she wanted to reach out to me but was restraining herself.

"I'll make sure to have fresh tea available in your office throughout the day," she said softly, her words careful and measured. "And perhaps some light snacks. Just in case you need anything during those long meetings."

I stared at her, touched by the simple thoughtfulness of the gesture. "You don't have to-"

"We want to," Michael interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "Whatever you need, Angela. Whatever helps."

They turned to leave, moving in perfect synchronization as if they'd choreographed it.

At the door, Emily paused, her hand resting lightly on the frame. Without turning around, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with conviction，"We're on your side, Angela. Always."

Michael stood just behind her, his presence solid and reassuring. "No matter what," he added quietly, and in those three words I heard a pledge of loyalty that went far beyond professional obligation.

They slipped out quietly, closing the door behind them.

Their loyalty wrapped around me like a protective blanket-unexpected and precious, like the secret growing beneath my heart.

The executive conference room felt unusually tense that afternoon.

"With all due respect, Mr. Shaw," Michael said, his tone suggesting respect was the last thing on his mind, "but that strategy seems shortsighted given the current market volatility."

Sean's eyebrows rose slightly at the challenge. I could see confusion flash across his face before he composed himself.

"Elaborate," he commanded.

Michael launched into a detailed critique that, while technically sound, carried an unmistakable edge of hostility. I watched as Sean's jaw tightened, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table.

When the meeting finally ended, Sean called out, "Michael, a moment."

But Michael was already gathering his materials with efficient movements. "My apologies, Mr. Shaw, but I have another meeting scheduled. Perhaps we can discuss this tomorrow."

He left before Sean could respond, his departure just barely on the professional side of abrupt.

Sean turned to me, confusion evident in his green eyes. "What was that about?"

I kept my expression neutral as I stood, gathering my own materials. "Perhaps he's just having a bad day."

"He's the most even-tempered person I know. Or at least, he was until today." Sean countered.

I shrugged and chuckled to myself. Michael's behavior was a bit childish, but it still made me feel warm inside.

Back in our penthouse that evening, I found a garment bag hanging on my closet door. The Chanel label caught the light, and a small card was pinned to the front: "For tonight's dinner at Christopher's. - S"

Inside was a midnight blue evening gown, its silk surface catching the light like liquid starlight.

My phone buzzed with a text from Christopher: "Looking forward to seeing you tonight, Angel."

I stared at the message, then back at the dress. The evening stretched before me like a minefield, with Christopher's mysterious agenda, Christina's inevitable presence, and now this unexpectedly thoughtful gesture from Sean.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Sean appeared in the doorway. He'd already changed into a black tuxedo, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck. His eyes met mine in the mirror.

"The dress should fit perfectly," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I had Sarah check your recent measurements."

I wondered if he'd noticed the subtle changes in my body, if he'd registered the slight softening of my waistline even before I had.

"Thank you," I replied, matching his neutral tone. "It's beautiful."

He stepped closer. "We should leave by seven. Christopher's particularly insistent about your attendance tonight."

Sean's hand reached out, almost touching my cheek before dropping back to his side. "Just... stay close to me tonight."

His sudden gentleness felt strange to me. But I tried to reassure myself-it was just one evening, what could possibly go wrong?

Christopher's townhouse stood as a masterpiece of understated luxury on one of the city's most prestigious streets, its limestone facade glowing warmly in the evening light.

As Sean and I ascended the front steps together, I could feel the eyes of the other guests on us.

We made quite the picture-Sean in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, the cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and athletic build, while I wore a midnight blue gown that seemed to catch every shimmer of light. The sapphire earrings completed the ensemble, twinkling with each step.

I caught sight of Christina across the room, her fingers tightening visibly around her champagne glass as she took in our entrance.

The flash of raw jealousy in her eyes was unmistakable-Sean and I looked every bit the perfect couple, and she knew it. Her dramatic red gown suddenly seemed gaudy in comparison, trying too hard where my outfit spoke of effortless elegance.

But within seconds, her expression transformed into a bright, artificial smile.

"Angela, darling!" She approached us, her voice honey-sweet with practiced charm, though I could still see the tension in her shoulders.

"That dress is absolutely perfect on you. I knew it would be when I helped Sean pick it out."

Her words hit me like ice water, sending an uncomfortable chill down my spine.

Had Sean Really Let Her Choose My Dress?

The thought of them shopping together, Christina offering opinions about what would suit me... I pushed the image away, forcing myself to breathe slowly, steadily.

I felt Sean stiffen slightly beside me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at his expression, afraid of what I might see there.

Instead, I kept my smile carefully in place, making sure my voice remained perfectly steady. "Did you? How thoughtful."