Marked Confidential

Liv Tanaka had seen many things in her years working alongside Cassandra Sy and Adrielle Hidalgo—boardroom battles, impossible deadlines, and ruthless negotiations—but nothing, nothing, was as exhausting as watching the two butt heads when one of them was pissed off.

And today? Today was one of those days.

It started first thing in the morning, when Cassandra walked into the office looking completely unbothered. That was already a red flag.

Cassandra was always precise, efficient, and hyper focused but today, there was something else. A certain sharpness in her movements, like she was bracing for something. The way she greeted the employees, cool, polite, but lacking the usual warmth told Liv everything she needed to know.

Something was brewing.

And then Adrielle arrived.

Normally, Adrielle entered the building with an effortless kind of presence, a powerful yet approachable, charismatic yet intimidating in all the right ways. But today? Today, she was a storm wrapped in designer heels.

Liv watched from her office as Adrielle strode through the hallways in full CEO mode, her heels clicking against the marble floors a little too aggressively. Her usual easygoing smirk? Gone. Instead, her jaw was tight, her shoulders squared, and her expression screamed murder is on the table today.

The moment she passed Cassandra’s office without so much as a glance inside, Liv knew Cassandra definitely did something. And judging by the way Adrielle slammed her own office door shut behind her?

Oh yeah. She was definitely still pissed.

With the instincts of a seasoned observer (and a slightly entertained friend), Liv casually strolled into Cassandra’s office a few minutes later. She didn’t bother knocking.

She plopped down in one of the chairs across Cassandra’s desk, crossing one leg over the other. "Alright, spill. What did you do?"

Cassandra, as expected, didn’t look up from her laptop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Liv scoffed. "Oh, please. Adrielle just walked past here like you don’t exist. If looks could kill, your glass office would’ve shattered."

Cassandra finally exhaled, rubbing her temple. "It’s not that serious. She’s overreacting."

Liv raised a brow. "Ah, meaning you did do something."

Cassandra sighed, clearly not in the mood to explain, which only made Liv more curious. But before she could pry further, Adrielle’s voice rang through the intercom.

"Cassandra, let’s move up the finance meeting to 10 AM. No delays."

Liv smirked. Oof. That was icy.

Cassandra, to her credit, kept her expression neutral. "Noted."

The intercom clicked off. Liv whistled. "Yeah, you’re doomed."

It was hilarious.

And completely exhausting.

By the time the finance meeting started, Liv had front row seats to the slowest, most passive-aggressive war she had ever witnessed.

Adrielle didn’t look at Cassandra once.

Not. Once.

Normally, the two bounced ideas off each other, their dynamic an effortless balance of strategy and precision. Today, however, Adrielle directed all her questions around Cassandra, addressing only the department heads.

"Ms. Tanaka, do you have the revised reports?"

Liv raised a brow. "Yeah, I sent them this morning."

"Good," Adrielle said briskly, flipping through the files. "And as for the expansion proposals, I assume Mr. Co has already run those numbers?"

Across the table, Cassandra sat with her arms crossed, cool and composed. If she was annoyed, she wasn’t showing it. Which only seemed to piss Adrielle off more.

Oh, this was better than watching a high stakes poker match.

And Liv? Liv was stuck in the middle, trying not to laugh.

Then came the working lunch with potential investors.

Cassandra, ever the composed one, made the introductions, her tone effortlessly smooth. "This is Adrielle Hidalgo, our highly strategic CEO."

Liv didn’t miss the flicker in Adrielle’s eyes.

Not ‘brilliant CEO’? Not ‘visionary leader’?

Yup. Cassandra was so screwed.

Adrielle, to her credit, smiled at the investors, but Liv caught the flicker of irritation in her eyes, the way she pressed her lips together just a fraction too tightly.

Oh, Cassandra was in trouble.

By mid afternoon, Liv was sipping her third cup of coffee when she overheard Cassandra on a conference call. Her voice, normally calm and authoritative, carried a sharpness to it.

"Yes, I understand. I’ll consult Ms. Hidalgo about it."

Ms. Hidalgo.

Liv nearly choked on her drink.

Across from her, Mira side eyed Liv over her laptop screen, her fingers pausing over the keyboard.

"Ms. Hidalgo?" Mira murmured, barely concealing her smirk.

Liv grinned. "Yup."

Mira hummed, casually sipping her tea. "Interesting."

They exchanged knowing looks.

No one in the company knew about Cassandra and Adrielle’s marriage. Officially, they were just two highly respected, fiercely competitive business partners. Unofficially? Liv had spent years watching them flirt, fight, and fall into each other’s arms.

This? This was the marital equivalent of a cold war.

And Liv was loving every second of it.

By the end of the workday, the tension had reached suffocating levels.

Liv had seen Cassandra run multi million dollar negotiations without breaking a sweat. She had seen Adrielle charm an entire boardroom into agreeing with her before they even realized what had happened. But today? They had spent the whole day pretending the other didn’t exist.

Liv couldn’t take it anymore.

She caught up with Adrielle as they left the office, falling into step beside her.

"So, are you gonna tell me why you’ve been shooting daggers at Cassandra all day, or do I have to wait for you two to start throwing actual things at each other?"

Adrielle, who had been scrolling through emails on her phone, didn’t even glance up. "I’m not shooting daggers at her."

Liv gave her a flat look. "Mhm. Sure. And Cassandra hasn’t been calling you ‘Ms. Hidalgo’ like you’re just another executive?"

Adrielle’s grip on her phone tightened.

Bingo.

Liv smirked. "Come on, spill. What did she do?"

Adrielle let out a sharp exhale, crossing her arms. "She downplayed our relationship again."

Liv barely held back a snort. "During what? A meeting?"

"This morning," Adrielle muttered, eyes still fixed ahead. "She told someone we were ‘close colleagues.’ Colleagues, Liv. As if we didn’t just wake up in the same bed a few hours ago."

Oh, Liv was definitely gonna use this against them later.

Liv wheezed. "Oh my god. No wonder you’re trying to kill her with your mind."

Adrielle huffed, looking away. "I’m just reminding her that I exist."

Liv groaned, rubbing her temples. "You guys are so exhausting."

Adrielle finally cracked a small smile. "You love us."

"Sure, but I’d love you more if you just talked to her instead of trying to outmaneuver each other like a couple of billionaires fighting for a hostile takeover."

Adrielle didn’t respond, but Liv saw the way her fingers twitched like she was considering it. Good. Because Liv really wasn’t looking forward to another full day of this nonsense.

Liv had expected the cold war between Cassandra and Adrielle to fizzle out overnight. Maybe some begrudging truce behind closed doors, or at least an acknowledgment that they were being ridiculous.

But no.

When Adrielle arrived at the office, she was all business greeting the team, shaking hands with department heads, and making conversation with executives like she hadn’t spent the entirety of yesterday glaring holes into Cassandra.

Cassandra, meanwhile, was perfectly composed as always. If she was feeling guilty (which she absolutely should be), she didn’t show it. Instead, she moved through her morning meetings with precision, handling presentations like the tension between her and Adrielle didn’t exist.

It would’ve been impressive if Liv weren’t so annoyed.

By mid morning, Liv was in a strategy meeting with both of them. The energy was different today, less overt hostility, more controlled tension.

Adrielle still wasn’t looking at Cassandra much, but when she did, it was with a clipped professionalism that was somehow worse than her outright ignoring her. Cassandra, for her part, kept her tone perfectly neutral, her words measured. But Liv could tell she was being extra careful.

At one point, an executive made a suggestion that Adrielle disagreed with. Usually, she and Cassandra would seamlessly play off each other with Adrielle taking the strategic angle, Cassandra hammering down the financials. But today, Adrielle simply said, “I don’t think that’s the right approach,” and left it at that. She didn’t look at Cassandra. Didn’t pass the conversation to her like usual. Just let the words hang.

Cassandra, who normally would’ve added her perspective immediately, took half a second too long before responding. “I’ll run the numbers on alternative strategies.”

Liv barely held back an eye roll. This was painful.

The meeting wrapped up, and as everyone started filing out, Liv lingered, watching the two of them from the doorway.

Adrielle was gathering her papers, moving a little too efficiently. Cassandra was taking her time packing up her laptop. For a second, it looked like neither of them would say anything.

Then, finally—subtle, almost too quiet—Cassandra said, “You handled that well.”

It wasn’t much. But coming from Cassandra, it was basically an olive branch.

Adrielle didn’t respond right away. Then, just as she was about to walk out, she murmured, “I know.”

Not a thanks. Not a full thaw. But it wasn’t another ice-cold shutdown either.

Progress.

Liv smirked to herself as she followed them out. This was going to be interesting.

By lunchtime, Liv was no longer just observing, she was suffering.

The tension between Adrielle and Cassandra had shifted from outright cold to something quieter, something almost tolerable. Almost. But it was excruciating for someone like Liv, who was attuned to every micro interaction between these two.

They were being careful with each other.

And Liv hated when they were careful.

She watched as Adrielle walked past Cassandra in the hallway, maintaining the perfect amount of space between them just enough to be professional, but noticeably not their usual rhythm.

She saw Cassandra pause mid email draft when Adrielle entered the conference room, like she was mentally recalibrating how to act before speaking.

During an impromptu brainstorming session in the afternoon, Liv caught Cassandra passing Adrielle the printouts without looking directly at her. Adrielle took them, but instead of her usual casual nod, she gave a clipped, “Thanks.”

Oh my God. This was painful. Still, it was better than yesterday.

By mid afternoon, the cracks in their ice fortress were finally showing.

They were in yet another meeting—because apparently, no one in this company ever got tired of meetings—when it happened.

One of the senior managers presented an idea, and while the logic was there, the execution was… well. Terrible.

Adrielle, naturally, was the first to call it out. “That’s not feasible within our current expansion timeline.”

The room fell into a hush, waiting for Cassandra’s take.

She didn’t disappoint. “Not unless you’re planning to bend the laws of economics and time.”

A beat.

Then a small, barely there twitch at the corner of Adrielle’s lips.

It was quick, almost imperceptible. But Liv caught it.

Even Cassandra caught it, because the moment it happened, her shoulders which were always squared, always poised relaxed just slightly.

No one else noticed, too focused on their own panic over being shut down by the two CEOs. But Liv saw it. The old dynamic wasn’t fully back yet, but it was creeping in.

And by the time the meeting ended, Liv felt her first real glimmer of hope.

By the end of the day, the difference was undeniable.

Adrielle wasn’t avoiding Cassandra anymore. She still wasn’t fully engaging like she usually did, but there were little things. A glance. A shorter pause before responding. A more natural exchange of ideas.

Cassandra, for her part, had stopped being so deliberately measured around Adrielle. She still wasn’t throwing around casual remarks or slipping into their usual rhythm, but she also wasn’t treating Adrielle like she was made of glass anymore.

It was progress. Painfully slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

By the time Liv was gathering her things to leave, she spotted Adrielle heading toward the elevators. A few seconds later, Cassandra emerged from her office, phone in hand, clearly about to head out as well.

For a split second, Liv thought Cassandra might call out to her. Might say something.

But Cassandra just watched Adrielle step into the elevator. Then, instead of taking the same one like she normally would, she waited for the next.

Liv sighed.

Not fully there yet.

But better.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, Liv was sure it would be better still.

By the time Cassandra arrived home, the tension from the past two days sat heavy on her shoulders. She could already feel Adrielle’s presence the moment she stepped inside even before she saw her.

The house was quiet, save for the faint clinking of a spoon on a mug. Cassandra exhaled slowly, shutting the door behind her, already bracing herself. She had spent the whole day carefully measuring her words, her movements, everything. It was exhausting.

And now? Now there was no audience, no corporate image to maintain, no excuse to keep pretending everything was fine.

She found Adrielle in the living room, sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, a cup in hand. She wasn’t looking at Cassandra, her gaze fixed on something distant.

Great. That was never a good sign.

Cassandra took off her blazer, hanging it neatly before walking over. She kept her tone neutral. “You’re still up.”

Adrielle swirled the glass absently. “Hard to sleep when my close colleague isn’t home yet.”

Ah.

Cassandra closed her eyes briefly, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. So we’re starting with that, huh? A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then Adrielle finally turned her head, sharp eyes locking onto Cassandra. “Are you going to keep pretending like nothing happened?”

Cassandra met her gaze evenly. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

Adrielle let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t get it, do you?” She set her cup down a little too firmly on the coffee table. “Cassandra, you brushed off our relationship in front of people again—like it’s something insignificant.”

Cassandra sighed. “You know why we’re doing this.”

“I know your reason,” Adrielle shot back. “And I’ve respected it for years. But I also know that there’s a difference between keeping things private and erasing what we are.”

Cassandra clenched her jaw. “It’s not erasing—”

“It is,” Adrielle interrupted, voice rising. “And it’s not just at work, Cassandra! I see it everywhere. You hold back, even when we’re alone. You calculate every move, every word. It’s like I’m always walking a tightrope with you.”

That struck deeper than Cassandra wanted to admit.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. “Adrielle, this—” She gestured vaguely between them. “It’s complicated. We built something huge. Our names are tied to an entire empire. The second people know we’re together—”

“Married, Cassandra. Not just together—married.” Adrielle’s voice dropped, the weight of the word settling between them.

Cassandra’s throat tightened.

Adrielle shook her head, standing up. “You don’t get it. You’re always so sure of everything. Your decisions, your business strategies, your goddamn forecasts. But with this?” She placed a hand over her own chest. “With me? You’re hesitant. Careful. Like you’re waiting for some invisible risk analysis to tell you it’s safe.”

Cassandra stared at her, unable to look away.

And the worst part?

Adrielle wasn’t wrong.

Cassandra had spent her entire life making calculated choices. But love—love wasn’t something she could map out on a spreadsheet.

Adrielle took a breath, voice quieter now, but no less firm. “I don’t need grand declarations. I don’t need you to shout it from the rooftops. But I need to know that you’re in this with me. That you’re not just tolerating the parts of us that exist outside of work.”

Another silence stretched between them.

And then Cassandra, for once in her life, let instinct take over.

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and reached out slowly, giving Adrielle the chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

Cassandra took Adrielle’s hands in hers, running her thumbs over the knuckles. “I’m in this,” she said quietly. “I always have been.”

Adrielle searched her face, something raw flickering in her expression. “Then stop making me feel like I have to remind you of that.”

Cassandra let out a slow breath. “Okay.”

Adrielle arched a brow, skeptical. “Just like that?”

Cassandra huffed a small, self deprecating laugh. “No. Not just like that. I know it’s not that simple. But I’ll do better.”

Adrielle didn’t say anything right away. But after a moment, she squeezed Cassandra’s hands, then let out a tired sigh.

“You drive me insane,” Adrielle muttered.

Cassandra smirked. “It’s part of my charm.”

Adrielle rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. And for the first time in two days, the weight in Cassandra’s chest felt a little lighter.

The tension between them had softened, but it still lingered in the air, unspoken but present. Cassandra could feel it in the way Adrielle’s hands remained in hers, warm, grounding but not quite pulling her in yet.

Another silence stretched, more comfortable this time.

Then Adrielle’s eyes flickered downward, scanning Cassandra’s face like she was still debating whether to fully let this go. “Did you eat?” she asked, voice softer now, but still carrying that slight edge that meant I care, but I’m still mad at you.

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond—

And at that exact moment, her stomach betrayed her with a loud, undeniable growl.

Adrielle blinked.

Cassandra closed her eyes, willing the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

And then—

Adrielle laughed.

Not just a small chuckle—no, it was a full, unrestrained laugh, the kind that she tried to hold back but couldn’t. Cassandra felt her cheeks heat as Adrielle covered her mouth with one hand, shaking her head.

“You haven’t eaten,” Adrielle accused, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Cassandra Sy, CEO of an empire, skipped meals because she was too busy sulking and being stubborn.”

Cassandra exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple. “I was busy.”

Adrielle raised an unimpressed brow. “Uh-huh. Busy being petty, you mean?”

Cassandra shot her a look, but Adrielle only smirked.

Then her expression softened slightly. “You didn’t eat last night either, did you?”

Cassandra hesitated.

Adrielle sighed knowingly. “Of course you didn’t.”

To be fair, it wasn’t just her. Neither of them had cooked dinner last night. Neither of them had spoken much at all. They had gone through the motions, coming home, showering, retreating to opposite sides of the house, both too damn stubborn to be the first to break.

And this morning? The kitchen had been dead silent.

No Adrielle making breakfast while humming. No teasing Cassandra to get up earlier for once and help. No anything.

Cassandra had felt the absence of it.

And judging by the way Adrielle was watching her now, she had too.

Adrielle sighed again, shaking her head before turning toward the kitchen. “Come on.”

Cassandra frowned. “Where are you going?”

Adrielle gave her a pointed look. “To cook, obviously. Unless you want to starve.”

Cassandra hesitated. “You’re still mad.”

Adrielle scoffed, walking ahead. “Of course I’m still mad. But I’m also hungry, and letting you collapse from hunger before we even fix this properly is not on my agenda.”

Cassandra followed without argument, relief settling in her bones.

This wasn’t a grand resolution. It wasn’t some sweeping, dramatic reconciliation.

But it was a start.

And as Adrielle moved around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients like it was second nature, Cassandra leaned against the counter, watching her, realizing...

She really had missed this.

The kitchen filled with the familiar sound of Adrielle chopping vegetables, the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of the knife against the cutting board grounding the atmosphere. Cassandra leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with a mix of wariness and… something else. Something softer.

Adrielle didn’t speak immediately, but her movements weren’t as sharp as they had been earlier. There was no outright hostility, just an air of I’m still mad, but I’m feeding you, so shut up and appreciate it.

Cassandra did.

For a while, silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t the unbearable kind from the past two days. It was more like the we’re both stubborn and processing this at our own pace kind of silence.

Eventually, Adrielle broke it.

“You know,” she started, stirring the pan. “I really thought you’d at least have the decency to make yourself something to eat last night.”

Cassandra exhaled, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I would have, but you also didn’t cook. And I wasn’t about to be the first to break.”

Adrielle shot her a look. “You were being petty.”

“You were also being petty.”

Adrielle huffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well. You deserved it.”

Cassandra didn’t argue. Instead, she watched as Adrielle moved effortlessly around the kitchen, like muscle memory. The way she reached for the seasoning without looking, the way she adjusted the flame instinctively. She always did this. It was second nature to her—taking care of things without making a show of it.

Cassandra, despite herself, felt the tightness in her chest ease.

Adrielle plated the food and slid a dish toward Cassandra. “Eat.”

Cassandra picked up her spoon, but before taking a bite, she glanced at Adrielle. “Are we actually going to talk about what happened, or are we just pretending this is fine now?”

Adrielle stilled slightly. Then, sighing, she pulled out the chair across from Cassandra and sat down, resting her chin on her palm. “You really don’t know why I was mad?”

Cassandra met her gaze evenly. “I do. I just… I didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time.”

Adrielle scoffed. “Of course, you didn’t.”

Cassandra set her spoon down. “You know why I keep things the way I do, Adrielle.”

“Yeah, I do know,” Adrielle shot back. “And most of the time, I accept it. But you can’t seriously expect me to be okay with you introducing me as your colleague like we’re just… what? Business partners? Associates? Like I don’t even matter beyond work?”

Cassandra’s jaw clenched. “It’s not that simple.”

Adrielle’s gaze didn’t waver. “It could be.”

Cassandra exhaled, looking down at her plate. “You know I don’t like bringing our personal lives into the company. It’s—”

“It’s not about the company,” Adrielle interrupted, voice quieter now. “It’s about us. I can handle keeping things professional, Cass. I can handle the secrecy, the carefulness. But don’t make me feel like I’m just another executive sitting at the same table as you.”

Cassandra swallowed.

Because that—that part hit.

Adrielle continued, voice softer now, but still firm. “I know how you are. You compartmentalize. You have walls. And I love you, but I also need to know that you’re with me in this, not just when we’re alone, but in the ways that actually matter.”

Cassandra looked at her for a long moment. Then, exhaling, she muttered, “I missed your cooking, Dri.”

Adrielle blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

Cassandra held her gaze, more serious now. “And I missed waking up to you making breakfast. And I missed hearing you hum while you work in the morning. I noticed that things weren’t right between us. And yeah… I should’ve said something sooner.”

Adrielle’s lips parted slightly.

Cassandra swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry, Moja.”

Adrielle studied her, as if trying to gauge her sincerity.

Then, after a beat, she sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Cassandra smirked slightly. “So, you forgive me?”

Adrielle rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Eat your damn food before I change my mind.”

Cassandra chuckled, finally taking a bite. And as Adrielle watched her, arms still crossed but expression noticeably softer, Liv’s words echoed faintly in the back of Adrielle's mind:

"You guys are so exhausting."

Yeah. Maybe.

But at least they were their kind of exhausting.

If Liv Tanaka had to summarize her job, it would be this: CFO, occasional therapist, and full-time witness to the ongoing telenovela that was Cassandra Sy and Adrielle Hidalgo’s secret marriage.

And today? Today was a good episode.

It started with Cassandra arriving early.

Not just on time early, but I’ve-been-here-long-enough-to-plot-my-redemption early. Liv was intrigued. Cassandra was not a morning person unless she had something to prove, which, in this case, she absolutely did.

Then came the coffee.

Not hers—Adrielle’s.

Liv was passing by the admin floor when she overheard a food attendant mumbling to themselves like they were defusing a bomb.

"The coffee should be strong but just enough sweetness to balance the bitterness, 2 teaspoons of brown sugar is enough and a little milk. Make sure to use Arabica beans from Kalinga."

Liv stopped mid step.

Oh-ho.

She turned and peeked over the counter. Sure enough, a carefully prepared cup was being placed on a tray, ready to be delivered to Adrielle’s office before she even arrived.

Liv had to physically bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.

So this was how Cassandra was making amends.

Peak Cass—silent, calculated, making up for her screw-ups with quality control.

Of course, Liv had to witness how this played out, so she casually made her way to Adrielle’s office. She leaned against the doorframe, phone in hand, pretending to scroll.

A few minutes later, Adrielle arrived, effortlessly commanding the room as always, except today, she was still carrying the weight of yesterday’s annoyance.

She set her things down, did a quick scan of her desk then, she saw it.

The coffee.

Liv did not miss the way Adrielle’s eyes lingered for half a second longer than necessary.

A brief pause.

Then, still acting like she was totally unaffected, Adrielle picked up the cup and took a sip.

Liv watched her.

There it was—the moment of realization. The subtle flicker of understanding. The barest shift in her expression that screamed: Oh, she actually listened.

But because Adrielle was Adrielle, she quickly masked it.

She cleared her throat, placed the cup back down, and turned to Liv with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

Liv smirked. "Nothing."

Adrielle didn’t look convinced. Liv just raised her brows, eyes flicking to the coffee, then back to Adrielle.

Adrielle rolled her eyes—but she took another sip.

One Point: Cassandra.

Liv had actual CFO duties to attend to like budgets to approve, reports to review, and maybe a tiny bit of corporate espionage in the form of eavesdropping on her best friends' ongoing marital cold war.

So when she heard Cassandra was meeting with a high profile visitor from one of their major stakeholders, Liv’s first thought was: Perfect. Time to see how much Cassandra has learned from yesterday’s disaster.

The meeting was being held in one of the sleek, glass-walled conference rooms, giving Liv an excellent excuse to casually pass by with her tablet in hand totally looking busy, not at all snooping.

Inside, Cassandra stood by the entrance, poised and professional as always, waiting for the guest. She was crisp in her dark gray suit, exuding that signature don’t-mess-with-me presence. Meanwhile, Adrielle, positioned slightly to the side, looked effortlessly composed but Liv knew her well enough to notice the subtle things. The way her arms were loosely crossed. The way she kept her expression carefully neutral.

Oh yeah, she was watching Cass.

Then came the moment of truth.

The doors opened, and in walked their guest, one of the board’s longtime partners, an executive from an international firm. Polished, confident, the type of person who dealt with titans in the industry on a daily basis.

Cassandra stepped forward, shaking hands with the visitor before smoothly launching into introductions. "And this," she said, her tone practiced and deliberate, "is Adrielle Hidalgo, our highly strategic and forward-thinking CEO."

The words were professional, polished and nothing overtly sentimental or personal but Liv, ever the observer, caught it.

The tiniest pause before Cassandra said Adrielle’s name. The slight shift in phrasing.

Highly strategic and forward-thinking.

Not just "our strategic CEO."

Not just "our CEO."

No, this was a step up—subtle, but thoughtful.

A deliberate acknowledgment that Adrielle was more than just another executive.

And Adrielle?

She didn’t say anything, didn’t react in any obvious way but Liv, from her not-so-covert position outside the room, noticed the shift in her posture.

Her shoulders relaxed just slightly. The tension that had been lingering for days? It wasn’t gone, but it had softened.

And Liv?

She smiled. Then nodded to herself.

It wasn’t grand, wasn’t dramatic.

But it was progress.

And knowing these two, progress was worth celebrating.

By the time the day wound down, Liv had seen enough evidence to conclude that progress had been made.

Sure, Cassandra and Adrielle were still annoyingly professional in public, but their private interactions? There was a shift. Subtle, but noticeable.

The tension from yesterday had lessened. It wasn’t completely gone. Adrielle still threw Cassandra the occasional side eye, but they weren’t dagger sharp anymore. Cassandra, for her part, still carried herself with that perfectly composed, unshaken CEO energy, but now? She actually looked at Adrielle when speaking to her, instead of directing everything to the room like Adrielle was just another name on a memo.

And the real proof?

It came in the form of one simple moment.

Liv had been reviewing reports at the lounge just outside Cassandra’s office when she caught something in her peripheral, Cassandra, standing near her desk, phone in hand.

At first, it looked like nothing. Just another CEO checking her phone in between meetings.

But then Cassandra hesitated.

Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second too long.

Then, Liv saw it, the faintest flicker of something almost… nervous? No, not nervous, but thoughtful.

And then, after a deep breath, Cassandra actually texted Adrielle first.

Liv’s eyebrows shot up so fast she almost gave herself a headache.

Now, that’s new.

Because if there was one constant in Cassandra Sy’s universe, it was that she rarely texted first. Especially not in situations where tension still lingered. But today? Today, she made the first move.

Liv didn’t need to read the message to know what it was about. It wasn’t business-related. No request for data, no follow up on reports.

It was a bridge.

An attempt at normalcy.

An effort.

And that was what made Liv grin.

Because if there was one thing she knew about these two, it was that Cassandra Sy didn’t do half measures, not in business, not in negotiations, and certainly not in her relationship.

She was trying.

And Adrielle?

Well, Liv would bet her next paycheck that Adrielle had already seen the message and was deliberately waiting a few minutes before responding. Just to be a little difficult.

But she would respond.

Oh yeah.

Things were definitely getting better.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faintest traces of vanilla from the candles Adrielle had lit in the kitchen. Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, painting everything in warm hues. It was a peaceful Saturday morning, the kind that usually came effortlessly for them.

But after the past few days? They were working on it.

Cassandra sat at the kitchen island, her fingers curled around a warm mug, silently watching as Adrielle moved around the stove. She wasn’t about to say it out loud (yet), but she’d missed this—missed her. The easy rhythm of Adrielle in the kitchen, the way she hummed under her breath as she cooked, the way their home felt like home when she was like this.

They weren’t entirely back to normal yet, but there was no more ice in the air, no more carefully controlled words or calculated distances. There was something softer now.

“Did you sleep well?” Adrielle asked, voice casual as she plated the pancakes.

Cassandra hesitated for a second before answering. “Better than the past few nights.”

Adrielle paused at that, turning to look at her. Not in a challenging way, not in the way she had earlier in the week when every look was sharp, but in a way that told Cassandra she had heard her.

“Me too,” Adrielle admitted quietly.

That was the closest either of them would get to saying I missed you—and for now, it was enough.

Cassandra exhaled, leaning back in her chair as Adrielle set their breakfast on the table.

Cassandra eyed it, smirking. “No extra crispy bacon?”

Adrielle huffed, sitting across from her. “I thought about frying bacons.”

“But?”

“But you didn’t deserve bacons this week.”

Cassandra chuckled, shaking her head as she cut into the pancakes. “Fair.”

She watched as Adrielle drizzled a little honey over her pancakes before sliding the bottle toward Cassandra without a word.

It was such a simple gesture.

But it meant everything.

Because Adrielle knew. Knew that Cassandra secretly liked honey instead of syrup, just like Cassandra knew Adrielle liked her coffee a little stronger in the mornings.

They sat down to eat, their usual weekend comfort settling back into place.

After a moment, Cassandra spoke. “So, are we okay?”

Adrielle took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “We’re getting there.”

Cassandra nodded. It was an honest answer. And if there was one thing they had always been, it was honest—even when it was difficult.

Adrielle nudged her foot under the table. Not a big gesture, just a small hey, I’m here.

Cassandra nudged back.

It wasn’t a grand reconciliation. No dramatic speeches, no over-the-top gestures. Just them, sharing breakfast, moving past the sharp edges of the past few days, knowing that at the end of it all—despite everything—they were always better together.