Still His Wife. Never Again His Fool

Chapter Nine

Soren’s POV

He stared at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted two heads. Then he burst out laughing, clutching his knees, throwing his head back, glancing at me between fits of laughter.

“Is something funny, Felix?” I ground out.

He straightened, cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie. “Nothing, Sir.” He shook his head.

“Then answer the damn question.”

Felix raised a hand, thumb and forefinger pinched together. “Can I ask you one, Sir?" Just one? Are you suddenly into K-dramas? I just want to let you know that no matter how good and realistic they look, they’re never true.”

His grin faltered when he caught my expression. The laughter drained from his eyes, replaced by a stern gaze. “Sorry, Sir. What’s your plan?”

“What plan?” My forehead tightened.

“Getting the board members on our side.” He waved a hand.

He beckoned me. I arched a brow but didn’t move, so he stepped in, glancing around before whispering in my ear. “That’s not a problem, because I’ve got a plan. We secure the deal with Phlerium Industries, the one the company’s been chasing for years. Once we get Monsieur Pierre on our side, the board will have no choice but to recognize your competency. They’ll fall in line. And don’t worry about the details. I know an easier way.”

Déjà vu hit me again. It was like watching a scene I’d seen before only now, I was inside it.

And just as before, I said the same words. “Felix, I’m not interested in shortcuts. I have a plan.”

“I know that, Sir. But this is a sure way.” His words fell flat; I already knew them before he spoke.

Have I…developed something? Prescience? Intuition?

I shifted my gaze back to Felix. “Are you doubting my capability?” My eyes locked on the shrinking space between us.

“Of course not, sir.” He flinched and stepped back.

Before I could press further, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Felix straightened at once and bowed. “Good day, sir,” he said to Mr. Smith, who had just entered.

Mr. Smith nodded at Felix and smiled at me. I forced myself to return the gesture.

“What you did today was incredible. You threw the board members off their game. I am proud of you.” That feeling again.

“There’s no reason to be proud of me yet. Wait until I get them on my side completely.”

He only smiled wider and tapped my shoulder. “It’s okay to celebrate little wins every now and then, Soren. Speaking of celebrations, how about lunch today?”

“Okay. What restaurant?”

Gasps rippled through the hallway. I turned to find everyone staring at me as if I’d just announced a scandal.

“Wouldn’t you rather spend your lunch break figuring out your next move?” Felix chirped.

“The board members can wait.”

“Are you sure? We can always have dinner at home whenever you decide to drop by to visit your old man,” Mr. Smith said, concern etched on his face.

“I’m sure. Let’s go to lunch.” I smiled faintly and took his hand. “Felix, you can take your lunch break. We’ll continue when I get back.”

“W-what? Me? I love working.” He pointed at himself, eyes darting between me and Mr. Smith.

I nodded. “But since you love working, there’s…”

“I’ll go on my break. I wouldn’t dare disobey my employer.” He bowed quickly and all but ran off, as if afraid I might change my mind.

We headed to the restaurant Mr. Smith had always praised. I never understood why. From outside it already looked noisy and overcrowded, the windows revealing cheap décor and too many bodies pressed together.

“I’m glad I finally got you to visit this place. Isn’t it amazing?” he asked, smiling.

The moment we stepped inside a wall of sound crashed over me, cutlery clinking, voices overlapping, chairs scraping tile. The air was heavy with the greasy tang of fried food, a far cry from the clean, crisp scents I was used to. Tables were jammed shoulder to shoulder, cheap wood polished to hide scars. A man brushed my arm as he squeezed past. I stiffened.

We sat across from each other, my back straight, his shoulders relaxed. I resisted the urge to wipe the table clean before resting my hands on it. My gaze swept over the mismatched decorations, the faded tablecloths. This was what he’d hyped?

I forced a thin smile. “There’s nothing amazing about this place.”

“Be patient, will you?”

“Are you sure this place is approved by your doctor?” I asked, tugging at my collar. There was no air conditioning which was hardly surprising, but they could at least afford a fan. It’s not as if a few bucks would get them out of business.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to always be prim and proper.”

Silence stretched. I tapped the table once, twice. He studied me with that look. Half amused, half disappointed.

“So…how was your day?” I asked finally. The words came out stiff, almost foreign on my tongue.

His brows lifted. “My day?”

“Yes. Any difficulties?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Let’s cut the chase. Why did you agree to lunch with me today? If it has to do with impressing the board, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“Not at all,” I said quickly. “Not everything is about business.”

He stared. “That’s my line. Everything’s business to you.”

I exhaled through my nose. “I just wanted to eat with you today. Enough about me…how was your last blood test? Any problems?”

“No. Just the usual nutrient jargon and blah blah blah.” His casual tone jarred me. In the memory…if it was a memory, dream, or nightmare, yesterday was when he got the results of the disease that ended his life. I had been too busy with the company in the nightmare or whatever to notice his unhealthy self.

Is he lying? Or was it just a dream?

“Are you sure there’s nothing?”

He leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. “I think the concussion was bad enough it’s messing with you. You should go back to the doctor.”

I nodded, though unease twisted in my gut. That still didn’t explain why I already knew the board’s questions. Or why Felix’s words had felt scripted.

“I’ve yet to see why you enjoy coming here.”

“That’s because you haven’t tasted their food yet.” He laughed.

“Speaking of food, when do they take orders?”

“Oh, they don’t. You go to the counter and order.”

“You’re serious?” I asked. He nodded.

He rattled off his order, and I got up, weaving through the press of bodies toward the counter. The noise pressed in on me. Too many voices, too much heat. I bumped into someone and their documents scattered to the floor.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy.”

That voice. Recognition jolted through me.

I bent at the same time she did. Our fingers collided over the scattered papers. Heat flared where we touched, sending a tingling current up my arm. She pulled away abruptly, but not before I caught sight of the cross tattoo on her wrist.

I lifted my gaze. Maya Moore. For a heartbeat her gaze lingered and a storm of emotions flashed through her face. Shock , surprise, fear, pain.

“I’m Maya Moore.” She extended her hand cautiously, like someone testing dangerous waters.

“I know.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Her brow furrowed. “That’s impossible. How does the great boss of the tech world know me? We’ve never met.”

I hesitated.

“Uh..” there was no way i could tell her that i have been stalking her all my life or that she was in my dream, nightmare or memory and i watched her go through the worst kind of pain before she died horribly so i went with the less concerning explanation.