I Can Hear Everyone’s Thoughts Except My Husband

Chapter 4 – The Corporate Battlefield

The glass doors of Draven Group’s headquarters reflected the city skyline, polished and sharp, like a promise of power. Every step I took in the lobby felt heavier than the last, as though the building itself was testing my resolve.

Lyra stepped ahead, her heels clicking confidently on the marble floor. Her thoughts were chaotic even through her calm exterior:

This is my chance. Mother will notice me. Cassian will notice me.

I let her rush. Calm and deliberate, I walked at my own pace, eyes scanning the lobby, every movement calculated. This isn’t a competition for attention. It’s a battle of wits, and I intend to win.

Cassian followed behind, his presence quiet but imposing. I could feel it — a subtle gravity in the air that made everyone else’s chatter fade into whispers. I tried to hear him. Nothing. Not a thought. Not a flicker. Only the cold, measured aura that he carried so effortlessly.

The elevator ride to the top floor was silent, almost suffocating. Lyra’s impatience radiated like heat from a flame. I could hear it in the micro-expressions she didn’t realize she was making: She always knows everything. I can’t let her outshine me.

The meeting room was prepared immaculately. High-value clients from overseas waited, their gazes sharp, their expectations high. Lyra straightened her blazer nervously, and I caught the slight tremor in her thoughts.

She prepared all this? When?

I stepped forward once the presentation began. Let her interrupt. Let her speak first. She craved attention, and I intended to let it exhaust her.

“Excuse me,” she said quickly, “I believe the projections…”

I remained silent. Let the room settle. Let the client feel heard. Then I spoke, calmly sliding a detailed report across the table.

“I anticipated your concerns,” I said, my voice soft but precise. “Here’s the adjusted model for the next three quarters, including risk buffer projections.”

The client leaned in. Eyes narrowed. Interest sparked.

Lyra’s thoughts were jagged now: How did she know? How is she so prepared?

By the end of the meeting, the contract was secured. Eighty million. A success.

Cassian’s gaze lingered on me — brief, controlled. Approval? Curiosity? I couldn’t tell. And that tiny uncertainty made my pulse quicken.

Afterward, as we returned to the car, Lyra fumed silently beside me.

“You always make it look so effortless,” she whispered, trying to hide the anger in her voice.

“I simply answered the question,” I said lightly, letting a small, controlled smile form. Effortless isn’t what matters. Strategy is.

Cassian’s hand brushed the door handle. Just slightly. Enough for me to notice. Enough to make me remember: he sees more than he shows.

Back at the mansion, my thoughts wandered to the ten-million plan. Every percentage, every share, every move in the company was calculated. Lyra’s jealousy would be her own undoing.

And Cassian? I didn’t hear him think. Not yet. But I knew, somehow, that he already understood more than I suspected.

This life wasn’t about surviving a wedding. It wasn’t about avoiding Lyra’s schemes. This life was a battlefield. And I intended to claim victory — quietly, strategically, and entirely on my own terms.