10 years later

Severa's POV

10 Years Later…

"What happened to the bare minimum?"

I lifted my gaze from my laptop screen, my fingers pausing on the keyboard as I looked up at my best friend slash workmate standing in front of my desk. Diane. Sweet but nosy. Supportive but annoying. Right now? She was just plain annoying.

"The bare minimum doesn't exist when you have a cousin breathing down your neck about a project proposal," I muttered, rubbing my temples. The soft glow of my desk lamp barely made a dent in my exhaustion. "If I don't finish this on time, she's going to make sure I regret it."

Diane folded her arms, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Right. And after this? You'll totally stop overworking yourself, right?"

I sighed, already tired of this conversation. "Of course. No extra miles, no staying late, no exceeding expectations. Just clock in, do the job, clock out."

She snorted. "You say that every single time, Sev. And yet, here we are."

I glanced at the stack of papers on my desk—the project proposal I had been forced to write after casually throwing around ideas during a weekend dinner with my family. My cousin, the CEO of Emperium Construction, had latched onto the idea and now, here I was, stuck polishing a full-fledged proposal to present to the board.

"Then I'll head down first," Diane finally said with an exaggerated sigh, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Don't stay too late."

I waved her off without looking up. "Yeah, yeah."

She left, and I returned my focus to the document, my fingers resuming their steady typing rhythm.

By the time I finished, it was already midnight.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling deeply before closing my laptop. My eyes burned from staring at the screen for too long, and my body ached from sitting in the same position for hours.

I should've gone home earlier.

Dragging myself out of the office, I made my way to the parking lot, the sound of my heels clicking against the tiled floor echoing in the empty hallway. The office building was practically deserted at this hour, save for a few night shift employees and security guards.

Outside, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. I reached my car and leaned against the door for a moment, closing my eyes. Ten years. It had been a whole decade since that summer in Esperanza. Since him.

I shook my head, pushing the memory away.

Not tonight, Severa.

I unlocked the car and slid into the driver's seat. The streets were quiet as I drove home, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windshield. My condo wasn't far, but exhaustion made every minute feel longer.

Just as I was about to turn into the underground parking lot, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. I glanced at the screen—my cousin, Celine.

I groaned but answered. "What now?"

"Wow, what a way to greet your beloved cousin." Celine's amused voice came through the speaker. "Are you still at the office?"

"Just got out. What's up?"

"Great. I need you to meet with someone tomorrow. We're bringing in an external consultant to review the proposal before the presentation. He just came back from working overseas, so I want him on board."

I frowned. "Can't someone else—"

"Not negotiable, Sev," she cut me off. "I already set up a meeting for 9 AM. Just show up, okay? You'll be working closely with him moving forward."

I sighed. "Fine."

"Good. Try not to hate him immediately."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, suspicious.

But Celine had already hung up.

I rolled my eyes, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat. Whatever. I'd just deal with it tomorrow.

THE NEXT MORNING.....

I arrived at the office earlier than usual, my coffee in one hand and my tablet in the other. The conference room was already set up, and I took a seat at the head of the table, scrolling through the proposal one last time.

The door swung open.

"Ah, you're here early." Celine entered first, smiling like she had just won the lottery. "Perfect. He's on his way up."

"Who exactly is he?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

"You'll see," she said vaguely, her eyes twinkling with something that made me uneasy.

I didn't have time to press for answers because, a second later, the door opened again.

And my world tilted.

Standing there, dressed in a sharp black suit, was Eugene Dominguez.

The air in the room grew thick. My grip on the coffee cup tightened, my pulse roaring in my ears.

No. This had to be a joke.

His dark eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, something flickered across his face—surprise? Recognition? Guilt?

But then, just like ten years ago, his expression turned unreadable. Cold. Detached.

Celine's voice barely registered. "Severa, meet Eugene Dominguez—our new consultant and supplier."

The coffee in my hand suddenly tasted bitter.