Chapter 37

Chapter 37 – When Giants Walk In

Friday mornings at Vierra Holdings usually ran on energy drinks and deadlines—but today? The air itself seemed to tighten with pressure.

Word had spread like wildfire before 9 a.m.: Mr. Vierra Clinton, the founder and supreme patriarch of the Vierra empire, was in the building.

The man was a living legend—or a living storm, depending on who was asked.

Staff scrambled to fix collars, adjust blouses, and double-check files they already perfected. The scent of fear mixed with expensive perfume floated across the floor like incense at a ritual.

Kirah Evans kept her expression neutral as she organized her desk for the fifth time that morning. She had only heard rumors of the chairman—a man known to break men's egos and tear down anyone who stood in the way of power. And now he was here. In this very building.

She wasn't scared. But she was alert. More alert than ever.

"God pls," she murmured under her breath. "Let me not mess this up."

She'd come to work dressed immaculately, her navy blazer snug on her body, her pencil skirt hugging her just enough, and her hair slicked into a neat bun. Not too sexy. Not too boring. Just professional perfection.

After all, her man's father was watching.

---

Dominic Vierra, however, was far from excited.

His father had only stepped into the Vierra Holdings headquarters once in the past three years. Now here he was, strutting in like he still owned the empire, barking greetings, and shaking hands with directors as though his presence was a blessing.

Dominic barely acknowledged him at the entrance.

They exchanged cold stares—his father's eyes gleaming with smug superiority, Dominic's filled with veiled loathing.

"Set up a board meeting," Dominic said to his assistant, his voice clipped.

"Yes, sir."

Kirah watched the entire exchange from her glass-walled office. Dominic didn't even mask the tension. She had never seen him so stiff—not even during the most intense executive pitches.

Was this…fear? Or hatred?

---

The boardroom was dead silent when Clinton Vierra entered. He spoke, they listened. He criticized, they nodded. He laughed, they forced it.

Dominic sat back, arms folded, jaw tight. He let his father talk, but his mind was racing.

Why now?

Everything was going well. Reports were clean. No irregularities. Profits were up. Clients satisfied. So what was this sudden show of presence?

Maybe he just came to stir the waters. That was his specialty, after all.

---

Meanwhile, outside the war room of business egos, Mrs. Vierra had arrived with a contrasting energy: warmth, perfumes, and shopping bags.

She walked the halls like a visiting queen, greeting staff with mild smiles and practiced elegance. She was the softer face of the Vierra name.

When she got to Kirah's office, she didn't wait to be announced. She walked in with confidence and a bright, disarming smile.

Kirah stood quickly, stunned. "Ma—good day, ma'am"

"No need to look so frightened," Mrs. Vierra chuckled. "You're even more beautiful up close."

Kirah swallowed. "Thank you."

"I brought you something."

She handed Kirah a luxury gift bag from a high-end brand. Inside was a subtle gold wristwatch—classy, elegant, and clearly expensive.

Kirah blinked, overwhelmed. "This is too much, ma…"

"Nonsense. You're doing well with Dominic. I can see it in his face. He's different. Calmer. Softer. Keep it up."

Kirah tried to keep her composure, but her throat tightened. "I'm just doing my job, ma."

Mrs. Vierra smiled knowingly. "Sure, you are."

And then she left, like a breeze of perfume and silent power.

---

The board meeting finally ended after two hours of subtle jabs and masked insults. Clinton didn't outright disrespect Dominic, but his every sentence dripped with patronizing doubt.

"You're doing alright," he finally said as he stood. "Just don't let it get to your head. You haven't won yet."

Dominic didn't even flinch. "We'll see who wins in the end."

They walked out of the room without so much as a handshake.

Dominic didn't return to his office immediately. He needed air. Needed space. He walked outside briefly, fists clenched, heart pounding with frustration.

His father always had that effect on him—like a poison that lingered long after the bottle was gone.

When he came back to the office later in the day, he went straight to Kirah.

She stood when he walked in, clearly startled.

"Relax," he said, his voice low.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer with words. He just walked closer, eyes dark but calm.

"My mom likes you," he said.

"She brought me a gift," Kirah admitted.

He smirked. "She's strategic. If she didn't approve, she wouldn't even look at you."

Kirah nodded slowly.

"I didn't talk to my father," Dominic added. "And I won't."

Kirah touched his hand gently, offering silent support.

Dominic held onto her for a second longer than necessary. It was a long day, but her presence anchored him.

---

By the end of the day, the buzz about Clinton Vierra's visit had died down, but everyone still moved with caution.

Dominic drove Kirah home, not caring if anyone saw them leave together. It was time the world started adjusting.

As they drove past the tall buildings and glittering skyline, he turned to her.

"I want you in my life, Kirah. Not just in my bed or in my office. Everywhere."

She smiled faintly, eyes shining. "Then you better not mess it up."

"I won't," he said. "Not for anything."