Chapter 382

In the CEO's office of Sampson Group, Luis sat in his leather chair, shoulders hunched over a sea of paperwork, eyes scanning line after line of text.

A knock sounded against the frosted glass door. He rubbed at his temples, easing the dull ache there, and looked up just as the door creaked open.

Verena peeked in, a bright smile on her lips and an insulated food container tucked carefully in her arms.Isaac trailed after her,balancing an elegant meal box as though it were something precious.

"Luis," Verena called, her voice carrying an eager warmth that instantly lifted the air.

At the sight of her, Luis set aside his pen and shifted past the scattered reports, his gaze catching on the container she held. "And what have you brought me this time? So mysterious."

Before Verena could answer, Isaac stepped forward,smoothly taking the container from her hands and setting it on the coffee table beside the meal box."Marisa made borscht for Verena," he explained."Verena said you've been working yourself ragged and skipping breakfasts. She thought you might need this."

Luis reached for the container, the quiet click of the lid snapping open ringing in the stillness. It hit him all at once-the aroma, the faint warmth curling into the air. A pang tightened in his chest.

Marisa hadn't cooked in ages-not since her illness had taken that part of her from him.

It had been years since he'd tasted the flavors she used to prepare with such care.

"In that case," he said, his voice gentling as his eyes glistened faintly, "thanks to Verena, I can enjoy Mom's cooking again."

Verena carefully drew out a porcelain bowl, delicate as a piece of art, and ladled in the steaming soup."Then try it now," she urged with a playful smile. "Mom even added her secret spice."

She passed the bowl into his waiting hands. Luis held it a moment longer than necessary, fingers tightening around the smooth ceramic, before he finally lowered his head and took a bite with a spoon.

The broth was hot, rolling down his throat with the gentle bite of pepper, the sweetness of tomato, and the hearty depth of beef.

"Over twenty years," he murmured, his voice husky, thumb tracing the rim of the bowl as though it grounded him. "It still tastes just as good."

His knuckles whitened against the porcelain, and Verena, noticing the strain, slipped down onto the sofa beside him. She placed a light hand on his, smiled,and gave it a reassuring pat. "Don't worry, Luis,"' she said gently. "There will always be more chances like this. Oh,by the way..."

She pivoted the conversation with practiced ease."Has Miranda reached out to you lately? Yesterday she wouldn't stop pestering me about the new jewelry line at Sampson Group-insisted she had to try on the bracelets."

Her phone was in her hand before Luis could answer.The glow of the screen lit her face, sharpening the impish curve of her mouth. "See? She was desperate enough to blow up my messages. I didn't even dare reply."

Luis lowered the bowl carefully, his lips parting as though to respond-but a sharp knock on the door cut through the moment.

"Sir, Rowland requests an audience," came the assistant's voice from outside, level and formal, every syllable crisp against the quiet office.

The interruption snapped the air taut. Luis' expression hardened, his eyes instinctively flicking toward the frosted glass door.

Verena, sensing the shift,tucked away her phone, her earlier playfulness vanishing like mist.

Isaac bent quickly to straighten the clutter on the coffee table, his movements discreet, almost ceremonial.

A beat later, Luis lifted his brows in the faintest acknowledgment, his face unreadable as he opened the file before him. "Send him in."

The door swung wide a breath later.Rowland stepped inside with a smile polished too brightly, his eyes betraying the jitter beneath it.

Left alone with Luis, he advanced to the desk, inclining his head in stiff deference. "Good morning,sir."

Luis met his greeting with a calm, unblinking stare.When he finally spoke, his voice was even, measured -controlled. "What brings you here, Rowland?"