Ethan Sullivan's voice remained eerily calm.
"Breeze Perfumes was never meant to follow conventional paths."
His words were crisp and deliberate.
This statement served both as a response to the room and as unwavering support for Sophia Sullivan.
The company had always been synonymous with bold innovation.
Ethan knew Sophia's capabilities better than anyone.
With her talent, any corporation would fight to have her.
She was the Crimson Serpent.
A once-in-a-generation prodigy in perfumery.
While others exchanged startled glances, Ethan had already made his decision.
"Ian, you'll oversee this project."
"Understood, Mr. Sullivan!"
Ian Watson exhaled quietly in relief.
Now he understood why the CEO had personally attended.
It was clearly for Miss Sullivan.
Yet something puzzled him—lately, an invisible barrier seemed to have formed between Sophia and Ethan.
They no longer shared their previous closeness.
Instead, there was a subtle but unmistakable distance.
Perhaps Olivia Laurent's arrival had caused it.
The meeting concluded swiftly.
Attendees filed out one by one.
Sophia rose, her gaze clear.
"That proposal was indeed risky. Without your backing, the board would've never approved it."
"This wasn't personal. I simply recognize your abilities."
Ethan lowered his eyes, masking his emotions, but his knuckles tightened unconsciously.
His self-control was crumbling.
Had anyone glimpsed his thoughts, they'd have seen a man consumed by hunger.
He wanted to close the distance between them.
To breathe in her scent.
To claim her lips.
These days of forced distance hadn't cooled his longing—it had only intensified it.
Her fragrance affected him like a hound tracking prey.
"Thank you for your trust."
Unaware of his inner turmoil, Sophia simply felt warmth.
To Ethan, these might be ordinary words.
But to her, they were rare validation.
Years of skepticism had worn her down.
Especially during her time with the Winstons—no matter what she did, Liam Winston never acknowledged her.
Only sarcasm and disdain.
Over time, she'd begun doubting herself.
Yet Ethan always told her:
—"I believe in you."
—"You deserve the best."
—"Because you have what it takes."
Were it not for their differing statuses, perhaps they could've been more.
Sophia met his eyes.
"This perfume carries my heart. It might truly work miracles."
They stood across the long conference table.
The space between them felt deliberate.
"If there's nothing else, I'll get back to work."
Her tone was polite yet distant.
Ethan said nothing.
As the door clicked shut, silence reclaimed the room.
Beneath his composed exterior, a storm raged.
With Sophia gone, his suppressed emotions grew sharper.
Perhaps she truly didn't care.
But he would never let go.
Ethan knew his own nature too well.
He was no saint—his hands were stained.
What he wanted, he took without mercy.
Julian Roscente once called him a madman who destroyed what he couldn't possess.
Yet with Sophia, every rule dissolved.
—Against her, he had no defenses.
He forced himself to remain restrained.
But the thread of his rationality was stretched to its limit.
No one could predict when it would snap.