The morning sun filtered through the elegant glass windows of the Langford penthouse. In the open kitchen, Jerry stood by the stove in a navy apron, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back in a low bun. The scent of sizzling butter and roasted coffee filled the air as she moved with calm, precise efficiency—frying eggs, slicing fruit, flipping pancakes.
Behind her, soft footsteps padded against the marble floor.
Mira stood silently in the doorway, wearing a stunning black fitted dress that hugged every curve. Her hair was loose, brushing against her back, and her eyes held a quiet storm. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Jerry's waist from behind, pressing her cheek against Jerry's back.
"I'm sorry…" Mira whispered softly, her voice coated in regret and vulnerability. "Please don't be mad at me, Jerry…"
But Jerry didn't say a word.
She gently peeled Mira's arms off and walked to the table, placing the plates down without a glance. Her eyes were distant, hidden behind a wall Mira wasn't used to. She set down a glass of juice, adjusted the
silverware, and without touching the food herself, walked past Mira in silence.
"Jerry—" Mira called, but Jerry was already grabbing her jacket and heading to the door.
They got into the car. Jerry was behind the wheel, her black shirt tight across her shoulders, sleeves rolled up, veins in her forearms flexing subtly as she gripped the wheel. Her black sunglasses hid her eyes, but Mira could feel the cold in her posture.
She hated it.
Hated how different Jerry felt now.
In the elevator, as they descended toward the office, Mira couldn't take it anymore. She stepped forward quickly, wrapping her arms around Jerry from the side and burying her face in Jerry's neck.
Jerry's breath hitched just slightly—but she didn't pull Mira away this time.
"I'm sorry…" Mira murmured again, voice cracking. "I didn't know… I never meant to hurt you."
She lifted her face and kissed Jerry's chin softly, tenderly.
Jerry looked down at her slowly, finally meeting her eyes—but still didn't say a word. The silence said everything, and it broke Mira's heart.
They reached the office floor.
The elevator doors opened, and Jerry strode out first, sleeves still rolled high, jaw tense. Her presence was strong—commanding as always—but colder now. She threw herself into her work, flipping through documents, signing deals, barely glancing at Mira as she worked beside her.
Later, during an important meeting with a new business partner, Mira watched from the side as Jerry leaned back confidently in her chair.
And then it happened.
A young, successful CEO seated across from them—an attractive woman in a designer suit—smiled sweetly and looked Jerry up and down.
"You're very impressive, Miss Kingston," she said flirtatiously. "How about dinner sometime? Just us."
Mira's heart stopped.
Jerry glanced at the woman, unreadable behind her dark glasses.
And then came the words.
"…Sure. Why not."
Mira blinked.
Her chest squeezed.
Jerry didn't even look her way.
The CEO smiled brightly, clearly pleased, while Mira sat frozen, her stomach dropping. For the first time… Mira felt what Jerry must've felt—rejected, unwanted, unseen.
But this time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to fight.
For her.
After the meeting, the office buzzed with people filing out—papers rustling, phones ringing. But Mira barely noticed any of it. Her eyes were glued to one thing.
Jerry.
And the woman shamelessly clinging to her.
The attractive CEO from the meeting had made her move the moment they stepped out. With a smirk too smug for Mira's liking, she walked up to Jerry, brushed imaginary dust off Jerry's shoulder, and then—without hesitation—slipped her manicured fingers around Jerry's strong arm.
"Well…" she purred, "shall we?"
Her tone dripped with flirtation as she leaned in, pressing her body just a little too close.
Mira's heart punched her ribs.
Jerry, silent as ever, didn't pull away. She simply glanced down at the woman with her usual unreadable expression and… nodded. Her fingers casually rested on the woman's wrist, like it was nothing.
The woman grinned like a fox about to devour its prey.
It burned Mira.
It scorched her.
Mira could feel her blood boiling—her throat tightening, her nails digging into her palm. She had never felt this before. This sharp, stabbing need to rip someone away from Jerry. Not because she was jealous… but because she was hers.
The woman giggled, eyes flicking toward Mira mockingly, like she already knew she'd won. "Your assistant looks like she wants to kill me," she whispered playfully to Jerry.
Jerry didn't answer.
Mira took one step forward—heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
Another step.
Her jaw clenched.
She didn't say a word.
Instead, she marched up behind Jerry, slid her hand between Jerry's arm and the other woman's, and yanked it away—not gently. The woman stumbled slightly in shock.
Jerry blinked, startled for the first time.
Mira didn't care.
She wrapped her arm around Jerry's waist possessively and leaned up to Jerry's ear, voice low and firm, "You said you don't touch what's not yours… well, Jerry Kingston—you're mine."
The other woman's jaw dropped.
Jerry's lips parted slightly, stunned. A beat passed.
Then slowly—so slowly—Jerry turned her head and looked at Mira.
And smirked.
"Is that so, Miss Langford?" she murmured, her voice a deep tease.
Mira didn't answer. She grabbed Jerry's collar, pulled her down, and kissed her cheek so hard it left a mark.
The CEO woman gasped. "You—what the hell?"
"Find someone else to flirt with," Mira said without looking at her, tightening her grip around Jerry's waist. "This one already has someone keeping her warm at night."
Jerry bit her bottom lip, clearly holding back a grin.
"Guess the date's canceled," she said over her shoulder.
The woman huffed, scoffing in disbelief, and stormed away in her heels.
When she was gone, Mira finally exhaled and looked up at Jerry