No one understood Caitlin better than Julian.

Even though they'd been married for less than a year, Caitlin's whole world revolved around him.

She wore heavy makeup-for him.

She dressed exclusively in gray-for him.

Since he preferred mild flavors, Caitlin never touched anything spicy or strongly seasoned.

He liked the scent of oranges, so her perfume was always citrus.

After the divorce, desperate to catch his attention, she wiped off her bold makeup

and tried for an innocent, fresh-faced look.

Then she joined Apex.

She'd gone in a wide circle, all for one purpose: to marry him again.

Because, without Julian, Caitlin simply couldn't go on.

Dalton never could figure out Julian's logic. Now, he forced himself to explain, "Julian, what you need to focus on right now isn't getting Caitlin back-it's surviving the crisis in front of you. Chandler Group staked everything on Event Horizon. Now that Event Horizon's dead and Imperial Ascent's become a dark horse, half our partners are pulling out."

Dalton had started to suspect that Chandler Group's former comebacks were all thanks to Caitlin, not Julian. Still, he held onto a sliver of hope for his boss.

If Julian had any real business talent, this setback shouldn't be the end of him.

Julian pressed his fingertips to his temples, looking utterly exhausted. "Enough. Call Caitlin. Tell her to get here. Now."

"Sorry, Julian." Dalton shook his head. "That's not something I can do. If you're so sure you can charm Caitlin into coming back, you'll have to find her yourself."

Julian stared, stunned. "What did you just say?"

Dalton had always been his lackey-never daring to contradict him, never talking back.

But now?

Dalton was actually standing up to him.

Unbelievable.

Dalton met Julian's eyes. "I said I'm sorry. I can't reach Caitlin."

He paused, as if making a weighty decision. "Julian, I used to look up to you. Wanted to be a finance world prodigy like you. But after working beside you, I realized things aren't how I thought. Maybe the real dark horse in finance isn't you at all."

Julian's face hardened. He jabbed a finger toward Dalton and shouted, "Dalton! You're questioning me? You-who couldn't even read a balance sheet a year ago what gives you the right?"

Dalton's words had hit Julian's pride square on. It felt like being pinned to the floor and ground into the carpet.

Seeing Julian's reaction, Dalton realized he was right. There was no point asking more.

He unclipped his staff badge and dropped it on the desk. "Julian, Caitlin isn't coming back to you. Time to stop dreaming. And it's time for me to leave Chandler Group."

"You're quitting?" Julian could hardly believe it.

"Yeah." Dalton nodded.

"You sure?" Julian pointed at him.

"I'm sure."

Julian let out a bitter laugh. "Fine! Go! But I'm warning you, Chandler Group isn't a revolving door. From now on, you'll never set foot in here again."

Dalton didn't bother with another word. He gave Julian one last look and walked out the door.

Julian watched him go, rage boiling over. He snatched a vase from the table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered with a deafening crash.

He'd regret it. Dalton would regret leaving.

Just wait.

Caitlin would be back soon, begging to remarry him.

Julian stormed into the foyer and barked at the butler, "Wilbur, find Caitlin's address for me!"

He'd go to her himself.

Sylvester Gardens.

Gordon sat at his desk, absorbed in the glowing screen of his laptop.

On it was Imperial Ascent-the game he'd been playing all night, still nowhere near bored.

Whoever had developed this game was a bona fide genius. She'd made a lasting mark on the industry.

But he couldn't help wondering: Was this Miss Kensington the same Miss Kensington he knew?

Gordon's sharp eyes narrowed with intrigue, a slow smile playing at his lips. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

"Meow!"

Snow darted onto his lap like a furry missile.

"Off, Snow. You stink," Gordon said, lifting the cat by the scruff, his expression full

of disdain as he set her on the floor.

Gordon was a neat freak. He only tolerated cuddling Snow for a brief window after her rare baths.

And she hadn't had one in over a month.

Gordon made his way to the bathroom to wash his hands when he paused, sniffing. Odd-his hands didn't smell bad at all. In fact, they carried a faint, familiar fragrance.

He froze.

That scent...

He hurried back to the study, crouched down, and beckoned to Snow, his voice suddenly gentle. "Come here, let Daddy hold you."

Snow: !!!

Had Dad been possessed by something?

Before she could react, Gordon scooped her up.

Yes. That was the scent.

Like winter blossoms after the snow, crisp and subtle.

To Snow's amazement, her usually aloof human not only held her but kept

nuzzling into her fur.

The poor cat blushed-if cats could blush.

Meow, meow, meow!

Who knew Dad loved her this much?

Apart from Dad, the only one who'd ever snuggled her like this was Catie.