145. The Calm Before the Collapse
SolarVex Headquarters — Executive Tower
Maximilian sat alone in his office, the skyline of the city spilling its light across the floor-to-ceiling windows. Documents lay open on his desk, untouched. His posture was rigid, but his eyes unfocused — drifting somewhere far beyond the neat lines of corporate reports.
For the first time in years, the CEO of SolarVex wasn't present in his own office.
The memory of earlier events clung to him like a shadow. Every now and then, his fingers curled slightly, as if reacting to a phantom sensation on his skin. He tried to shake it off, bury himself in work, but concentration refused to return.
The silence was heavy… until his phone buzzed quietly on the table.
He glanced at the screen.
Circe Vassilis.
He straightened, surprised.
When he answered, her voice came through — completely unlike the Circe most people knew.
"Maximilian," she greeted softly. Not sharp, not demanding. Calm. Almost warm.
"I hope I'm not bothering you."
He leaned back in his chair. "No. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she said, and the faint smile in her tone could be heard even over the distance. "I called to thank you. For the corrected file you sent me last week."
Maximilian's brows lifted slightly. He remembered — she had reached out from overseas, panicked about a miscalculation in a contract proposal. He had fixed it within an hour.
"You handled the rest well," he replied.
"Only because you helped."
Circe paused, collecting herself. "I know I wasn't very… present when Father invited you for breakfast. I should have welcomed you properly. I wasn't even in the country. And I never apologized for that."
"That wasn't necessary," he said.
"Maybe not," she answered gently, "but it was the right thing to do."
Her tone carried a new steadiness — mature, deliberate. Gone was the sharp arrogance she used to dismiss anyone she saw as beneath her. Gone was the dramatic possessiveness she used to wield around Maximilian. This version of Circe spoke with clarity, intention. Like someone who had shifted, grown.
"I've been away on business for months," she continued. "A lot has changed. Including… me."
A quiet breath.
"I just wanted you to know that."
Maximilian said nothing, but his silence wasn't cold — simply attentive.
Circe hesitated again before speaking.
"If you're free someday… I'd like to meet. Not for work. Just to thank you properly."
He lifted his gaze to the window, thoughtful.
The invitation wasn't flirtatious. Not clingy. Not manipulative.
It was sincere.
But as she spoke, another memory resurfaced — President David's marriage proposal, the alliance he had subtly suggested between his daughter and Maximilian. A strategic union. A beneficial consolidation.
Maximilian hadn't agreed.
He hadn't refused either.
And the awareness of that hung quietly between them.
Circe seemed to sense it. Her voice gentled further.
"I'm not asking for anything heavy," she clarified softly. "Only a conversation, when you have time. I owe you that much."
After a few seconds, Maximilian answered:
"I'll let you know when I'm free."
Circe exhaled — a small, relieved sound.
"Thank you. And… take care of yourself, Maximilian. You sound tired."
Before he could respond, she ended the call gracefully.
The office fell silent again, but it wasn't the same silence as before. Something had shifted — subtle, unexpected, and undeniably real.
For second time in years, Circe had spoken not as a spoiled heiress… but as a grown woman.
And Maximilian, still lost in thoughts that weren't entirely his own, sat motionless — caught between the past he had controlled perfectly, and a future pulling him in directions he never planned for.
He is curious about Circe as well .
"What are you plotting..."
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