Damian’s fingers flew across his laptop, jaw tight, eyes burning from staring at spreadsheets too long.

The door opened.

He didn’t look up.

“Knock.”

Silence.

Then the unmistakable sound of a plastic bag rustling.

Damian looked up.

Aria stood there, calm, unbothered, takeaway in hand.

He exhaled slowly. “Can’t you knock?”

She raised a brow. “Really? Do I need permission to enter my husband’s office?”

She walked in and dropped the takeaway on his desk with a soft thud.

“This is a company,” Damian said. “With departments. Offices. Structure. You should practice office ethics.”

Aria hummed absentmindedly while peeking into the bag.

“Mhm… mmm… noted.”

“What do you want?” he...