I walked into the press conference prep room and immediately got smacked in the face by chaos barely held together with caffeine and sheer fucking determination.
The air reeked of industrial-strength coffee, fresh ink from panicked printing, and that particular brand of tension that comes with high-stakes events where careers live or die based on whether someone remembered to order enough vegetarian sandwiches.
My clipboard tucked under my arm, I dove into the chaos with something I hadn't felt in months — actual joy. This was what I was good at. This was where I belonged.
"Sarah," I called to one of the PR assistants, pointing at the seating chart spread across the main table. "Can we shift Evergreen Media to the third row, left side? They signed late, but they've got serious social media traction. Put them behind Avalon Productions, not next to them."
The assistant nodded, typing furiously. "Got it. Third row, left."
"Thanks." I moved to the refreshment station, double-checking logistics with the catering coordinator. "And Global Sound is confirmed for the livestream relay, right? We can't have technical issues with something this visible."
"Yes, all good," the staffer confirmed. "Setting up tomorrow morning, two hours before we go live."
Every detail mattered. Every backup plan needed a backup plan.
"Jasmine, the security briefing is confirmed for eight AM," another assistant called. "They want to walk through the VIP entrance protocols one more time."
"Perfect. Make sure they have the updated guest list with dietary restrictions flagged."
My focus was shattered by a familiar voice cutting through the chaos like nails on a chalkboard.
"Big day tomorrow, huh?"
I turned to find Adelyn standing nearby, lips painted a sharp, predatory red that somehow made her smile look like a threat. She clutched a coffee mug but wasn't drinking — just holding it like a prop.
Three weeks ago, I would have wilted under that gaze. Would have mumbled something apologetic and fled.
But I wasn't that woman anymore. And this was my event.
"Adelyn." I smiled — warm, bright, completely unbothered. "Welcome back. Perfect timing, actually. We're short-handed."
I didn't wait for her response. Just turned to grab a stack of folders from the table and pressed them into her hands before she could object.
"Media packets. They need to be sorted by outlet tier and placed at each seat in the press section. Color-coded tabs — gold for tier one, silver for tier two." I checked my clipboard. "Should take about an hour if you're efficient."
Adelyn stared at the folders like I'd handed her a dead fish. "I'm not sure that's really my—"
"Everyone's pitching in." My smile didn't waver. "I'm sure you understand."
The silence stretched. Around us, staffers were watching — pretending not to, but definitely watching. Adelyn's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Of course," she said finally, voice strained. "Happy to help."
"Wonderful." I turned back to my clipboard, already moving on. "Oh, and Adelyn? It was so quiet without you here. Almost peaceful. But I'm sure things will get... interesting again now that you're back."
She understood. I could see it in the flicker of her eyes, the way her fingers tightened on those folders.
"I'm sure they will," she said finally.
"Great. Let me know when those packets are done — I'll need to do a final check before we close up tonight."
I walked away first this time. Didn't look back.
By the time I finished final walkthroughs and confirmation calls, exhaustion had settled into my bones like cement. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me hollow and wrung out.
I made my way to the executive floor, the elevator ride giving me moments to collect myself. The executive level was quieter than the chaos I'd left behind, but the silence felt heavier.
Inside Liam's office, I placed the final timeline packet on his desk, fingers briefly resting on the smooth leather surface. Tomorrow's responsibility pressed down on my shoulders, but there was also a strange sense of accomplishment.
"Knock knock," I called softly, though the door was already open.
"Come in," Liam's voice replied.
I stepped inside, and something warm expanded in my chest at the sight of them. All three brothers, their presence filling the space with energy I'd grown to recognize and crave. Three weeks of learning each other, and I still got this flutter every time.
Liam raised an eyebrow at the packet on his desk. "You work faster than our entire PR team."
Despite my fatigue, I smiled. "They don't run on panic and caffeine. I do."
Asher glanced at the timeline. "Good work."
Two words. From him, that was a standing ovation.
"Thank you," I said quietly. Their approval still warmed me, but it was different now — not desperate validation, but the steady glow of being seen by people who actually knew me.
They'd watched me grow into myself these past three weeks. Had listened to my music, encouraged my ideas, treated me like a partner instead of an assistant. Tomorrow, I'd show everyone else what they already knew.
Without preamble, Asher approached and placed a sleek box on the counter — the kind that whispered expensive shoes without saying a word.
"These go with what Liam picked," he said simply, steel-gray eyes holding mine.
I looked at the box, then at Asher — gruff, silent Asher who'd sent Adelyn to London and bought me shoes to match a dress he'd never even seen.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Before I could say more, Finn stepped forward, producing a smaller velvet box from his jacket pocket like some kind of magician.
"And this," he added with a smile that was both mischievous and tender, "is from me."
Inside, nestled in silk, was a delicate gold earring dotted with tiny diamonds that caught the light and threw it back in brilliant sparks.
"Finn," I breathed. "It's gorgeous."
"Knew it." He looked unreasonably pleased with himself. "I've been staring at your ears for weeks, waiting for the right excuse to put something pretty in them."
"That's either romantic or creepy," I said.
"Why not both?"
I laughed — light and free.
The urge to kiss them hit me like a wave. But we were at work, and I'd made the rule myself — no intimacy in the office, nothing that could give anyone ammunition. The brothers had respected it for three weeks without complaint, even when it clearly cost them.
Still. Just this once.
I glanced at the door — closed — and the windows — blinds drawn for the evening. Then I moved quickly, pressing a soft kiss to Asher's cheek before he could react, turning to give Finn the same brief affection, and stepping back before anyone could linger.
Asher's jaw tightened, but I caught the subtle curve at his mouth corner. Finn's eyes sparkled with mischief he was clearly fighting to contain.
Liam caught my wrist before I could retreat fully — just for a second, just long enough to brush his lips against my knuckles. Quick. Discreet. But his eyes said everything his mouth couldn't in this building.
Liam, who followed my rules even when it killed him. Who found ways to say what he felt within the boundaries I'd set.
Three different men. Three different languages. And somehow, impossibly, I was learning to love in all of them.
I stepped back slowly, still clutching Finn's velvet box, the kiss lingering on my lips. The three of them watched me with expressions ranging from tender to possessive to completely adoring.
"Thank you," I whispered, meaning it for so much more than just the gifts.
"Thank us tomorrow," Asher said quietly, "after you've reminded everyone in that room exactly how brilliant you are."
As I gathered my things to leave, I could feel their eyes following my every movement, their support and desire wrapping around me like armor.
Tomorrow, I'd make them proud. Or die trying.