CHAPTER 199: FOR YEARS

The grand venue of Cullen’s thirtieth anniversary was already alive with movement when Aveline arrived. Her entire team surrounded her, filled with excitement and energy. It was their first big event, and their enthusiasm fed into her steady confidence.

From a distance, Alaric’s eyes trailed after her. For the past two weeks, she hadn’t once imagined Damien around her. And Damien was already behind the bar.

But Aveline hadn’t told him what weighed on her heart either. At times, it made him wonder if she didn’t trust him enough. But deep down, he knew, Aveline trusted him with her whole life.

Which only left him thinking... what could be so difficult for her that she couldn’t bring herself to share?

His lips curved faintly when she turned to wave at him one last time before disappearing into the venue.

Settling back in his seat, he instructed Ezra in his cool, firm tone once the car rolled forward, "Set two guards at the venue. Protect her, while helping her if she needs it."

....

Inside, Aveline wasted no time. She divided the teams according to the events and their complexities, her voice brisk but clear as she instructed the staff about their tasks, schedules, and deadlines.

The work had only just begun when Nolan rushed to her side, phone in hand, face tight with urgency.

"There’s a problem," he said, his voice clipped. "The vendor trucks are stuck. Protests broke out across multiple parts of the city. They can’t move, and there’s no rerouting possible."

Everything and everyone stilled at once. Without the trucks, without the goods, their preparations couldn’t even begin.

Aveline’s brows knit together as she quickly sought details from the internet and news channels. The protests, it seemed, were about immigrants taking up jobs and causing unemployment for locals.

She frowned. ’When did that become Velmora’s problem?’

It was a problem of the capital and the IT hubs, but Velmora was a city of fashion, culinary, and logistics. Thus, the protest here baffled her. Yet bafflement didn’t change reality. They could only wait.

The hours dragged. The sun rose high, then began dipping low, and still the trucks hadn’t moved.

At least the food deliveries arrived on time. Aveline arranged rest areas for her staff, keeping her ears open for any news of the protests easing.

...

By evening, the skies turned gray, a snowstorm picking up outside, gnawing at the morale of the staff. Anxious workers sent their chief forward, asking for reassurance.

"Ms. Laurent," he said carefully, "this isn’t our fault. We just... we don’t want our payments cut because we’ve had to wait instead of working."

Aveline’s heart softened hearing their worry. She calmed their worries immediately, assuring them they would be paid fairly. "I understand your concern. None of this delay is your fault, and we would never let you suffer for circumstances beyond your control. Your payments will not be cut, each of you will be compensated fairly for your time."

But her own worry deepened, how would they finish the setup in just two days and three nights?

Her voice rang firm when she continued, "We’ll hire more workers if needed. Whoever is willing to stay till midnight, We’ll double their pay. We’ll arrange meals, rest areas, and even overnight accommodation if necessary. What I need most right now is your strength and commitment."

The staff exchanged glances. One by one, most of the men agreed without hesitation. She promptly called for the HR manager to draw up a proper schedule to balance work and rest, keep everyone functional but not burnt out.

The headlights of the trucks cut through the snow as they finally rumbled into the venue. Relief rippled through the workers, but it lasted only seconds.

The drivers and owners stepped out, faces hardened, voices sharp when they stood in front of Aveline and Nolan.

One of the truck owners crossed his arms. "We lost an entire day’s business because of this mess. If you want these goods unloaded, you’ll need to pay us extra."

Another driver chimed in, his tone edged with frustration.

"We waited for hours in traffic. Our losses are on you now. Either we’re compensated, or we turn around."

For a moment, Aveline’s jaw tightened. ’How is that my fault?’ But she caught the challenge in their expressions. If she refused, they would simply drive away.

With calm poise, she smiled. "Fine. You’ll be compensated fairly."

Nolan furrowed, hearing her. But he didn’t interrupt.

"The finance manager isn’t here. Please collect the balance from Bloom and Grace’s finance office." It was a lie, but it bought her cooperation.

The unloading began, fast and efficient, with rotating teams working while others rested.

It was ten at night when Alaric stormed into the venue. His patience had frayed at her endless messages of I’ll be late. Have dinner. Rest well..

He found her amidst the chaos, his voice low and scolding. "Why are you wearing so little?"

Aveline: "..."

Before she could even respond, he was wrapping his scarf around her neck and tugging her aside into a quieter corner. He had carried a bag in one hand, set it down, and helped her sit.

From inside, he drew out a large hot box with steaming chicken noodle soup.

He only relaxed when she finally set her second bowl down, warmth returning to her cheeks.

He knew about the delays at work. So he asked calmly. "Can you manage? Do you need staff?" He can put his entire Apex security team at her service.

Aveline smiled faintly despite her weariness. "I’ll manage. And if I can’t, I’ll ask you, Mr. Coolhead."

"Good." He stood, voice firm. "Then let’s go."

She laughed, knowing him too well. If he came to take her home, he wouldn’t have brought her soup. "Go home, Alaric. Sleep. I’ll be there at one sharp."

He wanted to argue, but she insisted, sending him away. Only he didn’t truly leave. He stayed outside, in his car, waiting for her.

When she finally exited the venue at one in the morning, ready to call a cab, her eyes caught the familiar Rolls-Royce waiting in the snow. She slipped inside without a word, grateful for both the warmth of the car and the man.

....

But before dawn, she was gone again, leaving behind only a note stuck to the window. [Good Morning, Beautiful... Lots of work, GTG. Don’t miss me.]

Alaric read it, lips tugging wryly. He missed her more for writing it.

Another day and night slipped past with only stolen video calls and short conversations. He held her to sleep when he could, only to wake with her vanished.

He realized, after barely a month of living together, that his time and home felt hollow without her. So he buried himself in work, then drove straight to her venue at eleven at night.

The space had transformed into a futuristic wonder. Every corner was immaculate and meaningful. The media was already raving, swooning over glimpses from outside. But inside, tension clung like smoke.

"What’s wrong?" he asked as he made his way to Aveline.

Nolan’s face was grim. "The safety inspector delayed us half a day, and now he cancelled on us."

"The event starts tomorrow," Aveline said, her voice steady but her eyes uncertain. "I wanted their approval early in case something needed fixing. If they come at the last minute... what then?"

Alaric’s brow lifted. He couldn’t help but wonder if the troubles were a mere coincidence. "Is a cop’s safety inspection really necessary?"

Nolan glanced at Aveline and lowered his voice. "Not strictly, if we double-check everything ourselves."

But Aveline shook her head, not agreeing with Nolan’s idea, "With so many people attending, I won’t risk it." An official stamp matters. In emergencies, it carries more weight than self-checks.

Alaric noticed the conviction in her voice. This was more than perfectionism, it was discipline.

"Then how about this?" he suggested smoothly. "Do a thorough self-check tonight. That way, when the inspector does show up, there’s nothing to fault."

Her eyes softened. "Alright." She turned to her staff, "Make two teams. Every check should be digitized. And tomorrow, another round after final décor."

The work resumed quickly. Even after midnight, when others finally left, Aveline remained, logbook in hand, inspecting every detail herself. Alaric trailed her quietly, lending his hands, lending his presence.

By the time they slipped into the car together, fatigue clung to her like perfume. His voice broke the silence. "Sunshine.... you never worked in event management. How do you know so much?"

Aveline’s lips curved faintly, hearing him. "I learned while working on the Grace and Bloom project report. Damien kept rejecting it, demanding corrections. To counter him, I researched endlessly. I learned far more than I ever thought I would. Maybe more than what hands-on experience could teach me."

His eyes narrowed. "That was during your marriage? In just two months?"

"Two months?" Aveline muttered absentmindedly. "For years..." Her words slipped out before realization widened her eyes.

"Years!?" he breathed, confusion coating his voice.