"Unbreakable Bride: Season 1 - A Strong Woman for a CEO Daddy"

Playing With Fire

Two days later...

Tristian's expressionless face seemed chiseled from stone as he surveyed the ten individuals seated around the table. Luke, on the other hand, was a picture of distress, his forehead slick with cold sweat as he wiped it away with trembling fingers. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, and even the most stoic among them couldn't help but shudder in dread.

Tristian's voice cut through the silence like a whip. "I gave you all a whole fucking month to bring answers, not stupid questions. If I needed questions, would I have spent a whole month asking? Do I appear stupid to the ten of you?"

Luke's whispered plea, "Lord help us," was a stark contrast to Tristian's controlled fury. He pitied his colleagues, fearing they might face severe consequences if they failed to meet Tristian's expectations.

The company's recent struggles weighed heavily on their minds. Plummeting stocks, threatened contracts, and a staggering two-million-dollar loss in just two days had created a sense of urgency. While the Zwicks' wealth was vast, Tristian's tolerance for failure was nonexistent.

"Tell me what you were doing the past month when I told you about the mole," Tristian's voice was deceptively calm, but his words dripped with menace. "I'm listening, and it better be a god-damn good reason. If not..." The unspoken threat hung in the air, leaving no doubt that Tristian's patience was wearing thin.

Tristian's gaze narrowed as the men spoke, their words dripping with a sense of urgency and gravity. "Boss, you're needed overseas," one said, prompting Tristian to raise an eyebrow.

"Mr. Welsh wants to have a meeting with you, and you must go," another added, his voice laced with distress.

Tristian's expression darkened as the third man spoke, "Things are getting out of hand in the underworld. The big boss is missing, and her team is quiet. They're calling a meeting in the next two days."

The fourth man's words were laced with a sense of detachment, "We beg to differ, but the mole here is invisible. Let's face the real dance. Your company will survive the crises, but duty calls."

Tristian's temple throbbed as he massaged it, a string of curses escaping his lips. His men exchanged surprised glances, wondering when their boss had acquired such a colorful vocabulary.

"How could she go missing when she knows what would happen?" Tristian's voice was laced with disappointment and dissatisfaction. "With those greedy bastards looking for an opportunity to grasp every power they come across..."

His gaze snapped to Luke, "Book an evening flight." Then to Grant, "Tighten up security. My woman is in danger. Don't fuck up with her safety, or your balls will be fucked up."

The man to his right, Grant, flinched at Tristian's stern tone, his eyes widening in understanding. The room fell silent, the weight of Tristian's words hanging in the air like a challenge. Like any other man, Grant values his balls, after all he needs to reproduce in the future with it.

Grant's question hung in the air, "When will you introduce us to her? I've been hearing whispers from the shadows of how regal your wife is. Who is she? And how did you land in her life?"

Tristian's expression softened, his cold aura dissipating as he spoke of his wife in a serene tone, "She was brought home by the devious ones, on her wedding day. They practically took advantage of her groom's stupidity, and I've never been more grateful than that. She was everything Lysanderia wasn't... I can't put it in words, but she's more than regal."

The room fell silent, the men exchanging shocked glances. Never had their boss compared any woman to his ex-wife before.

The seventh man asked, his voice laced with amusement, "What is the name of this wonderful woman who has you wrapped around her waist like this?"