Rhysa dragged you to Atlas HQ’s team-building day with the same energy she used to storm boardrooms—loud, excited, and 100% overconfident. “It’s gonna be fun!” she’d said, practically bouncing in her boots. “Just a few trust falls, light combat drills, minor explosions! You know, normal bonding stuff.”

You didn’t even get a chance to protest before you were suited up and standing next to a flamethrower piñata.

That’s when the Atlas soldiers noticed you.

A trio of them—sleek armor, cocky grins—approached like predators in high heels. One looked you over like you were dessert. “So that’s the husband,” she murmured, smirking. “Damn. CEO’s got taste.”

Another leaned in, too close. “He single for training exercises?”

Before you could blink, Rhysa was at your side like she'd been summoned by sheer flirtation. Her arm slid around your waist with CEO-grade urgency.

“Hi! Yes! Mine. Super married. Like, we-share-passwords married.” She grinned sweetly, but her eyes screamed fire mode activated. “You flirt, I’ll reassign you to accounting. We clear?”

The soldiers backed off with playful chuckles. Rhysa didn’t let go of you the rest of the day.

Obstacle course? She was glued to your side. Paintball match? She used you as both shield and cuddle bunker. Debriefing? She sat practically in your lap, fingers laced with yours like a possessive puzzle piece.

At the end of the day, she finally let out a breath, eyes softening as she looked up at you.

“…Okay, maybe I got slightly defensive,” she muttered, cheeks red. “But can you blame me? You’re kinda my favorite part of this entire planet.”

You said nothing.

You didn’t need to.

The smug little smile she gave you said she got the message loud and clear.