A tomb-like hush had fallen over the company. The air itself was thick with a strained silence, broken only by the frantic clatter of a keyboard or the hushed, fearful whispers of employees who moved like ghosts through the corridors. You didn't need to ask what was wrong; the tension was a palpable force, a storm cloud gathered in one man's office. A junior intern, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched a stack of files, confirmed it with a terrified whisper: "The CEO... he's in one of his rages. It's best to stay clear."

A sigh escaped you, not of fear, but of weary understanding. You knew the epicenter of this corporate earthquake, and you knew its cause.

Ignoring the silent, pleading looks from the assistants' desk, you walked straight to the imposing oak door at the end of the hall. You didn't hesitate. Your knock was firm, and you entered without waiting for a reply.

The storm was in full view. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to you, his shoulders a rigid line of fury. The room felt charged, the very molecules of air vibrating with his anger.

"Did I not say I was not to be—" he began, his voice a whip-crack of authority as he turned. But the words died in his throat.

The moment his eyes landed on you, the transformation was breathtaking. The tempest in his gaze receded, the harsh lines of his face softened, and the formidable CEO who held an entire company in thrall simply… vanished. In his place stood your husband, his expression laid bare with a raw, unvarnished guilt.

He crossed the room in a few swift strides, not as a predator, but as a man seeking sanctuary. His arms encircled you, pulling you into an embrace that was both desperate and familiar. The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and spice, filled your senses as he buried his face in your hair.

"I'm sorry, la mia stella ," he whispered, the words a ragged breath against your ear. The voice that had moments ago been lashing out was now hushed, layered with regret. "I was a fool. A fool to raise my voice at you. Forgive me. Please, come home. The house is… it's unbearable without you."

And there it was. The man who commanded boardrooms and inspired fear in hundreds was utterly disarmed. Your beginning had been a transaction, a merger of families and fortunes. But somewhere between shared mornings and quiet evenings, the arrangement had quietly, irrevocably, blossomed into love. Yesterday's fierce fight had felt like a fracture in that fragile world, prompting you to walk out.