The Red String Between Us Part II: Frayed Threads

第42章Another event

      The email arrived just after lunch, subject line bold and impossible to ignore: Aoki Global International Gala – Formal Announcement of Liaison Initiative.

I opened the invitation slowly, letting my eyes scan over the details. A black-tie gala—formal, international, and not in Tokyo as I had expected, but in Los Angeles, California. A glittering stage where every division head and newly appointed liaison would be presented to the world.

Another event. Networking was part of the job, and I usually didn't mind, but there were times I wished I could skip the endless formalities. Still, with my role at Aoki Global, that was never truly an option.

My name stood beside Mallory's on the program—me as CEO of the Japan division, her as my newly appointed liaison. The distance between Japan and the U.S. suddenly felt much smaller, as though the world itself was pulling us all into the same spotlight.

There was, however, one silver lining. My best friend Claire lived in Big Sur, California. If time allowed, I could see her again—just a short flight away, and the thought of reconnecting brought me a flicker of comfort amidst the weight of expectation.

      By late afternoon, Mia appeared in my doorway, invitation card in hand, her eyes alight with excitement. "This is huge, Eden! The press will eat it up. You'll be front and center. Everyone's going to be watching."

Her words lingered long after she left. Watching. Yes—watching Mallory too.

Already, whispers had begun threading through the office. Mallory's history with Kenji wasn't a secret, not to those who'd been with Aoki Global long enough. The only secret lurking in my building is me and Kenjis relationship. I'd caught fragments in hallways, murmurs over coffee: It'll be just like old times. Kenji and Mallory together again—a perfect power duo.

The unspoken suggestion stung: that the gala might not only cement the company's new initiative, but also recast Kenji and Mallory as something they no longer were. Meanwhile, I would stand at the podium, professional smile in place, unable to reveal the truth of my own story with him.

      That evening, over dinner, Kenji read the same email on his phone, his jaw tightening. "So," he said, voice clipped, "the board wants to parade their new initiative in L.A. And of course, the media will be there, and many investors as well."

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing in with the weight of both possibility and risk. The thoughts of glittering lights of Los Angeles beckoned, promising champagne, cameras, and headlines.

And somewhere in the quiet, the question I hadn't dared to voice grew louder: how much longer could we hide, when the narrative was already being written without us?

....... TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK 3