A few minutes past twelve at night, Olivia received a call from Marc.

She was still working on her laptop and had assumed that Marc would be staying out that night; in his penthouse.

"Hello?"

"I'm at the door, can you please open it?" he requested with a slight drawl, "I don't want to wake the others by ringing the bell."

She was already heading downstairs in her maroon colored silk night gown by the time he was finished. She hung up without replying and opened one side of the large oak double doors.

"Did I wake you up?" Marc inquired.

She didn't reply though. Most of her nights were spent working and Marc was aware of it.

Instead, she observed her husband's state.

His shirt seemed crumpled and his suit jacket was missing; probably left behind in his office. Marc's hair was disheveled to say the least; almost as if he had run his fingers through it far too many times. His face was stoic as well.

Something was wrong but she wasn't one to pry into his business.

"I'll be in my office." Marc informed, "...working."

She snorted, "Of course."

He furrowed his eyebrows but didn't bother commenting.

Olivia heard his stomach grumble but he wasn't paying any heed to that as he headed towards the study room which was also his second office.

But Olivia was not done yet. She needed to have a talk with him and this was her moment.

She went back upstairs-to their room- in order to fetch her laptop and a few important files.

She was on her way towards Marc's office when she stopped and headed towards the opposite direction; where the kitchen was situated.

Marc was fairly surprised when the door to his office opened and a struggling Olivia appeared. She had a few files and a laptop tucked on one hand while the other carried a tray with a dish on top of it.

He immediately busied himself helping her with the tray; his eyes darted around wondering where to put it.

The room was not as big as the other ones in the mansion but that was what he liked about it. Too much empty space bred loneliness.

The wall opposite to the door was covered by shelves full of books he was dying to read but didn't have the time to do so.

There was also a sofa set on one side of the room accompanied by a coffee table. He decided to place the tray there and take a seat on the sofa, "What is it?" he looked towards Olivia who had just set her stuff on his office desk placed on the opposite side of the room.

She approached the tray and made a show of lifting the lid, "Last night's lasagna! Perfect for billionaire's who don't inform their wives about their whereabouts at all!"

Marc smiled apologetically, "Yes, sorry about that." He paused, "But I don't feel like eating." He refused out of politeness.

"That's great then; because I'm starving." Olivia handed him a set of fork and spoon while taking one herself, "But it will be weird if you just keep staring. So, dig in."

She scooped up a spoonful and put it in her mouth. Marc didn't need to be asked twice.

"There was nothing else left in the fridge; we thought you'd stay at the penthouse."

Marc was too busy to notice that Olivia had put her fork-spoon down. He briefly glanced upwards when she fetched a few files that she had brought previously and returned to her seat.

She waited for him to finish of the bowl and take a breather before handing him the files; her expression unreadable.

There were two files; brown and red.

It was the red one that caught his attention. It looked all too familiar and his breath hitched. With shaky hands he grabbed the red file from Olivia; completely ignoring the other one.

When Olivia raised an eyebrow at that, he forced out a casual smile, "What is this?"

She leaned back on her seat and shrugged, "You tell me."

Marc chuckled nervously and opened the file with steady hands. His eyes widened as he read the content, "You want another honeymoon?"

"Huh?" Olivia looked at him with a confused expression, "What are you talking about?" she snatched the file from his hands and sure enough, there was a single leaflet; an advertisement of a traveling agency.

"No, I mean, your P.A. told me it contained important documents and needed your sign on them!"

Realization dawned on Marc, "He might've switched it up with the wrong one." His tone was a lot calmer.

"That's possible." Olivia nodded reluctantly. When she had noticed that file earlier morning and was about to check it out, Daniel had barged in. He had snatched it away almost as if it contained confidential document thus, spiking up her curiosity.

He had also told her Marc had asked for it and he had left the building in order to work at home without disturbance. The latter one was obviously not true.

Nonetheless, she had assured him that she would deliver it to her husband and had kept her nose out of it.

"Anyway, what are you working on?" She changed the topic. She was aware Marc was pretty tired but this was something she needed to address.

She had noticed the hand written notes on his desk while placing her laptop there.

"Just some stuff..." Marc dismissed.

"Marc." There was a warning tone laced to her words, "I know you weren't paying attention at the meeting this morning."

She took his silence as confirmation, "You also left office halfway through the day. You wasted a week day."

Marc sighed, "It was not the best day. Just drop it, okay?" he could feel the conversation taking a sour turn.

"You're not the only one to have bad days, Marc. We have them too but do we get the privilege to just walkout?"

Her anger flared when Marc got up from the sofa and opened the door, "I won't deal with you right now. Please, leave before I-"

"No, you don't get to tell me here. You complete disregarded my team's effort!" Olivia exclaimed, "You sabotaged the board meeting and now the directors know how irresponsib-"

"I told you to JUST DROP IT!" Marc slammed the door, "For heaven's sake, stop nagging!" he rubbed his temples.

"Alright then, I'll leave you alone."

Marc flinched as her voice wavered. He felt guilt replacing his previous annoyance; Olivia hated talking in raised voice.

"Wait, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright. I completely understand."

He swore under his breathe, "You don't, Olivia."

Olivia moved forward to exit the room but Marc stopped her, "I know what they think of me."

She felt him stand behind her and place his hands on her rigid shoulders, "I'm incompetent, unworthy and unqualified for this job."

He started to gently massage her shoulders, "That might be true as well. But I'm a hard worker, Olivia." He paused, "The Company might not flourish as much as it used to before. But I can assure you, it won't witness any loss under my lead."

She felt the rigidness of her muscles dissolve as she relaxed a bit, "You don't have to impress me, Marc." She stated honestly.

She wasn't obligated to go according to his whims and nor was he.

"I feel like impressing you." She squirmed as Marc breathed out right above her shoulder. One of his hands trailed down from her shoulders. While, the other one pulled her closer and closer...

Until her back bumped into the hard surface of his chest.

Her breathing became ragged and by the sound of it, so did his.

She shut her eyes closed, savoring the moment as he placed a feather light kiss on the exposed area of her shoulder.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

'Beep!'

Olivia's eyes opened with a startle at the sudden sound and she immediately pulled away in surprise. Her eyes darted around and finally settled on Marc- who had busied himself in finding the uncultured intruder.

A few blonde curls escaped from her messy bun onto her warm face and she was sure her ears had turned an angry red.

"It's really late, isn't it?" her voice was a few pitch higher than intended. "Maybe, I should go to bed already."

Marc nodded his head vigorously, "You definitely should. Tomorrow's a week day, right?" He forced out a smile, "I still have some work left to do."

She cleared her throat and as calmly as possible bid him farewell, "Goodnight."

She was on her way back upstairs that she remembered the small piece of paper she had picked from his office earlier that day. She was supposed to give it to Marc but completely forgot.

Just when she was about to lean towards his desk to pick up the file, the empty trash can placed beside the desk got knocked by her feet.

Cursing herself for not being observant enough, she had bent down to place it back on its position when the small paper ball had caught her attention. She had unfurled it to notice an eleven digit number on it.

Deeming it important, she had kept it.

And important it definitely was.