Chapter 280
Before leaving Fox Group, Khloe made one final stop to complete the formalities needed to further dilute the Fox family’s remaining influence. Only when every procedural detail was confirmed did she step out of the building.
Outside, she immediately noticed the atmosphere had shifted.
People were watching her.
Not openly, not boldly—but in that careful, restrained way people looked at something unpredictable. Something dangerous.
The news had already spread. Trey’s scandal had exploded across Goldmont City, and Khloe’s counterattack had been just as decisive. To outsiders, it looked like two forces colliding without restraint, dragging an entire corporation through the storm.
Few could tell where justice ended and ruthlessness began. Fewer still cared.
On the surface, Khloe remained composed as she walked past the wary stares. Only she knew the faint heaviness sitting in her chest—an emotion she didn’t stop to name, only carried with her into the evening.
That night, as soon as she returned home, she called Nick.
It was their agreed routine—three video calls a day. She had missed one, and the fact lingered in her mind longer than she expected. Not guilt exactly… but something close to it.
The call didn’t connect immediately.
Assuming he was still busy, she put her phone on speaker and walked into the kitchen. There was food in the fridge, but she ignored it and instead reached for a packet of instant noodles. Something simple. Familiar.
Steam rose as she cooked, the scent filling the quiet room just as the video call finally came through.
Nick appeared on screen.
He was in a hotel room, still in a work setting. His phone shifted slightly as he walked in, Lenny’s voice faintly audible in the background before the door closed and the room went quiet.
“Sorry,” Nick said first. “I was just in the elevator.”
“It’s fine.” Khloe set the bowl down carefully on the counter. “You don’t need to explain every delay.”
He watched her for a second. “You’re eating that?”
Her chopsticks paused. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” he said, though his eyes lingered on the bowl as if silently judging it.
Khloe ignored him and leaned closer to the screen instead.
Nick had set his phone down now, the camera angled slightly upward. The lighting in the room was sharp, casting clean lines across his face. Even in a casual posture, he looked composed—too composed—like someone who never truly stepped out of control, even when resting.
Khloe studied him for a moment longer than necessary.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nick asked.
Her eyes didn’t move away. “Don’t move.”
A faint pause.
Even Lenny, offscreen, probably would’ve known better than to interrupt this moment.
“I’m checking if you’ve been overworking yourself,” she said lightly. “Are you tired?”
“I’m not,” Nick answered immediately, almost reflexively.
He leaned in slightly, as if to let her inspect him more clearly through the screen. The movement was subtle, but deliberate—like he was giving her permission to read him as closely as she wanted.
Khloe’s expression softened.
Her fingertip lifted, hovering near the screen where his eye would be.
Of course, there was only glass between them.
Still, she traced the air near his face as if she could measure him that way—confirming he was really there, really fine, really not falling apart somewhere she couldn’t see.
Nick’s gaze changed at that.
Something quiet shifted in his expression, like restraint loosening by a fraction.
“Khloe…” he said again, lower this time.
She withdrew her hand and straightened slightly. “You look okay. Not exhausted. Lenny must be doing his job.”
At the mention of Lenny, there was a faint sound of protest somewhere offscreen, quickly cut off.
But Khloe wasn’t really paying attention anymore.
Her eyes stayed on Nick, softer now than before—less sharp, less guarded.
She didn’t say it out loud, but the worry was there.
If he wasn’t this tired, he wouldn’t still be working this late.
If he wasn’t this busy, he would have called her first.