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Another checkmark.

“I organized transportation from the airport to the hotels, and from the hotels to the venue and back,” Selene adds, earning another mark from Beatrix.

“I finalized the last details for transporting your suits and our dresses,” Sierra announces from the other end of the table.

Another task completed.

“The décor will be delivered and set up that morning,” Thalia says, scrolling through something on her own tablet. “The invitations were sent out two weeks ago, and we collected all the RSVPs yesterday.”

“Security is ready,” Ethan announces.

“We doubled the number of guards,” Colt adds. “And yes, it was necessary,” he says after a moment, his gaze moving from Sierra to Thalia.

This time, neither of them argues. If anything, they both seem relieved to hear it.

The accident that took Irina—and part of our private flight crew with her—shocked all of us.

We feel Irina’s absence at the office every day, but not simply because she worked for us. She was the kind of woman you could talk to about anything, someone who always said exactly what she thought without caring whether it bothered anyone or not, regardless of who she was speaking to or what position they held. We could always count on her to take care of the important things that needed to get done.

But Ethan took her loss the hardest.

My brothers and I could do little more than stand by and watch as he struggled through the transition afterward. We partially cleared our assistants’ schedules so he could delegate the responsibilities that had belonged to Irina.

Eventually, he adjusted, and things still work that way because he flat-out refuses to hire another assistant.

Thalia helps him whenever she can, and the fact that her desk is only a few meters from his office probably makes things easier. She handles everything related to the event-planning company, but Ethan started giving her additional responsibilities as well.

And Thalia splits her time between her company and his tasks without a single complaint. She seems genuinely happy whenever she has the chance to help him.

“The band confirmed their schedules and arrival times,” Aiden tells us.

Beatrix marks off another item.

Then, a little more hesitantly this time, she lifts her gaze from the tablet and looks at me carefully.

I only understand why when she asks, “Everything arranged with the food and drinks?”

Without realizing it, my fingers tighten around the pen in my hand until the plastic cracks, the sharp sound echoing through the conference room.

There’s one week left until the event, and Lorelay fulfilled her contractual obligations in record time. Every location has already been supplied with food and drinks, and the storage facilities are fully stocked.

But after our last conversation, I never contacted her again to discuss the catering for the event itself.

And when Beatrix tried to speak with her, Lorelay told her that if I needed anything, I could ask her personally.

The delivery is supposed to arrive the morning of the event, so technically, there’s still time, and I doubt she’s unprepared.

Still, I refused to call her.

“Working on that,” I answer as casually as possible.

I had hoped Lorelay would realize I was serious and agree to sit down with me like two business partners. Apparently, I was wrong.

But that’s a problem for after the event.

No one reacts to my answer. It would be perfectly normal for us to still be coordinating with the supplier, and none of them knows what’s actually going on.

Selene must notice the shift in my mood because she studies me for a brief moment before gently squeezing my hand beneath the table, a quiet attempt to reassure me that everything will work out.