The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me-Chapter 240: The Best of News Advertisement

I got home a little earlier than usual. Not early-early, just the kind of early that meant the elevator didn't smell like coffee anymore and the lobby security actually looked awake.

The door clicked open—and the first thing I noticed was the smell.

Garlic, onions, something sautéing, and the faint hiss of heat against a pan.

Val was cooking.

Not unusual—she cooked often enough—but the smell hit me first, warm and familiar, and it made the apartment feel instantly alive.

"Val?" I called, dropping my bag by the wall.

"Kitchen!" she shouted back.

I followed the voice—and there she was at the stove, sleeves rolled up, hair tied loosely, one hand holding a wooden spoon like it personally offended her. Aline was chopping something beside her, humming softly. Duchess sat at her feet, tail flicking, staring up like a tiny, demanding supervisor.

Val glanced over her shoulder. "You're back early."

"Yeah," I said, leaning on the doorframe. "You're back early too."

She shrugged. "I finished everything I needed to. No point staying to stare at walls." She nudged Aline's elbow. "Pass me the pepper."

Aline obeyed with a gentle smile. "Welcome home sir."

"Thanks," I said.

Val stirred the pot twice, then—without looking at me—said, "Congratulations, husband."

I blinked.

She didn't even turn. She just kept stirring, smirk lifting slowly on her face like she was waiting for the reaction.

I blinked, partly because her timing was perfect, partly because she sounded very pleased with herself.

She finally turned toward me, leaning a hip against the counter. "Main contractor," she said with a proud little lift of her chin. "Gray & Milton."

There it was. The confirmation I knew she'd already have. Of course she'd know.

If the Council contacted her company with their ranking, she would've asked who took the top slot. She wasn't the type to sit and wait for public announcements; she'd go straight to the source.

Aline smiled warmly. "Congratulations, sir."

Duchess meowed her own contribution, tail flicking like she was joining the celebration—or demanding attention. Hard to tell with her.

Val's smile softened. "I'm proud of you," she said. "Really proud."

Val's smile didn't fade, not even a little. I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "So… what about you guys? Did you—"

"First Sub-Contractor," she said before I even finished, tone warm and steady. "So we'll be reporting directly to you guys."

She said it like it was good news. Like she was genuinely happy about it.

And the way her eyes softened at me… yeah. She meant it.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "You're sure you're… okay with it?"

That made her roll her eyes, step closer, and poke my chest lightly. "Kai. I've been waiting to congratulate you since noon. I'm very okay with it."

"Just checking," I said quietly. "Because you know… everything that's been happening for you. I didn't want my stuff to—"

"Kai." She poked me again. Firmer. "I am happy. For you. One hundred and ten percent." A beat. "Don't look so suspicious."

"I don't look suspicious."

> "Uh-huh."

"I'm just… assessing."

"You look suspicious," she repeated, smirking.

I sighed. "Okay, maybe a little."

Val reached up to adjust my tie—even though it wasn't crooked—then stepped back. "You deserve this. And you worked hard for it. So accept it."

I nodded, the tension easing out of my shoulders.

She lifted the wooden spoon like a weapon. "Now go. Shower. Change, because"—she pointed the spoon at the table already half-set—"this is a celebratory dinner."

Aline nodded. "A very good one, sir. Madame insisted."

Val ignored the title but smiled faintly. "I'm trying something new. So if you hear a fire alarm, mind your business."

Duchess meowed loudly as if backing her up.

I snorted. "Should I be worried?"

"No," Val said. "But you should be out of my kitchen. Go freshen up."

"I can help—"

She stepped forward and physically pushed my shoulders. "Out."

"But—"

"Kai Tanaka," she said sternly, "if you touch anything in this kitchen, I'm banishing you to the living room."

Aline tried (and failed) not to laugh.

"Banish?" I echoed. "I come home to threats now?"

"It's called protecting dinner," she said, bumping the pot lid into my chest as a barrier. "Go and shower before you contaminate my seasoning with your corporate stress."

"…I don't have corporate stress."

"You always have corporate stress." She flicked her eyes toward me, playful. "Now go."

I raised both hands. "Alright, alright—jeez. You're strict today."

She paused just a breath—barely noticeable—then looked back at the stove. "Not strict. Efficient."

"…Okay?" I said slowly, not sure why she sounded like she was dodging something, but trusting her enough not to press.

"Good," she said, already waving me off. "Now move."

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered, backing toward the door like someone retreating from a queen.

Duchess followed me halfway out before deciding Val was more interesting and trotted back to the stove.

I headed toward the hallway, glancing back once.

Val was stirring again, content, focused, the kitchen warm and humming with quiet movement.

Aline set plates with careful precision.

Duchess circled Val's leg like she was part of the ceremony.

The house felt… different tonight.

Brighter.

Lighter.

Alive in a way that made my chest feel full.

I smiled to myself and finally headed to shower and change, the warmth of their voices still drifting behind me like a promise.

---

Dinner didn't take long, but it didn't have to.

It was one of those meals—simple on the surface, but perfectly seasoned, perfectly balanced, perfectly Val. I'd stopped getting surprised years ago. Even when she claimed she was "just trying something," it still came out tasting like she'd been refining the recipe since childhood.

After we cleared the table (well—she cooked, so I insisted on dishes before she kicked me out again), we headed upstairs.

I beat her to the bed.

Mostly because I had a whole promotion announcement burning a hole in my chest, and sitting early felt like anchoring myself before I burst.

She closed the door behind her, crossed the room, and sat beside me—

—and immediately said:

> "Dad made me Chief Operating Officer today."

I blinked. Hard.

"…Wait. Like... COO of Moreau Dynamics?"

She nodded, letting out a long exhale as she slid her hair behind her ear. "Since Lucien botched the Meridian Project and Dad couldn't demote him because it'd look bad for his name… he decided to promote me. Right there."

My mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"Val… that's—you're—wow." I laughed under my breath, because it was the only sound my lungs could form. "That's huge. Congratulations."

She didn't smile. Not really. She just sighed again, softer this time. "It's… a lot of load, Kai."

"You can handle it," I said without hesitation. "If anyone on earth can handle it, it's you."

Her lips twitched, the corners lifting just slightly. "You're biased."

"Yeah," I said, "and still right."

She nudged her shoulder against mine, just once.

Then her gaze sharpened a little. "What about you? You said over the phone that Hale talked to you."

"Oh—yeah." I sat up a bit straighter. "He and I went to the CFO's office today. Mr. Whitford. He, uh… commended me for the financial framework on the project."

Her eyes lit up immediately. "Kai, what?!" She grabbed my arm like I'd just casually told her I won a national award. "Are you serious? The CFO of Gray & Milton? Do you know how crazy that is?" She was already bouncing a little. "Husband, if he's noticing you, that's not small. That's not normal. That's—" She snapped her fingers. "—that's promotion energy. That's 'put him in charge before someone steals him' energy."

I laughed. "Val—"

"No, I'm serious." She was fully in hype-mode now, the same way she always rooted for me in college. "If the CFO is calling you out by name, Kai? You're not just on their radar. You're basically circled, highlighted, and underlined."

She jabbed a finger lightly into my arm, practically buzzing. "Keep this up and they're going to promote you. I'm not even kidding. This is exactly how it starts."

I couldn't help it.

A smirk pulled at my mouth.

"Already did."

Her eyes snapped toward me. "Uh?"

"You," I said, trying not to grin too wide, "are looking at the Finance Manager of the Urban Projects Division. Gray & Milton."

For a second she just stared.

Then—

Val beamed.

Not just a smile.

Not a polite or supportive or encouraging expression.

A full, unguarded, brilliantly bright Val beam—one of those that hit me straight in the chest with no warning and no mercy.

"Kai," she breathed, except it wasn't soft in a timid way—it was soft because she was overflowing. Pride, excitement, everything. "That's incredible. Oh my God, I'm so bragging about this tomorrow."

I blinked. "Uh… kinda weird though, right? Since Gray & Milton basically took the award from your company?"

She waved that off so fast it was comical. "I don't care. I genuinely don't." Then she grabbed my hand, eyes sparkling so much it felt unfair. "My husband. Finance Manager of Gray & Milton. And in what—four years? Five?" She let out a breathy laugh, stunned in the best way. "Wow. Just… wow."

I kissed her forehead, because I didn't know where else to put the feeling building in my ribs.

She leaned against me, quiet for a moment but she didn't bring up Lucien, or shares, or the tension sitting somewhere between her and her father. I could feel it, the weight she was carrying, but she didn't hand it to me. Not tonight.

And I didn't push.

She deserved a moment of peace.

We both did.

So I wrapped an arm around her, letting the silence settle in comfortably.

Two promotions.

One home.

One kitchen smelling like her cooking.

And the woman I loved sitting beside me, proud, tired, and holding more than she was saying—but staying close anyway.

Tomorrow could deal with the rest.

Tonight was enough.

---

To be continued...