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“You didn’t need to.”

Marie chose that moment to stand, turn in an unnecessarily precise circle and lie down again on Leo’s shirt.

Leo sighed.

Vivienne laughed.

And Leo looked at her as though that laugh was still one of the rarest things in the world.

Perhaps to Leo, it was.

The old Vivienne Strauss had not laughed enough.

She knew that now.

The woman she had been a year ago had built her life around control. Around contingency plans. Around never needing anyone enough that their absence could hurt her.

That woman had survived.

But she had changed.

Her company had survived too.

There had been damage. Questions. Headlines. Long days and longer meetings. The fallout had not disappeared simply because the danger had.

Vivienne had done what she always did.

She had faced it.

She had rebuilt what needed rebuilding, defended what needed defending and refused to allow the actions of anyone else to define the business she had spent decades creating.

And eventually the noise had quietened.

The company remained hers.

Strong.

Profitable.

Alive.

But Vivienne no longer allowed it to consume every piece of her.

That might have been the biggest change of all.

She had finally understood that an empire was not much comfort if there was nobody waiting for you when you came home.

Now there was always someone waiting.

Sometimes two someones, although Marie generally made it clear that Vivienne was the preferred human.

Leo picked up another shirt from the chair and pulled it on.

“You know she does that deliberately.”

Vivienne swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“She’s a cat.”