At Noria Group, Charles noticed a change in his boss, Matthew, since the weekend. While Matthew seemed as frosty as ever on the surface, his demeanor was subtly different—softer, and he seemed in a better mood. Charles even considered asking for a raise while Matthew was in this improved state.

The strange feeling peaked at noon during the lunch break. Charles went to the office to order the usual premium set from Golden Elegance, as he always did. Instead, Matthew surprised everyone by pulling a lunchbox from his bag and asking about the microwave. That's when things got truly bizarre.

A lunchbox? Seriously! Charles would have thought anyone mentioning Matthew and a lunchbox in the same sentence was joking. But now, it hit him: his usually aloof boss was displaying surprisingly human qualities.

The aloof Matthew, who always remembered his umbrella and packed his lunch (Charles had always admired Miss Warren for taming Matthew's famously bad temper), now seemed downright remarkable.

The CEO's office was at the top of Noria Tower, with senior leadership on the two floors below. They mostly ordered lunch, so microwaves were scarce; the few available were in the open workspace below. Matthew took the elevator down three floors.

A group of junior managers were in the break room, planning their lunch. Seeing Matthew, they panicked, fearing they'd made a serious mistake. They were terrified, barely daring to breathe, afraid the boss might fire someone on the spot.

To their surprise, Matthew ignored them, heading straight for the break room. Their relief was short-lived. Moments later, Matthew emerged and pointed at one of them.

"Mr. Grant you needed me for something?" the manager stammered, frantically trying to remember anything he'd done wrong.

Matthew's question caught him off guard: "The microwave—why isn't it working?"

The manager rushed to the break room and found the microwave's plug loose. He plugged it back in. "All good now, Mr. Grant."

"Thanks," Matthew said. "How many minutes does it usually take to heat up a meal?"

Five minutes later, Matthew sauntered out with his heated lunch. The entire office fell eerily silent until he was out of earshot. Then, disbelief turned to excited chatter.

"No way, I must be seeing things! The big boss microwaved a lunchbox?"

"Nah, you're not imagining it. I saw it too. But guys, are we overreacting? It's probably homemade food from his family. I heard Mrs. Grant spoils him rotten."

"Doubt it's from his grandmother. She once sent him a lunchbox—a fancy spread made by their chefs. But did you see Mr. Grant's? Just regular home-cooked food. Smelled good, though."

"Damn, you think Mr. Grant's got himself a partner? Snag someone from the mighty Grant family, and you're golden!"

"Oh god, I always thought Mr. Grant would go for some bombshell, not a homebody. Should I start packing lunchboxes, too, or am I too late?"

Charles couldn't resist the gossip and rushed to tell Matthew. "Mr. Grant, everyone's going crazy, speculating about the mysterious woman who's won your heart!"

Matthew unpacked his fork and spoon, opening his lunchbox. Glancing up briefly, he remarked calmly, "Tiresome chatter."

"Now you find idle talk tiresome? Why didn't you realize that earlier?" Charles wondered, but lacked the courage to confront the man flaunting his homemade lunchbox. Charles realized his frosty boss was a total show-off at heart. Mr. Grant used to look down on Miss Warren; now he was flaunting his newfound domesticity. "That's a major self-burn, Mr. Grant," Charles muttered.

11:26 AM

As Charles muttered, Matthew focused on his lunch. After a tasty spaghetti breakfast, he anticipated this meal: pan-fried fish fillet, shrimp, broccoli, and creamy soup. The colors and nutrition were enticing.

Distracted by the gossip, Charles forgot to order his own lunch. Watching Matthew eat, his hunger grew as he eyed the lunchbox enviously.

Catching Charles's gaze, Matthew frowned. "Tell your wife to pack you one next time."

Charles wished he could, but it depended on his wife's willingness and her cooking skills (which paled in comparison to Miss Warren's). He wondered if he was even allowed to feel jealous.

Just then, footsteps approached. Charles turned, his expression changing. "Mr. Grant, Mrs. Grant's here."

Sophia had quickly picked up on the employees' excited chatter. When she entered, Matthew's lunchbox was already half-empty. It was too late to hide it.

"Wow, who whipped up this lunch for you, Matthew?" Sophia asked.

"Grandma, you should have let me know you were coming," Matthew said.

"Let me know? I'm just visiting my grandson; do I need an appointment?" She ignored his attempt to change the subject. "Whose lunchbox is this? Some young lady's?"

Matthew didn't want his grandmother to find out about Valerie. Last time, she'd tried to arrange a marriage for him. If she learned Valerie was already his wife, it would complicate things.

Seeing his silence, Sophia's expression turned serious. "Matthew, don't tell me this is from Miss Santos."

Matthew knew she had the wrong idea and interrupted. "It's not from Lindsey."

Sophia relaxed.

In Kranson City, there were four prominent families: the Grants (top), Andersons, Reynolds, and Santos. Lindsey, the second Santos daughter, had a crush on Matthew, but the families were business rivals, making any romance complicated.

Ultimately, it didn't matter because of past issues between the Santos family and Matthew. Sophia wanted nothing to do with the Santos family.

Hearing Matthew's denial, Sophia relaxed, realizing she might be overthinking. Matthew kept the Santos family at arm's length, and the pampered Santos girl wouldn't make lunchboxes anyway.

Sophia examined the modest lunchbox, guessing it was from an eager employee trying to impress him. It wasn't a real threat; she knew her grandson, always cool as a cucumber. Melting him would take more than a lunchbox—it needed a kind, caring girl like Valerie. So she let the office ladies play their games.

"Alright, if you think Grandma's just being nosy, I'll back off. It's good someone's taking care of your meals. You never eat right. Haven't seen you in ages, but you're looking healthier now, your face is filling out nicely. That's how a man should be, not just skin and bones." Sophia chuckled, oblivious to Matthew's tight grip on his spoon.

Matthew's expression twitched slightly. He wondered if he'd actually gained weight.