I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World-Chapter 205: Final Approach

May 9th, 2024 — 7:30 AM

Sentinel HQ, BGC — Executive Coordination Room

Matthew flipped through the day's agenda on his tablet, but his mind wasn't entirely on the morning's strategic review. Across the table, Angel was calmly discussing supply chain reinforcements for the Pulse Phase 4 expansions with the logistics head, her voice clear and confident.

But every few minutes, her foot would bump lightly against his under the table—barely noticeable. A silent, shared tether between work mode and everything they weren't saying out loud.

Because today wasn't just another day of schedules and system tests.

Today, after months of private blueprints and half-joking Gantt charts, they were finalizing their wedding date.

Not "someday."

Not "maybe."

A real date.

A real plan.

When the meeting finally ended, Matthew barely waited for the room to clear before sliding a small manila folder across the table to her.

Angel arched an eyebrow. "More logistics?"

"Final shortlists," he said, tapping the folder.

She opened it, flipping through the pages: venue confirmation from Taal, tentative catering menus, acoustic band options, even a detailed guest seating draft with alternate weather plans.

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

At the very back was a simple sheet:

November 16th, 2024 — Reserved.

Angel traced the date with her thumb.

"It's happening," she murmured, almost in disbelief.

Matthew smiled. "It's happening."

—

9:45 AM — Sentinel HQ Rooftop Garden

They escaped upstairs afterward, away from the eyes and ears of the command hub. The rooftop garden wasn't exactly private, but it was quiet enough for breathing room.

Angel perched on the stone bench, sunlight filtering through the young acacia trees overhead. Matthew leaned against the railing nearby, arms crossed, just watching her.

"Have you told anyone yet?" she asked, swinging her feet lightly.

"Not yet," he said. "You?"

She shook her head. "Feels nice, keeping it ours a little longer."

Matthew stepped closer. "We could tell the team after the milestone review next week."

Angel laughed. "What, announce it between progress graphs and tunneling rates?"

He grinned. "Exactly. Very on-brand."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "We could even display the wedding seating chart using project management software."

Matthew pretended to be scandalized. "Too chaotic. We'd lose half the interns to confusion."

Angel smiled, reaching out to hook her pinky around his. "We'll figure it out."

He squeezed back. "Together."

—

11:30 AM — Rockwell, Jewelry District — Bespoke Atelier

Matthew had arranged the appointment a week ago under a pseudonym to avoid leaks. Angel insisted on joining, despite joking that she was "tempted to leave it up to fate."

The workshop smelled of fresh-cut wood and cool steel. The jeweler, an older man with hands scarred from decades of craft, welcomed them warmly.

"So, classic bands?" he asked, flipping open a slim portfolio of sample designs.

Angel and Matthew shared a glance.

"Simple," Matthew said. "Clean lines. Something that'll last fifty years and still look right."

"Nothing flashy," Angel added. "Something built to endure."

The jeweler smiled knowingly. "A marriage of architects," he said, sketching quickly. "I understand."

They chose brushed platinum bands, subtle bevels, with a tiny inscription etched on the inside of each.

Angel's idea.

Not quotes. Not dates.

Just two words:

Built to Last.

When the paperwork was done, they stepped outside into the late morning sun.

Angel slipped her hand into Matthew's without hesitation.

"I like this part," she said.

Matthew squeezed her hand. "Me too."

—

2:00 PM — HQ, BGC — Angel's Office

Between back-to-back site updates, Angel found a sliver of breathing room and opened her private email.

There, waiting patiently, was a draft titled:

Operation Forever: Final Mobilization Schedule.

Matthew had updated it overnight.

She skimmed through it, smiling as she caught the final few action points:

Final RSVP collection: September 1

Rehearsal dinner: November 14

Final dress fitting: October 18

Honeymoon flights: Pending "Angel Approval"

At the bottom, a simple note:

"Whatever happens, we build it right. Together. — M"

Angel closed her laptop slowly, her heart full and steady.

There was no cold sweat. No panic.

Just certainty.

A quiet, steady hum of rightness, like the first flawless pulse of a new tunnel alignment.

—

4:30 PM — BGC, Private Café

They met after hours at a small café tucked away from the main strip—a favorite hideaway where no one wore hard hats or rushed project reports onto the table.

Matthew had already grabbed a booth, two coffees cooling between them.

Angel slid in, dropping her bag with a sigh.

"Long day?" he asked.

"Productive," she said, stealing a sip of his coffee.

They sat in easy silence for a few minutes before Matthew pulled something from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table.

Angel blinked.

It was a plane ticket.

One-way.

Destination: Bohol.

Departure: two days after the wedding.

She picked it up slowly, staring at it.

"You planned the honeymoon?" she said, voice softer than before.

"Partial plan," he admitted. "Beachside. Private. No construction schedules. No meetings. Just us."

Angel smiled so wide it hurt. "You're serious."

"I want to build with you," Matthew said quietly. "But I also want to breathe with you."

She folded the ticket gently and slipped it into her bag. "Then let's do it."

—

7:00 PM — Rockwell, Matthew's Apartment

Later that night, they sat on the balcony again, the city sprawling out beneath them in thousands of tiny glowing windows.

Angel leaned against him, tracing lazy circles on his arm with her finger.

Matthew turned his head slightly. "You still scared?"

She shook her head. "Not scared."

"What then?"

She thought about it for a moment. "It's like... waiting at a launch site. You know something incredible is coming. But you also know once it starts, there's no going back."

Matthew smiled. "I'd launch with you."

She laughed softly. "Terrible metaphor."

"But accurate."

She kissed his shoulder. "Let's launch."

And for once, there were no doubts.

No reservations.

Just two builders ready to start the biggest project of their lives.

Not a tunnel.

Not a city.

A life.

Built together, exclusively for them.