Chapter 4.

He remains still, his face filled with complete shock and a hint of anger.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’m extremely sorry, sir.”

“She’s sorry, sir.” Mr. Festus, my CEO, joins in, pleading on my behalf.

My eyes move from him to my boss, and the stern look on his face says it all.

Oh my God. Unfortunate things have just been happening to me lately. What do I do now?

“Sir, please, let me help you get it dry-cleaned. I can get you a new one—”

“It’s fine. Just show me to the restroom.”

He turns to his secretary. “Get me the spare shirt from the car.”

His secretary immediately turns and leaves, and I quickly lead Mr. Sinclair toward the restroom.

A few minutes later, he walks out with his shirt changed, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes on his face.

Shit. Look at those arms.

Sophy… behave.

“Sir, please, this way.” Mr. Festus gestures toward the conference room.

As we reach the door, he turns back to me, his face still stern.

“One last mistake and you’re gone,” he mouths.

The other members of the team begin filing into the room, taking their seats around the conference table as I move toward the front and stand beside the screen. I tighten my fingers around the remote, taking one last breath before clicking on the first slide.

“Good morning.”

My eyes move briefly around the room before settling on Mr. Sinclair.

“My name is Sophia, and I’m here today to present on the technology we believe can change the way businesses use artificial intelligence.”

I click to the next slide.

“Our platform was created to solve a problem that continues to affect businesses across different industries: having access to enormous amounts of data without an efficient way to turn that information into meaningful decisions.”

Another click, and the screen changes, displaying our AI platform.

“This is NEXUS.”

I go on to explain how the platform processes large amounts of information, identifies patterns, predicts potential outcomes, and provides recommendations based on the specific needs of each business.

“This isn’t simply another AI system designed to perform a single function. NEXUS is built to adapt to the way each company operates.”

I click again, bringing up a comparison chart.

“I know we’re not the only company in this market. There are already established companies offering similar solutions, some with considerably more resources than we have.”

I pause for a moment, allowing my words to settle before continuing.

“But that doesn’t make them better.”

I gesture toward the chart.

“Our platform can integrate with existing infrastructure without requiring companies to completely rebuild their systems. It can be deployed faster, customized to individual business needs, and our latest testing showed a predictive accuracy of 94.7 percent, which is higher than the leading platforms we tested it against.”

I click to the next slide.

“Our current clients have already demonstrated that this isn’t simply a promising concept. We’ve completed several successful pilot programs, and we’re now ready to scale.”

I take a breath before bringing up the final slide.

“We’re seeking an investment of forty million dollars in exchange for fifteen percent equity in the company.”

I look directly at Mr. Sinclair.

“We’re not asking you to invest because we’re the only company building this technology. We’re asking you to invest because we believe we’ve built something better.”

I lower the remote.

“And with Sinclair Technologies behind us, we believe we can take it considerably further.”

The room falls silent.

Mr. Sinclair doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches for the proposal sitting in front of him and begins turning through the pages, his expression giving nothing away. After a moment, he picks up his pen and begins circling certain sections and writing notes in the margins.

“I have a few changes,” he says, tapping the document with his pen.

“Okay, sir. No problem. We’ll make the necessary changes immediately so you can sign it.”

“No. I have a meeting I’m supposed to be in right now. Have her bring it to my office tomorrow morning.” He points at me.

All eyes turn toward me.

“Me?!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

I quickly place a hand over my mouth, biting down on my lip, suddenly wishing I could just disappear from this room.

Can this day get any worse?

“Em—okay, no problem. She’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning,” Festus assures him.

What a sly fox, I murmur under my breath, biting my lip harder until I can taste blood.

The next day, I wake up very early, take a hot bath, and immediately head for Sinclair Technologies. After all the warnings and threats Festus gave me yesterday, I’m not willing to end up on the streets of LA homeless.

“Good morning, ma’am. Please, I’m here to see Mr. Sinclair.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, yes, I do. It’s under Crest Technologies.”

“Okay, one second.”

She turns toward her computer and types something before going through the records. After confirming my appointment, she picks up the phone and places a call.

“Good morning, sir—”

Her eyes widen suddenly, and my own eyes narrow in confusion as she pulls the phone away from her mouth.

"Your name..."

"Ohh, Sophia."

“Sophia who?” she whispers, looking at me.

“Ashford. Ashford,” I quickly supply.

“Sophia Ashford from Crest Technologies, sir,” she says into the phone.

She listens for a moment before nodding.

“Okay, sir.”

She hangs up and turns her attention back to me.

“Mr. Sinclair’s office is on the eighth floor. You can take the elevator to the executive floor, and his assistant will be waiting for you.”

“Okay, thank you.”

I offer her a polite smile before walking toward the elevators.

***

The elevator dings as the doors slide open, and I step onto the eighth floor. The place is quite exquisite, with its polished floors, muted lighting, and carefully arranged furniture giving the entire space a timeless, expensive look.

“Good morning, Miss Ashford.”

I turn to find a man standing a few feet away from me.

“Good morning.”

“Please, follow me.”

I follow him down the hallway, and within seconds, we're standing inside Mr. Sinclair’s office.

He is seated on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone, but he immediately raises his head when he hears us enter.

“Thank you, Henry. You may leave,” Mr. Sinclair says.

Henry nods before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. Have your seat.”

I sit across from him, trying not to feel nervous.

“You requested that I bring the revised contract to you myself.”

“Oh, yes. I remember. Let me have it.”

I immediately pull the document from my bag and place it in his outstretched hand. He takes it, flips through the pages briefly, then picks up a pen from the container on the table and signs where indicated.

Thank God. At least my job is safe.

I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He closes the document and stretches it toward me.

A bright smile fills my face as I take it from him.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll take my leave now.”

“Not so fast, dear. I have a proposal for you.”

My smile disappears immediately.

“Me?”

My throat suddenly feels dry.

“Yes.”

He reaches for another document lying on the table and slides it toward me.

I stare at it for a moment before slowly reaching for it. I turn it over, open the cover, and begin reading the first page.

My eyes widen.

“This is a marriage contract?”

He nods. "Yes it is."