DAVIS'S POV
"…But we can't get a patent on this medicine. What will we do if another company uses these formulas?" I asked, leaning slightly forward, unable to hide the concern in my voice.
Keifer—no, Ms. Samuel—didn't flinch.
"Look, these medicine formulas already exist in ancient medicinal practices," she replied, her voice calm and steady, "but what differentiates them is the method. I've developed a process that reduces production costs and increases the effectiveness of the compounds. That's our edge."
I studied her as she spoke. The confidence, the quiet fire in her eyes—it was rare.
"Hmm. I see," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"We just have to patent the method," she added quickly, "so no one else can use the same process."
That drew a smile from me.
Smart. Strategic. She didn't chase ownership of the idea—she protected the innovation within it. There was vision in that.
"Okay, Ms. Samuel. The deal is done. You have my word." I extended my hand. "Now we just need to organize a press conference and announce it."
Our eyes locked again.
There was something about her gaze—composed, but unreadable. Like she was balancing a thousand thoughts just under the surface. But in that moment, she wasn't just a medical scholar or a passionate entrepreneur—she was something more. A mystery waiting to unfold.
She hesitated.
Was it surprise? Doubt? I couldn't tell.
"Ms. Samuel?" I prompted softly.
She blinked and came back to the moment. "No, Mr. White. I appreciate your trust in me."
Our hands met.
Firm. Measured. Electric.
And for the briefest second—I didn't want to let go.
But as she pulled away, her gaze lingered.
Then came the hesitation again. Her brows drew together, not in confusion, but calculation. Like she was holding something back.
"Mr. White, I have one more request to make," she said, voice quieter this time, tinged with something between fear and steel.
I leaned forward, focusing all my attention on her. "Feel free to say it."
And then her eyes locked with mine.
Deep blue. Unblinking.
I was drowning and didn't mind one bit.
She took a breath. "I want to keep my details a secret."
My brows lifted. "May I ask why?"
She looked down for a second. Then back at me, with something heavy behind her words. "I have some unfinished business here."
The shift in her tone told me more than she intended. She wasn't just hiding. She was preparing for something.
A reckoning.
Who are you, really? I wondered.
She continued, "You can use Nakia Oliver as your partner's name. From today onward, that name will represent me."
Nakia Oliver.
A name drenched in intent.
"Interesting," I mused, leaning back again. "Your new name tells me you're here for some kind of revenge. Nakia means revenge, and Oliver means army. It suits you."
She didn't deny it. Didn't even blink.
Instead, she said coolly, "Mr. White, you'll be the face of the company. I don't think other things matter to anyone."
Very well said, Ms. Oliver.
The edge of pain in her voice didn't escape me. Neither did the fire beneath it. Something personal was fueling this venture. And I wanted to know what it was.
"Thank you, Mr. White, for understanding," she said, standing. "If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
But before she could step away, I said, "One minute. Miss, can I also ask for a favor?"
She looked at me, confused. "Yes, Mr. White. If it's in my hand, I'll surely help you."
I smiled, feeling something light for the first time in days. "Believe me, Miss—only you can help me."
She tilted her head.
"Can you… call me Davis?" I said with a smirk. "When you say 'Mr. White,' I feel like I've aged ten years."
There was a beat of silence—then she laughed.
A real laugh.
The kind that caught me off guard and settled in my chest.
"Hi. My name is Nakia Oliver," she said, introducing herself with that new identity, voice full of weight and determination. "We're going to be partners in the coming future."
I looked right into her eyes. "Hello, Nakia. You can call me Davis… or, if you like, we can be partners forever."
I said it before I could stop myself.
And as the words left my mouth, I surprised even myself.
But I didn't regret them.
She stared at me, stunned. And for a moment, I thought maybe I'd gone too far.
But she only said, "Nice to meet you, Davis," and walked out.
---
The door closed behind her. And something left the room with her.
I stood still for a second—processing everything.
Nakia Oliver.
She was unlike anyone I'd ever met. She didn't want fame, or even her name on the board. She came not to build a legacy—but to settle a score.
Why?
What was she running from—or running toward?
I turned to the window and stared out at the city skyline. The sun was dipping low now, bleeding gold through the tall glass. But my mind was still caught in the moment she looked at me, hesitant but sure.
And those eyes…
Blue like the sky before a storm.
I could see a hundred futures in those eyes. One of them… might be mine.
"PA Pattinson," I said, without turning around.
"Yes, sir?" came the soft reply from outside.
"I want everything on her. Background, education, relatives. Especially anything connecting her to the Samuel family."
"Of course, Mr. White. Immediately."
"Make it discreet."
He nodded and disappeared down the hallway.
Back at the window, I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes.
I remembered the way she smiled despite everything. The way she held her ground. The pain she didn't show—but couldn't hide from someone who was paying attention.
And I was paying attention.
That woman was a storm in disguise.
And I—I wanted to know the story behind every thunderclap she carried.
More than that—I promised myself right then and there:
I would protect her.
And maybe… if fate allowed…
I would make her mine.