Kian Silver's POV
By the end of my third day working for Evan Leigh, I had reached a conclusion.
The man was insane.
Not normal rich-person insane.
Not arrogant CEO insane.
A completely different breed of insane.
Because there was absolutely no logical explanation for why one of the most powerful businessmen in the country had hired a hacker...
...to make coffee.
I stared at the steaming cup in my hands.
Then at Evan.
Then back at the coffee.
Then back at Evan.
"Too hot."
My eye twitched.
"You haven't even touched it."
"I can feel it."
"You can feel it."
"Yes."
I looked toward the ceiling.
Grandma.
If you're listening...
Please give me strength.
Or bail money.
Either works.
I turned around and headed back toward the coffee machine.
Behind me, I heard Evan's amused voice.
"Make it slightly less hot this time."
I hated him.
I genuinely hated him.
Ten minutes later.
"Too cold."
Seven minutes later.
"Too sweet."
Five minutes later.
"Not sweet enough."
Three minutes later.
"Perfect."
I froze.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
I looked up.
Evan was drinking it.
Actually drinking it.
A dangerous smile spread across his face.
The bastard.
The previous cups had been fine.
He was doing this on purpose.
I knew it.
He knew I knew it.
And somehow that made him happier.
The worst part?
He wasn't even giving me real work.
No hacking.
No cyber security.
No investigations.
Nothing.
I spent the rest of the morning carrying files behind him while he attended meetings.
Every executive treated him like some untouchable emperor.
Meanwhile the emperor was busy asking me ridiculous questions.
"Kian."
"What?"
"If you had to choose between fighting a bear or a shark."
"What?"
"Answer."
"I wouldn't fight either."
"Coward."
I stared.
Evan looked completely serious.
I began questioning every life decision that had brought me here.
Diamant Reed's POV
The conference room fell silent.
Good.
Silence meant people were listening.
Or afraid.
Usually both.
I stood at the head of the table while the presentation behind me displayed the final blueprint for the hotel project in Country B.
It was magnificent.
A structure designed to redefine luxury itself.
Sky gardens.
Private islands.
Floating restaurants.
An architectural statement that would dominate the entire region.
The investors had spent the last hour praising it.
Admiring it.
Trying to secure a percentage of ownership.
Then one of them made the mistake of speaking.
"I believe some adjustments should be made to the exterior design."
The room immediately became quieter.
I looked at him.
He shifted slightly in his chair.
Good.
At least his instincts worked.
"What kind of adjustments?" I asked.
The investor cleared his throat.
"Well... perhaps something more traditional. Less ambitious. Less expensive."
Several people immediately looked away.
Nobody wanted to be associated with this conversation.
I slowly closed the folder in front of me.
Then leaned back in my chair.
"You don't like the design?"
The investor hesitated.
"That's not what I-"
"Then what exactly are you saying?"
The man visibly swallowed.
I stood.
The movement alone was enough to make several executives straighten in their seats.
"If you don't like what you see," I said calmly, "you don't have to invest."
Silence.
The investor looked uncomfortable.
I continued.
"Before we proceed any further, let me remind everyone in this room of something."
My gaze swept across the table.
Every person immediately paid attention.
"I don't need your money."
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
"You saw my project."
I took a step forward.
"You liked my project."
Another step.
"You requested this meeting."
Another.
"You begged for the opportunity to invest."
The room became suffocatingly quiet.
"And I permitted it."
The investor's face had gone pale.
I stopped walking.
"Therefore..."
My voice lowered.
"Do not mistake my permission for dependence."
The room froze.
"If you think you can sit in my meeting and tell me how to run my business..."
I smiled.
A very dangerous smile.
"The door is right there."
Nobody breathed.
"Leave."
His voice remained calm, which somehow made it worse.
"I'm giving you the opportunity to walk out of here on your own two feet. Don't make me regret that generosity. It's already more mercy than you've earned."
The investor looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him.
Nobody defended him.
Nobody agreed with him.
Because everyone in the room knew the truth.
Reed Enterprises wasn't asking for investors.
The investors were asking for Reed Enterprises.
There was a difference.
A very important difference.
My phone vibrated.
I ignored it.
The meeting continued.
Thirty seconds later it vibrated again.
Ignored.
Again.
Ignored.
Again.
My patience began dying.
I finally glanced down.
Evan.
Of course.
A message appeared.
Evan: Important question.
I ignored it.
Another appeared.
Evan: If Noah turned into a pigeon would you still love him?
I closed my eyes.
Another message.
Evan: Personally I think he'd be a very cute pigeon.
Another.
Evan: Answer quickly.
Another.
Evan: This is urgent.
I stared at the screen.
Then typed.
Get a job.
A response arrived instantly.
I own multiple companies.
Another.
Answer the pigeon question.
I locked my phone.
Before I flew across the country and strangled him myself.
The meeting concluded shortly afterward.
Every investor signed.
Every investor smiled.
Even the one I nearly threw out.
As I exited the conference room, my phone buzzed again.
One new message.
I opened it.
Evan: Hypothetically speaking, if Noah became a pigeon and sat on your shoulder during meetings, would he still get employee benefits?
I stared at the screen.
Long.
Hard.
Then sighed.
Somewhere in the city, Evan Leigh was clearly causing problems.
I didn't know what problems.
I didn't want to know what problems.
But after knowing him since childhood...
I pitied whoever had become the target of his attention.
Because when Evan Leigh found something interesting...
He rarely let it go.