[ZEN]
"Just you wait," Zen grumbled, the cleaning cloth in his hand moving in tight circles. "I will never save you again, young master. I was just there for your safety, and I've saved you countless tis before . . . but this is how you repay ?"
He paused for a mont to wipe his brow, his frustration mounting. "Just because of
that girl
, you've forgotten all my hard work and loyalty. It's not my fault I showed up early. I was just worried about you! Who would've thought you two would be . . . well, doing
miracles
in there!"
"Zen! Clean the other toilets after you're finished!" Cole's voice ca from down the hallway, cutting through Zen's muttering like a splash of cold water.
Zen's eyes snapped open, his body jerking instinctively as if the command had flipped a switch in him. He straightened up and, without missing a beat, he responded in his usual overly polite tone, "Yes, young Master Cole!"
His voice was syrupy sweet, almost as if he were too happy to be cleaning every toilet in the mansion just to fulfill his monthly punishnt.
It was automatic at this point—Zen couldn't help it. The man was a walking professional when it ca to his duties, even if his
duties
now included scrubbing toilets with the precision of soone facing the most important mission of their life.
If there were one thing Zen had learned over the last few days, it was that his pride was a casualty of Cole's sense of humor. Every task, no matter how ridiculous, was an opportunity for Cole to remind him who was boss.
And Zen? Well, he was stuck here, in this absurd role, because he had done the one thing every bodyguard swore to never do: arrive
too early.
Zen shook his head, snorting under his breath. "I should've just let him handle himself for once . . . but nooo, I had to be the responsible one. Can't believe this is my life now. Cleaning toilets and wondering if Cole's ever going to stop making pay for that ten-minute slip-up."
With a dramatic sigh, he grabbed his bucket of cleaning supplies and headed out toward the next bathroom.
He'd made a promise to himself that once this month was over, he would be
fashionably Stay connected through empire
late the next ti Cole tried to do anything romantic. Just for a little payback.
So, Zen carried on, running errands, finding himself more and more like an overworked butler than a bodyguard.
=== 🤍 ===
[EVE]
The weekend was supposed to be my rest day, but instead, I decided to visit Michael and check on the progress of the nanotech project.
I knew it was too soon to expect any groundbreaking advancents. The technology had just started curing animals, and human trials were still far off.
But I figured it wouldn't hurt to drop by—if only to remind myself that progress was being made, even if it was slow.
It had been a while since I last visited Michael. In my defense, between being in the hospital, cramming for exams, and dealing with my own schedule, I hadn't had the chance.
Besides, Michael was probably too busy to notice my absence. Not that I could be much help in the lab anyway. Nanotechnology wasn't exactly my area of expertise.
I was just the investor—technically, the one who owned 70% of the company. It felt unfair, honestly. Michael had poured his life into this project, tirelessly researching and developing the technology.
Originally, we were supposed to split the shares evenly, 50/50. But Michael, being Michael, transferred an additional 20% to , claiming he didn't care about the money and wanted to handle the etings and financial side of things. That way, he could focus on the research.
Not that he was entirely spared from the corporate grind—he was still the head engineer and had his share of responsibilities during etings.
He was even the CEO of QuantumLyfe.
The office was still under construction, so we'd rented a space in a high-rise downtown. Holding etings at the lab wasn't exactly professional, after all.
When I arrived, I went straight to the reception desk to check Michael's schedule. I had already texted him about my visit, but he hadn't responded, which probably ant he was in a eting.
Still, I wanted to see if he could squeeze in. My visit wasn't urgent, but I needed updates and had a few papers to sign.
As I walked into the lobby, I spotted Sullivan lounging on one of the plush chairs like he owned the place.
Great.
The mont his eyes landed on , he smirked and sat up straighter. "Eve, what are you doing here?"
I matched his smirk with a polite smile. "To see Michael Blair, of course."
At that, Sullivan let out a sharp laugh, drawing the attention of the n sitting around him. "You? See him?" His tone dripped with mockery as he leaned back, gesturing lazily. "What for? Got a school project you need his help with?"
His companions chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. Sullivan's smirk widened, encouraged by the response.
I could feel the heat rising, but I held my ground. "Actually, I'm here for a business update. You know, the kind that investors usually get?"
His smirk faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Investors?" he repeated, as though I'd just told the most ridiculous joke. "Listen, kid, Michael's a busy man. He doesn't have ti to entertain—what's the word?—curiosity visits."
"That's right," another man chid in, grinning. "You should head ho. Let the grown-ups handle the business world."
"We've been waiting for weeks just to get a eting with him. You think you can just waltz in here and—"
"Actually," I cut him off, my tone cool and deliberate, "I can."
Of course, they didn't believe . To them, I was just a kid—soone barely out of high school, with "milk still on her lips," as the saying goes. anwhile, they were grown n in their forties, seasoned with decades of so-called "experience."
Not that their skepticism bothered . I'd long since grown used to the condescending looks and dismissive attitudes from everyone in the business world. My age was always the first thing people saw, and their doubt was almost predictable by now.
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