To build a true powerhouse in the world of nanotech, QuantumLyfe couldn't just scrape by—it needed to tower over its competitors. We needed a bigger building, cutting-edge research facilities, and resources that would dwarf even our boldest dreams.
A billion dollars was an incredible start, but deep down, I knew it was only a drop in the ocean. Sinclair's investnt was the opening shot, the first wave.
As soon as we launched, there would be no stopping us. Investors would flock to our door, seeing the undeniable proof of our success.
QuantumLyfe wouldn't just be another tech company—it would be
the
na in nanotechnology, the face of a revolution that would redefine science, dicine, and even life itself.
And I was ready to ride that wave straight to the top.
It wasn't just a random act of generosity—it was a calculated move, a bold decision based on what he had just witnessed.
Michael had proven sothing extraordinary today. His nanotechnology had saved a life, and not just any life—Sebastian, the dog that was practically Sinclair's only remaining family after the passing of his wife. No offense to his children.
Anyone with half a brain could see the potential. If Michael's technology could save a dying animal, what could it do for people? The investnt wasn't reckless—it was a first step into a future that could change everything.
"Grandpa, don't you want to wait until Sebastian fully recovers before you make such a huge investnt?" I teased, though I knew the answer.
Sinclair didn't even glance at . His eyes were still locked on the building as if he could already see the future unfolding in front of him. "You've invested in this place, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low but serious.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah," I admitted, tilting my head. "But are you basing your decision just on that? My investnt?"
Sinclair finally turned his eyes back to , and for the first ti, I saw sothing different in them—a kind of trust, a belief in sothing beyond money and power.
"I know what you've been doing these past few months," he said quietly, his words filled with aning. "I know you've got good instincts. I trust you."
I was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. Sinclair, the man who was as ruthless in business as he was affectionate with his dog, was trusting —my judgnt, my choices.
I chuckled softly, trying to mask the sudden warmth in my chest. "Are you sure it's not just so whimsical teenage girl trying to play investor?" I teased, though my voice was gentler this ti.
Sinclair's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "Even if it was, I wouldn't bet against you."
He said it so matter-of-factly, but it hit hard. For a man who ruled his empire with an iron will, this mont—this bond we were forming—felt like a shift in both of us.
I could feel the weight of his words settling into sothing deeper. For the first ti, we weren't just strangers connected with mutual benefits; we were allies in sothing bigger.
"By the way," I grinned, trying to keep my tone casual. "If you're planning to invest in this, you might want your money back. I've already amassed the amount we agreed on ahead of ti."
I expected relief, maybe even joy from Sinclair, but his expression was anything but. No smile of satisfaction crossed his face, no glimr of relief for not having been scamd. Instead, there was sothing else—sothing like . . . disappointnt? Sadness, even.
"What's this?" I chuckled, feeling a little uneasy. "Aren't you glad I didn't run off with the ten million? I've returned it, along with that 990 million interest you were so worried about. Plus, I think that extra billion you're about to invest here will make up for it."
Sinclair took a deep breath, his gaze on . "In truth," he began, his tone serious, "I didn't believe for a second that you would return that huge amount of money in such a short ti."
I folded my arms, eyebrows raised. "What, you doubted my capabilities?" I jabbed, trying to keep the mont light.
He smirked slightly. "Who would believe a teenager's word? You had no remarkable talents in investnts before."
I narrowed my eyes. "So why did you lend the money if you knew there was a risk?"
"Call it intuition," Sinclair said, his eyes studying , "and curiosity. Like you said, ten million is just spare change to , compared to the amusent you would bring in earning that large sum of money."
I rolled my eyes, feeling a strange warmth building inside. "Well, now that we're here, I'll transfer the money back to you. Then our deal will be sealed, and I'll finally be free."
But Sinclair didn't look relieved. He didn't even look interested. In fact, there was a clear reluctance in his expression. "What's the rush?" he asked, his voice laced with sothing I couldn't quite place. "Are you that eager to cut ties with our family?"
I paused, caught off guard by the disappointnt I heard in his voice. "I'm not really your granddaughter, Sinclair. I don't belong here. I'm just an orphan you picked up sowhere, and I think I've already sacrificed enough for your family. Now, I want my freedom. Besides," I added with a bitter smile, "I'm sure Sullivan and Sophia will be glad to see gone before Sophie's grand eighteenth birthday."
Sinclair didn't respond. He just looked at , his silence heavy, almost accusing.
I didn't understand why he was hesitating. This was the perfect opportunity to settle everything and walk away clean. "Look," I said, trying to break the tension, "I hope you'll stick to the end of our deal. I've gone through too much trouble to gather this much money."
Sinclair scoffed, a cold smirk forming on his lips. "I may be many things, but I've never backed out of a deal."
"Good," I said, relieved, and quickly logged into my account.
But as the screen loaded, my heart plumted. The balance that should have shown a billion, hard-earned money, ticulously accumulated over months, was gone.
All of it.
A single, glaring number stared back at —$0.74.
My hands went cold. My pulse quickened, the world narrowing into that unforgiving screen. Had I been hacked? Stolen from? My thoughts spiraled, blood rushing to my head so fast it made everything throb. I blinked, hoping it was so kind of error. This couldn't be real.
It *
couldn't
be real.
Sinclair's voice beca a muffled hum. I could hear Victor too, but everything felt far away, as if I was underwater.
"Eve?" Sinclair's voice broke through the haze, but I couldn't focus.
"Eve, what's wrong?"
My vision blurred, and my head pounded, each throb more painful than the last.
"Eve!" Michael's voice shot through, sharp with concern. "What's happening?!"
But before I could answer, everything went black, and the world vanished beneath .
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|| A/N ||
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