The silence he had chosen was a living thing. It wasn't the oppressive quiet of the Dared compound, but a deliberate, hard-won peace. Each day that passed without answering the dozens of missed calls from HOME was a small victory. Each evening spent in the modest glow of their apartment, with Mina's head on his shoulder and Chosen's soft breaths from the bassinet, was a brick laid in the foundation of their new life.
But a foundation needed more than peace. It needed stone and mortar. It needed a future.
The stack of job applications on the rickety table had become his battlefield. Rejection after rejection—polite, impersonal emails that cited "overqualification" or a "shift in company needs"—were the enemy's arrows. Each one was a tiny puncture to the fragile balloon of his confidence. The corporate world had a long memory, and the story of Adams Dared—the fallen titan, the man who lost it all—was apparently more compelling than the resume of his past glories.
He was pouring over a particularly bleak financial spreadsheet one afternoon, the numbers a stark contrast to the sunlight trying to brave its way through their single window, when his burner phone buzzed.
It wasn't a number he recognized. Not a Dared number. This was a different prefix. A corporate line.
His heart gave a hesitant thud. Another rejection call? They usually just emailed.
He answered, his voice carefully neutral. "Adams Dared."
"Mr. Dared," a crisp, efficient female voice stated. It wasn't a question. "This is Habiba, executive assistant to Hajiya Dr. Aisha Sani, CEO of Ais_$ Co. Limited. The Hajiya has reviewed your application for the Communications Manager position and was… intrigued. She has a ten-minute window in her schedule tomorrow at 3:15 PM. Can you be available for a preliminary discussion?"
The world tilted. Ais_$ Co. wasn't just another company. It was a rising behemoth, a disruptive force in the tech and energy sectors known for its aggressive strategy and its notoriously formidable leader. Hajiya Dr. Aisha was a legend—a self-made billionaire who commanded fear and respect in equal measure. Sending an application there had been a Hail Mary, a shot in the dark from a man who had nothing left to lose.
Intrigued.
The word echoed in his mind. It wasn't "impressed." It wasn't "interested." It was intrigued. As if he were a curious specimen she'd found under a microscope.
"Yes," he said, his voice betraying none of the sudden, electric anxiety coursing through him. "Tomorrow at 3:15. I will be available. Thank you."
The line went dead. No pleasantries. No small talk. Just a transaction of time.
He lowered the phone, his hand trembling slightly.
"Adams?" Mina's voice was soft from the doorway. She was holding Chosen, her face etched with concern. "Who was that?"
He looked up at her, at the two people who were his entire world. He saw the hope warring with fear in her eyes. They couldn't survive on silence and defiance alone.
"Ais_$ Co.," he said, the name feeling foreign and weighty on his tongue. "They want to talk tomorrow."
Mina's eyes widened. She knew the name. Everyone did. "Dr. Aisha Sani's company? Adams, that's… that's huge."
"It's a call," he corrected, trying to temper the sudden, dangerous flare of hope in his own chest. "Ten minutes. She was 'intrigued'."
Mina moved into the room, a slow smile spreading across her face. It was the first real, unburdened smile he'd seen from her in weeks. "She should be. They'd be lucky to have you."
He wanted to believe her. But the ghost of his last boardroom, the sound of the chairman's voice declaring his position "no longer tenable," whispered otherwise. He was a risk. A damaged brand.
The next twenty-four hours were a peculiar form of torture. He prepared, not by rehearsing answers, but by steeling himself. He researched Hajiya Dr. Aisha relentlessly, learning her patterns, her reported likes and dislikes. She was a chess player in a world of checkers. She valued bluntness, innovation, and results. Flattery would be seen as weakness.
At 3:14 PM the next day, he sat at the small table, a notepad and pen before him, the burner phone on speaker. The apartment was preternaturally quiet. Mina had taken Chosen for a walk to a nearby park, giving him absolute silence. The absence of their presence felt louder than any noise.
At exactly 3:15, the phone rang.
He took a deep, centering breath and answered. "Adams Dared."
"Mr. Dared." The voice that came through the speaker was not that of the assistant. It was lower, calmer, and carried an immense, unshakeable authority. It was a voice that was used to being listened to. "This is Aisha Sani. You have nine minutes. Convince me why I should hire a man who has been publicly ground into the dust by the corporate machine he once commanded."
The air left his lungs. No greeting. No preamble. Just a direct, brutal strike to the jaw designed to knock him off balance. To see if he would flinch.
This was it. The test.
He could hear the old Adams, the proud, pre-accident Adams, bristling at the disrespect. That man would have failed this test instantly.
The new Adams, the one who had changed diapers on a floor and faced down his mother's fury, simply nodded to the empty room.
"Because, Hajiya Doctor," he said, his voice calm and devoid of ego, "a man who has been ground down knows the texture of the wheel. He knows what it takes to not only run the machine but to rebuild it when it breaks. You're not hiring my past reputation. You're hiring my present understanding. And I understand failure, recovery, and the relentless pursuit of a comeback better than any polished executive who's never had his leg shattered and his life dismantled."
There was a beat of silence on the other end. A terrible, endless beat. He could almost feel her weighing his words, dissecting his tone for any hint of self-pity or arrogance.
"Your 'present understanding' is a liability," her voice came back, cool and analytical. "The business world sees a fallen king. They don't see a rebuild. They see a ruin."
"Then let them see a ruin," Adams countered, a spark of his old strategic fire igniting within him. "It's the perfect camouflage. They'll be looking for my stumble, not your company's next strategic leap. My perceived weakness is your tactical advantage. Use it."
Another silence. This one felt different. Lighter.
"Seven minutes," she said, but the edge in her voice had softened into something more like curiosity. "The landmark deal with Sharon Holdings. The unincorporated joint venture model. It was reckless. Brilliant, but reckless. Walk me through the risk calculus."
And just like that, they were off. It was no longer an interrogation. It was a duel of minds. He spoke, and she listened, interjecting with sharp, insightful questions that proved she hadn't just read about his work; she had studied it. She understood its genius and its flaws better than his own board had.
He forgot he was in a shabby apartment. He forgot he was on a cheap phone. He was back in his element, his mind firing on all cylinders, talking strategy, mitigation, and vision.
"Time's up, Mr. Dared," her voice cut in, precisely at the nine-minute mark.
He stopped mid-sentence. The sudden end was like a bucket of cold water. He had no idea if he had passed or failed. He had been so engrossed in the intellectual sparring that he'd forgotten the objective.
"Thank you for the opportunity, Hajiya Doctor," he said, his professional mask snapping back into place.
"My assistant will be in touch," was all she said. The line went dead.
He sat there for a long time, the silence of the apartment rushing back in. The adrenaline faded, leaving him drained and utterly uncertain.
The front door opened. Mina came in, Chosen asleep in his carrier on her chest. Her eyes were wide, full of silent questions.
He looked at her, trying to form the words to describe the last nine minutes.
Before he could speak, the burner phone buzzed on the table.
A text message. From the same corporate number.
Report to Tower A, 25th floor, tomorrow at 8 AM. Ask for Habiba. Do not be late. - AS
He read the message once. Then again. He handed the phone to Mina, his hand steady now.
She read it, her lips moving soundlessly over the words. She looked up at him, and her eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were tears of triumph.
He hadn't just secured a job.
He had secured a beachhead. A foothold on their future. The new beginning wasn't just a hope anymore.
It had a time and a place.