I spent the rest of the workday trying, and failing to breathe normally.
Every time I looked at the clock, my heart hammered harder.
Every time someone called my name, I flinched.
Every time Jamal's deep voice echoed down the hallway, my stomach twisted.
Come to my office at the end of the day. We're not done talking.
Why would he want to talk to me again?
I was a new intern. I was nobody. I was supposed to blend in, keep my head down, and work hard enough to keep the paychecks coming. Not… attract the CEO's attention.
Especially not his.
But life hadn't been giving me choices lately.
I tried to focus on the filing task Stella assigned me, but my hands kept shaking. Numbers blurred on the screen. My brain kept replaying that moment in the boardroom, when he had looked at me like he could see past everything I was trying to hide.
"Arata," Stella whispered, tapping my desk. "You okay? You've been staring at that document for five minutes."
"I'm fine," I lied quickly. "Just tired."
She gave me a sympathetic smile. "First day stress. Don't worry. You'll settle in."
I nodded, grateful. If only she knew the truth, that I was holding my life together with hope, thread, and prayer.
By 5:47 PM, the office was mostly empty. People signed out cheerfully, chatting about dinner plans, night outings, and Netflix. Meanwhile, I sat at my desk, frozen.
6:02 PM.
I stood.
My legs felt weak.
My palm was sweaty around my notebook.
The walk to Jamal's office felt like walking into a courtroom where the verdict could change your entire life.
His door was closed.
I stared at it for a second too long.
Then I knocked, very softly.
"Come in."
His voice. Deep. Calm. Absolute.
I pushed the door open.
He was standing by the window, the golden evening light highlighting his sharp jawline and broad shoulders. He looked unreal — like someone sculpted confidence and intensity into human form.
"Sit." He gestured to the chair opposite his desk.
I sat carefully, as if any sudden movement would crack the fragile bubble around us.
He returned to his seat and just… watched me for a moment.
Not in a creepy way.
Not in a bossy way.
More like he was trying to understand something I wasn't saying.
Then he spoke.
"You lied earlier."
My breath hitched. "Sir?"
"You told me everything was fine." His tone was gentle, not accusing. "It isn't."
My fingers curled tightly in my lap.
I stared at the floor.
"I don't want to pry," he continued. "But you're not just stressed. You're… scared."
I squeezed my eyes shut. Just for a second. Because he was right. And it hurt to hear it out loud.
"I can't afford to lose this job," I whispered.
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're not losing it."
I looked up, shocked. "But, the mistake at the job fair…"
"That was coffee," he said. "Not a felony."
A small, unwilling laugh escaped me. He raised a brow, almost amused.
"Arata." His voice softened. "What's going on?"
How could I explain it?
How could I tell him that my father's medical bills had eaten every naira we had?
That loan sharks had threatened us twice?
That my mother cried herself to sleep, thinking I didn't hear?
That I attended that job fair because every other option had dried up?
That I was drowning, slowly, painfully, and pretending I wasn't?
"I'm just… dealing with things," I said quietly.
"What kind of things?"
I hesitated.
If I told him, he might think I was being dramatic. Or irresponsible. Or unprofessional. Or desperate.
And desperate was the one thing I hated being.
"Personal things," I finally said. "I can handle them."
Jamal studied me again, deeply, intently, the way someone studies a puzzle they want to solve.
Then he said something I never expected.
"I want to help you."
My heart stopped.
Literally stopped.
"I… I don't need…." My voice cracked.
"Everyone needs help sometimes," he said. "Even me."
I blinked. Jamal Yusuf, billionaire CEO, needing help? That didn't sound real.
But he continued, his expression unreadable.
"I'm not offering pity. I'm offering a solution."
A chill ran through my body.
"A solution?" I echoed slowly.
"Yes." His gaze locked onto mine, steady and unflinching. "If I'm going to help you… I need something in return."
My stomach tightened.
He noticed my fear and shook his head slightly. "Not like that. Nothing inappropriate."
Relief flowed through me, warm and shaky.
"What do you need?" I whispered.
He took a breath.
Then said the words that would change my life:
"I need someone I can trust. For a role no one in this company can fill. And I want you."