Jay's POV
The elevator doors opened to the familiar hum of SE Corp headquarters. I stepped out, heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors. The office was waking up — assistants scurrying, emails pinging, the low murmur of productivity filling the air.
I had built SE Corp to be precise, efficient, and powerful — a machine that moved in perfect synchronization. But the engine that kept it running wasn't just the systems or the numbers. It was people. Two people, in particular, who had become more than employees — Coel and Samy.
Coel was already waiting near the main office entrance, a tablet in his hands and that calm, unflappable expression I'd come to rely on.
"Morning, boss," he said, nodding slightly.
"Morning," I replied, taking the few steps toward him. He had the uncanny ability to notice everything and say very little — a rare combination of intelligence and restraint.
"Your calendar's updated. Investors meeting, board presentations, media calls. All your usual chaos," he said, tilting the tablet toward me.
I smirked. "Sounds like Tuesday."
Coel raised an eyebrow. "Every day feels like Tuesday when you run the show."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "And yet somehow, we survive."
"Barely," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
There was a rhythm to our mornings, an unspoken understanding. Coel knew exactly how I operated, when to speak and when to step back. Over the years, he had become my anchor in a city that never slept, a partner in strategy, and a friend I could trust with everything — except the past. That part, I still carried alone.
As I walked toward my office, Samy appeared from around the corner, balancing a stack of folders and two cups of coffee.
"Good morning, Jay!" she chirped, her voice bright enough to cut through any tension.
I raised an eyebrow. "Morning, Samy. That's a lot of folders for someone who's supposed to be just assisting me."
She grinned, setting the folders down on my desk. "Someone has to keep the empire running. Besides, I like to think of myself as your secret weapon."
I arched a brow. "Secret weapon, huh?"
"Yes!" she said, leaning casually against the edge of my desk. "I manage to stay cheerful while you scare the rest of the city into submission."
I laughed, a genuine sound this time, though fleeting. Her energy was infectious — a reminder that not everything in my world had to be heavy, cold, and calculated.
"Coffee?" she asked, handing me the cup.
I took it, savoring the warmth. "Thanks. Black, no sugar," I reminded her.
"I know. I've got your routine memorized," she said proudly.
Even in the smallest details, Samy knew me. And I liked it. It was rare to find someone who observed without judging, who understood without questions.
The morning passed in the usual rhythm: meetings, updates, and strategic calls. Coel and Samy worked seamlessly with me, each anticipating the next move before I even spoke.
At 10:30, Coel stopped me just outside the executive elevator. "Boss, before the investors arrive, I want to brief you on the new internal audit."
I nodded, walking with him toward a private conference room. "Go ahead."
As he outlined the numbers, his calm voice cut through the chaos in my mind. I appreciated precision, but I also appreciated his intuition — the way he could see not just what the numbers said, but what they meant.
Samy joined us shortly, balancing a tablet and a folder of reports. "Jay, I double-checked all the projections. Nothing's off. You're safe," she said with a wink.
"Safe?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Safe from chaos, from mistakes… maybe even from a small heart attack from stress," she added, smiling.
I shook my head, amused despite myself. "Thank you. I think."
They shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment of their shared loyalty to me — a loyalty that had nothing to do with salary or hierarchy. Both of them had been by my side through the growth of SE Corp, through the battles with competitors, and, though they didn't know it, through the ghosts I carried from Section E.
By 11:00, the investors had arrived. I followed Coel and Samy to the conference room, calm and collected, the way I always appeared. Inside, I scanned the room — potential allies, potential threats, numbers on faces. But I was most aware of the two people I trusted implicitly.
"Everything ready?" I asked, eyes on Coel.
"All set," he replied.
Samy handed me a tablet with the finalized presentation. "You'll impress them, Jay. Always do," she said softly.
I smiled faintly, touched by her confidence in me. "Thank you," I said, meeting her gaze for just a moment before stepping into the boardroom.
The meeting went flawlessly, as it always did when Coel and Samy were in sync with me. Charts were presented, questions answered, negotiations handled with precision. Yet beneath the polished exterior, I felt the tremors of a memory I had worked so hard to bury.
After the meeting, Samy approached me in my office. "Jay… can I ask you something?"
I looked up from my laptop. "Go ahead."
She hesitated. "How did you… how did you get so strong? So… unstoppable?"
I studied her, curious. She wasn't just asking about business. She was asking about life — about me.
"Strength isn't something you're born with," I said carefully. "It's earned. Every fight, every failure, every heartbreak — it builds you. You survive because you have no other choice. You succeed because failure isn't an option."
Samy nodded, absorbing my words. "And… does it ever get easier?"
I thought of Section E, of the girl who had cried and hoped and loved. "No. Not really. But you learn to carry it better."
Her eyes softened. "I'm glad I get to carry it with you."
For a moment, the weight of my world seemed lighter, shared with someone who understood, even without knowing the whole story.
That evening, I trained again in my condo gym. Coel had left a message checking on me; Samy had called to remind me to eat. Their concern was subtle, never overbearing, but it grounded me. Even the most powerful people need anchors.
I lifted weights, ran drills, and practiced combat routines. The motions were mechanical, but my mind wandered — to memories of Section E, to the boy who had once promised me forever.
I shook my head. Not tonight.
But even as I trained, I knew the world I'd built in New York was about to collide with the past I had tried to leave behind.
And when it did, Coel and Samy would be the only constants I could rely on.
The next morning, Coel and Samy joined me for the daily briefing. Their presence was reassuring, a silent reminder that no matter what ghosts returned from the past, I wasn't entirely alone.
"Boss," Coel began, "I've finalized the strategy for the new branch expansion. Investors are on board, and your approval is the last step."
"Good work," I said, flipping through the documents. "Everything looks in order. Samy?"
"Checked it twice," she replied confidently. "Nothing's off. You can run the meeting without worrying about surprises."
I nodded. "Excellent."
They both smiled, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of leadership felt lighter. The city outside might be relentless, the investors demanding, and the past threatening, but here, in this room, I was not alone.
"Thank you," I said quietly, more to myself than to them.
"You don't need to thank us," Samy said softly. "We're here because we trust you. And because you've earned it."
Her words struck a chord. Loyalty, trust, friendship — the very things I had feared losing back in Section E.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the day ahead. Investors, contracts, the endless march of work. But beneath it all, I carried the quiet comfort of knowing that no matter what, some bonds were unbreakable.
Coel and Samy weren't just my employees. They were my allies. My friends. My family in this city that never slept.
And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to feel… safe.
Even if just for a moment.