The soft glow of early evening seeped through the large windows of the SMG Conglomerate boardroom, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany table. Agnes Lewis sat with her back straight, hands folded on her lap, though her mind was a thousand miles away.
Her phone lay face down beside her—a silent promise of disruption.
The meeting had just ended, and her father's executive team had begun filing out, their whispered speculation lingering like smoke in the air.
Smith Lewis, stern as ever, finally addressed her quietly.
"Agnes," he said, voice low but commanding. "There's an opportunity you need to consider. The Geneva Office has extended an offer for you to lead their strategic division. It's prestigious. It's a step toward the legacy we envision."
Agnes swallowed. Geneva.
The word hung heavy like a loaded gun. An escape. A punishment. A chance.
She looked up, meeting her father's expectant gaze. "Geneva is... far."
"Far enough to test your commitment," he said bluntly. "And close enough to shape the future."
Her pulse quickened—not because of excitement, but fear. A fear that had nested deep in her heart ever since the shooting, since the world had shifted beneath her feet.
Majek's face flashed before her eyes—those gentle, knowing eyes that had quietly anchored her through the storm.
Could she leave him behind?
Later that evening — Agnes's Apartment
The walls were lined with framed photos of business galas, smiling faces, and corporate victories, but Agnes barely noticed them anymore. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the email again.
"Dear Ms. Lewis, it is with great pleasure that we extend an offer for you to lead the Geneva division of our international conglomerate..."
The letter was impeccable—an irresistible invitation and an unspoken challenge.
Her phone buzzed, a message from Majek.
"Can we talk? I'm at the café on 5th. Usual spot."
Agnes hesitated, then grabbed her coat.
Café on 5th Avenue — The Meeting
Majek was already seated when she arrived, the same worn leather chair that had become their unofficial sanctuary.
"Geneva," he said before she could sit. "That's big."
She nodded, sitting down slowly. "It's a chance. To rebuild. To be free."
Majek looked down, fingers fiddling with his cup. "Free from what?"
"From expectations," Agnes whispered. "From promises I didn't make."
Majek's gaze lifted, soft and steady. "And from me?"
She bit her lip, caught off guard by the question.
"You know I want you to stay," he said. "But if this is your dream—your chance—you have to take it."
Agnes shook her head. "It's not that simple. I don't want to run away... but I'm scared."
"Scared of what?" Majek leaned in, voice low.
"Of loving when you don't know if the other person will be there when you come back."
The truth spilled between them like a fragile flame.
Majek took her hand, their fingers intertwining naturally. "Agnes, I'm no hero. I'm scared too. Scared I'm not enough. But if we don't try—if we don't fight for this—we'll always wonder."
She searched his eyes, finding the courage she needed.
The Offer's Weight
The next day, Agnes sat alone in her office, staring at the framed photo of her late mother.
She remembered the lullabies, the whispered dreams of freedom, and the sacrifice it took to claim a life of her own.
A soft knock on the door pulled her from the memory.
"Ms. Lewis?"
It was Lami—her fiancé in name only. His smile was sharp, calculating.
"I hear about Geneva," he said smoothly. "Big step. For someone who's supposed to marry me."
Agnes's chest tightened. "You don't get to decide my future."
Lami's smirk faded. "Maybe not. But I control enough of your present."
His words were poison, but Agnes felt something else rising—a fire inside that refused to be snuffed out.
Majek's Resolve
Meanwhile, Majek sat in his cramped apartment, the walls closing in. The legal threats, the veiled warnings—they all painted a grim picture.
But beneath the fear, a quiet flame burned.
He pulled out his old notebook—the one he had scribbled dreams in before the world demanded silence.
"Enough," he whispered. "No more running."
He dialed a number.
"Hello, this is Majek Goriola. I want to talk about my future. And hers."
The Crossroads
That night, Agnes packed a small suitcase, her hands steady despite the storm inside her.
Majek arrived, watching silently.
"Geneva's not just a job," she said, looking at him. "It's a chance for me to find who I am beyond this family, beyond promises."
Majek nodded. "And I want to be part of that journey."
She smiled, tears threatening to fall. "Even if it means risking everything?"
"Even then," Majek said softly.
They stood in the quiet apartment, two hearts on fire—scared, uncertain, but willing to face whatever came next.
The phone rang again.
Majek answered.
"Don't make a move," the voice warned. "Not yet."
The line went dead.
Majek's eyes darkened.
"Whatever this is," he said, turning to Agnes, "we're in it together."
Agnes nodded, courage blooming like a wildfire.