Sarah stepped into the sleek, glass-lined office after a gentle knock. Daniel stood by the window, hands clasped behind him, the city skyline casting reflections against his navy-blue suit.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Lewis?"
Daniel turned toward her with a brief nod. "Yes. Sit down."
She obeyed, crossing her legs, pen and notepad in hand.
"I need you to contact Legal," he began without preamble. "Have them draw up a short-term consultancy contract. Confidential, under limited disclosure. I want it done today."
Her pen paused mid-scribble. "A consultancy contract? May I ask what for?"
He moved to his desk, eyes on the file he was reviewing. "It's internal. The consultant will be reporting directly to me."
Her brow twitched. "Should I notify HR?"
"No. Just Legal. This is being handled quietly."
Sarah tilted her head slightly. "And… who's the consultant?"
Daniel didn't look up. "That's not your concern."
Her lips parted, then closed again. It was rare for Mr Lewis to withhold information from her, she was supposed to be his right hand. His most trusted, after all her three years of services, that much had been establish.
At least that what's she thought.
So why the sudden secrecy?
Her voice softened. "Is this someone joining your executive team?"
"No."
"An external specialist?"
His gaze lifted to hers. "Mis Williams ."
She straightened. "Right. Of course. I'll call Legal."
As she stood to leave, something inside her burned to push a little further. "So… should I prepare an assistant's badge for her?"
Daniel's head tilted slightly, a signal that she'd pushed far enough. "Just have Thomas arrange a visitor pass. That'll do for now."
Her fingers clenched around the notepad. So it is a woman.
She forced a smile. "Very well."
Turning on her heel, she walked out of the office, but inside, her thoughts raced. Daniel had never been this evasive with her. And if another woman was about to take up space in his world, whether personal or professional, she needed to know exactly who she was dealing with.
And why she was being kept in the dark.
It was eight in the evening, the soft click of the front door echoed through the spacious Lewis mansion.
Esther, seated at the dining table, gently closed her textbook. She could always tell when Daniel Lewis returned home, not by sound, but by the shift in the atmosphere. Even Betty, sitting quietly with her coloring book, looked up.
The home butler appeared a few moments later, removing Daniel's coat. Daniel's features looked unreadable, tired but alert. His eyes scanned the living room until they landed on Esther.
"Mis Cole," he said quietly, "Could I see you in my study in an hour?"
She nodded. "Yes, of course."
Without another word, he disappeared up the stairs.
Esther's stomach twisted. Had she done something wrong? Or was this about Betty?
Her mind buzzed with possibilities. Betty had been improving steadily… surely this wasn't about that.
She helped Betty to bed early, tucked her in with a soft kiss on the forehead, and changed into a modest blouse and jeans before heading to Daniel's study.
The study was warm and richly furnished, yet carried a certain coldness, like a space that was used more for strategy than comfort. Daniel sat behind his desk, his expression distant, deep in thought. A decanter of scotch sat unopened at the edge of the table.
As Esther stepped in, he gestured toward the seat across from him. "Please."
She sat, eyes focused on him.
"I'll be direct," he began. "You've proven yourself incredibly capable, not just with Betty, but in this house. You've brought something… grounding. Something human."
She blinked, unsure where he was going.
"I'm offering you a new role," he continued. "A formal one, within LewisTech. A specialized assistant position. Contract-based. Confidential. It won't be a typical corporate job… you'll be working directly with me, off the books in many areas."
Esther frowned slightly. "Off the books?"
He nodded. "Some of the work we're doing at LewisTech is sensitive. There are very few people I trust with it. And you've already proven yourself trustworthy. You'll be required to sign an NDA and work under restricted access. But I can assure you, it's meaningful work."
She stared at him for a long second, cautious. "Why me?"
He leaned back, his gaze softer now. "Because I believe in potential. Because Betty opened up to you when she shut out the world. And because… I think you're more than what your situation has allowed you to be."
Her throat felt tight. "Will this affect the arrangement we already have… about my mother?"
"No," he said firmly. "Your current position and support remain unchanged. This is an offer, not a demand."
Esther nodded slowly, eyes falling to her hands. Her fingers fidgeted. It felt like a dream, another doorway opening in a world she'd never imagined entering.
"I… I'll think about it."
"Take your time," he said, standing. "I'll have Legal send over the draft tomorrow."
As she rose to leave, Daniel added quietly, "Mis Cole ?"
She turned to him.
"I'm not offering this out of pity. I'm offering it because you belong in more rooms than you think."
And just when the night seemed to be in smooth sail, its silence was cut through by the echoing voices rising from the heart of another home, the Jalloh household.
Nestled in a quieter, more traditional part of the city's inner belt, the Jalloh residence stood with regal stillness, a three-story mansion, broad-shouldered and tastefully grand, surrounded by a sweeping fifty-acre estate that had belonged to the family for generations. Though not as futuristic or high-tech as the Lewis estate, it held a timeless kind of wealth, old money and quiet power, passed down with reverence.
The walls of the home whispered legacy. Cream-colored stone, imported and cut with intricate patterns, lined the outer structure. Elegant arched windows peeked out from each floor, adorned with embroidered gold-and-burgundy curtains from Senegal. Every inch of the estate had purpose, a prayer garden in the east, a horse stable toward the back, and a family masjid tucked under a grove of flowering trees, where the call to prayer was a ritual, not just a sound.
Inside, the air smelled of oud, sandalwood, and the faint scent of cardamom tea. Framed calligraphy of Qur'anic verses decorated the cream walls, nestled among black-and-white portraits of family elders. A large chandelier, an heirloom from Jariatu's grandmother's time, hung from the ceiling of the main hall, catching the gold in every light.
The floors gleamed with marble tiles, and the sitting room, always ready to receive guests, boasted plush velvet couches, handwoven Fullah mats, and carved wooden pieces from Guinea that spoke of both heritage and pride.
It was a home where discipline walked beside elegance, where every family member was raised with the weight of both expectation and tradition. While the Lewises held the power of innovation and corporate reach, the Jallohs held the power of name and nobility, a legacy too revered to be reduced to just money.
And tonight, that legacy trembled. Voices echoed from the upstairs sitting room sharp, layered with heat and tension. Somewhere within the walls of this majestic home, something had been disrupted.
"What do you mean we lost the deal?" Alhaji asked, his voice clipped and disbelieving. He was a tall, dark, and commanding man, his cat-like eyes now fixed sharply on the figure before him. Alhaji was Jariatu's husband and the head of the powerful Jalloh family.
"Koto, mi yidi… I thought we had it too," Amadou, his younger brother, replied in a solemn tone. "But somehow the Sankohs ended up getting the contract."
Their family tech company, J.Tech, had just lost a deal they'd been pursuing for weeks, a major foreign contract to develop a gaming app, worth millions.
"How did the Sankohs get into the picture?" Alhaji asked, his voice low but tight with suppressed rage. "Didn't they already give us their word? What changed at the last moment?"
"They called this morning, pulling out. Signed with the Sankohs instead."
"I've heard that already," Alhaji snapped, the heat in his voice rising. "What I want to know is how the Sankohs even made it into that room. This was a locked deal. There's no way a small, barely-established company like theirs could've pulled this off without serious help."
Amadou's gaze dropped to his feet before he muttered, "I heard they had help. From Daniel Lewis. Word is, he introduced the Sankoh boss to the foreign partners."
And that was all Alhaji needed to hear.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Jaw clenched. Breath tight.
Daniel. Again.
Wasn't it enough that the Lewis family had already caused his family unimaginable pain? That their daughter was the reason his son no longer walked this earth? And now, after all these years, Daniel dared to cross into his business, his legacy?
No, not this time.
He had stayed quiet long enough, telling himself that time would heal. But there would be no healing when every path still led back to the same man.
"I've had enough of him," Alhaji muttered darkly. "If he thinks he can keep sabotaging my family, he's sorely mistaken."
He turned toward the wide open space of the room, voice more to himself now than his brother. "First, his daughter destroyed mine. Then, he embarrassed my wife in front of the school board… now this?"
Amadou hesitated before speaking again. "And Koto… I also got wind of something else from our guy."
Alhaji turned his head slowly.
"They say Lewis is working on a secret project. Something called Neura-voice… it's supposed to help his daughter speak again."
Silence.
And then… a slow, bitter chuckle escaped Alhaji's lips, humorless and cold.
"Not on my watch."
His eyes burned with vengeance as he spoke, "Have our man dig deeper. I want details. There's no way I'm letting him succeed. Not again."
Without another word, Amadou turned and made his way up to the second floor, leaving his brother alone in the grand sitting room, a man cloaked in silence… and wrath.
Somewhere behind the tall arched doorway, footsteps echoed softly against the polished marble floor. Jariatu, graceful in her deep emerald nigh gown and matching head wrap, walked in with an air of calm strength. Her gold bangles clinked lightly as she approached, but she paused when she caught the look on her husband's face.
His hands were clenched into fists, shoulders rigid, and his eyes, those intense, calculating eyes, were fixed on nothing in particular. She had known that look for years.
"Baaba ngel," she said gently, using the soft tone she always reserved for him. "The food is ready." She stepped closer, brows furrowed. "But you… you're somewhere else. What's wrong?"
Alhaji blinked and turned toward her, his jaw still taut. He exhaled slowly, like he was forcing back the fire threatening to escape.
"We lost the contract," he said quietly.
"What?" Her voice tightened.
"To the Sankohs. Apparently, Daniel Lewis helped them secure it."
Jariatu's expression darkened, her nostrils flared slightly. "That man again," she hissed. "Is it not enough that we buried our son five years ago because of his daughter's recklessness?"
Alhaji nodded slowly, the pain flashing briefly in his eyes. "I let it go. I tried. For you. For us. But he just keeps coming."
Her voice lowered to a whisper, "He's not only trying to ruin us, he wants to erase our boy from existence."
Alhaji's chest rose with a slow breath. "He won't succeed. Not this time."
He stepped closer, voice hushed but firm, "Amadou told me something else. Lewis is secretly working on a project… something called Neura-voice. Some high-level tech that could restore his daughter's speech."
Jariatu's eyes narrowed. "And you believe it's true?"
"I do. And I swore, right here in this house, that I wouldn't let that girl go on living like nothing happened. That child took our son from us… and now they want to 'fix' her like it will undo everything?"
Tears rimmed her lashes, but she refused to let them fall. Her voice trembled as she said, "Then promise me, Alhaji. That you won't let him finish that project. Don't let her have her voice back… not when ours was silenced."
Alhaji looked down at her, grief and fury swirling in his chest like a storm. "I promise, Jariatu. I will stop that project… and I'll make sure Daniel feels even a fraction of the loss we carry."
He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her as much as himself. "Our son's death will be justify."