CONTRACTS AND CONFESSIONS
"Mr. Adams, it says here in the contract that the revenue gained from this partnership shall be split equally. I wish to change that to 60–40. We take the greater part, obviously," James Kuti, my General Manager, said, his voice steady but firm as he scanned the contract with intense focus.
The tension in the conference room rose subtly, as though the air itself paused to listen. James had always been confident, but there was a particular sharpness in his tone now—a reflection of the pressure we were under. The U.S. Government contract was the biggest project our company had ever handled, and he wasn't about to let us be undervalued. Even so, I felt my pulse quicken. Negotiations with a man like Luke Adams were not something you approached carelessly.
"And why is that, Mr. Kuti?" Luke asked, raising a brow with calm curiosity.
Luke's voice was smooth—almost too calm. There was something unnerving about how easily he maintained control, how his expression never revealed more than he wanted it to. He didn't sound offended or impressed. Just… curious. Like someone who already knew where the conversation would end before it even began.
"Well, for starters…" James closed the contract and leaned forward. "Hope's Fashion World originally owned the contract given by the Government of the United States. But given the time limit we were expected to complete the designs, it was impossible for a single company to handle such a massive workload. They sought your company's assistance for support. Furthermore, we will be doing the major work—design preparation for the clothing lines, the fittings and measurements for all their guests, and the creative oversight. Your company will handle the secondary aspects—sewing, sorting, material verification. The general supervision? That will be done personally by Miss Hope." He nodded respectfully toward me.
I felt Luke's gaze shift to me, brief but intentional. It was like being caught under sunlight—warm, but too bright. He didn't say a word, yet I could tell he was assessing me, calculating even. For a moment, I wondered what he truly thought of the arrangement James was proposing.
I watched Luke whisper something to his assistant, Bankole. They seemed to be debating the matter quietly. I strained to catch even a word, but it was useless. Luke had this slow, calculated way of speaking that made everything seem intentional, and right now, he was unreadable.
Bankole nodded occasionally, his expression neutral but attentive. Luke said something else, low and deliberate, then leaned back in his seat. I hated that I couldn't read their faces. I hated even more that the silence between us grew heavier with every passing second. My hand subconsciously reached for my necklace—a nervous habit I had developed over the years.
Finally, he leaned back and said, "That's fair enough, Mr. Kuti. But I'll assist Miss Hope with general supervision, if you don't mind." He gave me a brief glance—too brief to interpret—before looking back at James.
His tone was smooth, but that brief pause before he said my name sent a strange ripple through me. Why did it feel like there was more behind that simple sentence?
James looked at me, silently asking for approval. I nodded.
"That's alright by Miss Hope," he said with satisfaction. "It's a deal then." James rose to shake Luke's hand.
Everything seemed to move too fast from that point. I stood as well, my palms suddenly warm. My mind was already jumping to schedules, designs, deadlines—but beneath that, something else lingered. Something unwelcome.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Adams," I said, rising. "Please come with me to my office so we can make the necessary amendments before signing."
"Certainly," he said, following me out of the conference room.
As we walked down the hallway, he said, "That's a really good manager you have there."
His voice drew me out of my thoughts. For a second, I relaxed. Talking about work felt safer—less charged—than being under the weight of his attention.
"Yes, he's one of the best," I said with a proud smile.
James truly was a gift. He had turned down numerous offers from larger companies just to stay with mine. Loyalty like his was rare, and I never once took it for granted.
Luke nodded. "His attention to detail is impeccable. I see why your company is one of the best in the country."
"Yeah. But we're hoping to be the best in the world someday," I joked.
He laughed—a rich, warm sound that somehow filled the entire space. "I like this ambitious lady I see," he teased lightly. "And I think I'm going to love working with her."
The intensity of his gaze caught me off guard. Again. What was wrong with me? My heart shouldn't skip a beat for a man who wasn't my fiancé.
I looked away quickly, pretending to focus on the documents in my hand. But his presence was almost physical—like I could feel him behind me, even without looking.
"Mr. Adams, are you always this flirtatious?" I asked, trying to hide the warmth rising to my cheeks.
"Oh, please call me Luke," he said. "We'll be working closely together after all. And trust me, I'm not always like this. It's just… for some weird reason, I feel like I can easily connect with you—on an intimate level." His tone softened, almost cautious. "I hope that made sense. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
It did make sense. Too much sense. But I wasn't about to admit that.
"Not entirely," I lied playfully. "But we can work with that. So… back to business." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "How are you the CEO of Zarah's Collection? I thought the CEO was a woman. And I was told a representative was coming—not the owner himself."
We reached my office door, and I opened it, grateful for the barrier between us and the world outside. His footsteps followed mine in.
His eyes brightened with understanding. "Ah, so that explains your initial shock when I introduced myself earlier." He exhaled lightly. "Well, the owner of Zarah's Collection is indeed a woman—my mother. She's currently indisposed and handed the company over to me. I've heard many wonderful things about your brand, Miss Hope. I wanted to see for myself the brain behind the brilliance. And I must confess—" he paused, his gaze lingering, "—she's not only intelligent, but extremely beautiful."
My face heated instantly. Who was this man making me unravel like this?
"W-Well, thank you for the compliment," I stammered. "But this beauty is already taken."
"Oh?" he blinked. "Are you married? Forgive me—I assumed you were single because I didn't see a ring. I'm sorry if that was rude."
"Not married. Engaged," I said, suddenly feeling awkward. "I'm just not used to wearing my ring all the time."
A shadow crossed his expression. "He's a lucky man," he said quietly. "And I pray he doesn't mess it up… or else I'll be waiting." He attempted a smile, but I could see the disappointment underneath.
My heart lurched in a way I didn't expect. His tone wasn't playful anymore. It carried something deeper—something he tried to hide.
Before I could respond, a knock saved me.
Ariel walked in with the amended contract.
"Sir, you need to sign here," she said politely.
I exhaled, relieved for the interruption.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, becoming more business-like, though I was painfully aware of the tension still simmering between us.
"Ma'am, your turn," she added after he finished.
"It's official now," I said, shaking Luke's hand. His touch sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
"Indeed," he replied with a dazzling smile. "Cheers."
"See you next week," I said before I could stop myself. Why did I sound excited?
He chuckled lightly. "Have a great day, Hope."
When he finally left, I let out a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The room felt strangely empty without him, and I hated that realization.
I barely had a second to settle when my phone rang—Adrian.
"Hi Hopey, how are you doing?"
"Adrian, you know I hate it when you call me that."
"You'll live," he laughed.
His voice—dramatic as always—was like a splash of cold water on my heated thoughts. Adrian had a way of dragging me back into reality.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm stressed."
"What happened? Everything okay?"
"Yes, I'm just hungover," I sighed.
He laughed again. "Last night was lit and you know it."
"No, it was hell. I'm never doing that again."
"Not on my watch," he teased. "Anyway, I'll be free tomorrow for that photoshoot you've been begging me to do."
My heart leaped. "Are you serious?! What about the runway showcase?"
"That too. Send the details to my assistant."
"And Shay?"
"France. Tomorrow. He'll do his shoot next week."
We ended the call, and I immediately instructed my secretary to send all necessary details to Adrian's team.
For a moment, I let myself relax. Work always grounded me. Work made sense.
I was packing up when Ariel ran back into my office.
"Ma'am… you need to see this."
She switched on the TV.
"…and on entertainment news, Judy Adams, CEO of Zarah's Collection, has been diagnosed with cancer of the liver…"
My breath caught.
The room suddenly felt colder. My chest tightened as the words sank in.
"…the 76-year-old business magnate handed over the company to her only son, Luke Adams, and is set to undergo major surgery…"
I turned off the TV quickly as my heartbeat quickened.
My stomach twisted painfully.
Cancer?
No wonder he said she was indisposed. But he didn't tell me this.
A part of me understood immediately. Some burdens were too heavy to speak about casually, especially to someone you'd just met. But another part of me wondered how he could stand there earlier—smiling, flirting, negotiating—while carrying something so devastating.
The thought unsettled me more than it should have.
How was he able to carry himself with such poise—smile even—knowing his mother was preparing for surgery?
I wanted to call him. To ask if he was okay. To tell him I was sorry he was going through this.
But I knew it was impossible. Now that the news had leaked, the media would be suffocating him.
I sank slowly into my chair.
The day had started beautifully. Then everything shifted.
And I couldn't stop thinking about him.
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