I needed to go before I lost it.
He gestured at the sofa opposite. When I didn’t move, his shoulders sagged. Defeat slipped into his tone. “Be the project manager for the company’s partnership with PT Artamain Persero. Take over.” He sipped his vodka. “Your brother’s abroad for two months, so he cannot.” His darkeyes landed on me. “This is a government-linked project. I can only trust you.”
My eyes narrowed. Anger prickled in my veins.Of course.I’d known this was coming. I was fully aware and had a bad feeling about it. I should never have listened to Zaeem. First, the architect, nowa project manager?I had had a feeling he was involved in this, and I was fucking right.
“Why involve me deeper? I won’t stay here long, Dad!” I barked. “And you’re shameless enough to hand a project this size to someone not even in your company?”
“You’re my son, and this is my company!” He slammed his palm against the coffee table. “Even if you hold no position, act as your brother’s assistant. As project manager while he’s away!”
For fuck’s sake.
I glared at him with fire in my eyes.
His son? I didn’t give a shit about him or his bloody company.
I had my own life. My own career.
I had always known he wanted me as his successor. But it would be better if someone pushed me off a cliff. I couldn’t take the idea of being bound, especially by him.
I did what I decided to do.
Architecture and investing.
At the start, it was always the same story for all of us. Zaeem—or even Zeraiah—had a career, but they also dabbled in investing—Grandpa guided us. That was how our mother’s side of the family was.
They were generous souls, like Mum. Instead of forcing their three grandchildren to take over, they continued teaching us what they thought was necessary whenever we visited; they never demanded anything or made us feel constrained.
They never said nonsense about us potentially harming them, damaging their name, or embarrassing their company, no matter how damaged, flawed, or tarnished we might be.To them, we were their children whom they would continue to love and understand.
Unlike him.
Always unlike him.
So when he spoke of disgrace, shame, and names sullied, a short fucking humourless laugh slipped out from me.
“You’ve studied business since you were a boy,” he pressed on. “Only you can be trusted. If not for me, then do it for your brother. The project bears his name as much as mine.”
Typical.Always hid behind Zaeem, always using his name to reach me.
And fuck, it always worked.
“Cunning,” I muttered, lips curling. “Forever dragging Mas Zaeem’s name into our negotiations.”
“Because I know how much you care for your siblings, Zioh.” His gaze cut deep.
And he was right—toobloody right.
I nodded. “Of course.” I loved them; when I love, I fall so profoundly that I lose myself, giving my entire being because I cannot bear to lose.Not again.
Staring back at him, I meant every word. “We only have each other now.” I exhaled one final breath, turned on my heel, and headed for the door.
I needed to get out. He could not see me like this.Not him.
“Fine. But I’ll do it only for Zaeem.Notyou.” My hand was already reaching for the door handle when my phone suddenly rang. I slipped it out of my pocket, unlocked it, and saw the name of the person who had brought this curse upon me flashing across the screen.
Mas Zaeem:I really need your help, Zi. Please help me, okay?
Zioh:Fine. But just this once. This project should be yours.
