Lyan leaned back in his office chair, the city skyline stretching out beyond the glass. The Robinson deal had to go through. No question. But it wasn't just business—it was personal.
"I owe that man everything," he thought, fingers tapping the edge of his desk. "None of this would've happened without him."
His eyes drifted to the old photo frame beside his laptop—faded, slightly cracked. A picture of his father, smiling beside Mr. Donald Robinson. He hadn't looked at it in a while, but today, it pulled him in like gravity.
Then his mind played a flashback to Five Years Ago, at the Arctic Networks headquarters.
The conference room was too big for a boy who'd just lost everything.
Lyan sat at the long oak table, barely twenty-one, dressed in a suit that didn't quite fit and eyes hollow with grief. Mr. Robinson walked in like he always did—confident, calm, the kind of presence that made people straighten up.
"Lyan," he said, voice steady. "I came as soon as I heard."
Lyan stood awkwardly, unsure if he should shake his hand or just... cry. He chose neither.
"I—I don't know what I'm doing," Lyan admitted. His voice cracked. "My dad left nothing. The board's ready to sell everything off. And I can't stop them."
Robinson nodded slowly, pulling out the chair across from him. "Your father was a good man. And he made mistakes out of love."
Lyan swallowed hard, his hands clenching in his lap. "He tried so damn hard to save Mom. He emptied accounts, begged investors, used company funds..."
"He didn't fail," Robinson said quietly. "He just... didn't make it to the finish line."
Lyan blinked rapidly. "So what now? I lose the company? My name gets dragged through every financial headline in the country?"
"No." Robinson leaned forward. "You're going to fight. And I'm going to help you."
Lyan let out a breath, half a laugh, as the memory faded. He slammed the table thinking of any possible way to get out of the puzzle.
"He didn't have to save me. I was just a kid with a ruined name and zero experience." But Robinson had seen something. Something even Lyan couldn't see back then.
He stood now, adjusting his cufflinks. That old fear—that crippling helplessness—was long gone. Replaced with fire. Purpose.
But still, one truth remained.
"I wouldn't be here without Donald Robinson. And now, it is my turn to return the favor." He murmured to himself.
Lyan walked towards the window and stood motionless, watching the city blur beneath the gray sky. The deal was just hours away, but it wasn't numbers or signatures weighing on him.
It was Tania.And him.And a promise he'd never truly answered.
His mind drifted backward again—to that day. That moment. That one sentence that changed the course of everything.
"I can help you," Robinson said, his voice calm, slicing through the silence like a scalpel. "But in return, I need something valuable from you."
Lyan blinked. "Anything."
He regretted the word the moment it left his lips.
Robinson's eyes didn't waver. "If you succeed... you'll marry my daughter."
"Wait. What?"
Lyan's throat went dry. "Tania?"
"She likes you. I'm not forcing anything. But I won't lie—I hope something comes of it. Still, I'll help you regardless."
Lyan couldn't even speak. His mind was spinning. "Is this real? A test? Some kind of arranged loyalty?"
He managed a nod, stiff and unsure. "I agree. Anything for you to help me. I just want to survive this."
He walked slowly to his desk, trailing a finger along the edge.
"You didn't just take the money, Lyan." He said to himself, "You took the lifeline. You grabbed it with both hands."
Robinson hadn't just signed a check and walked away. No, he'd rolled up his sleeves. Worked beside him. Pushed him harder than anyone else ever had.
"He became more than a father. Supported me in everyway." Lyan thought.
"And somewhere in between, I learned. Not just about business—but how to lead. How to own the room. How to repair what had been shattered."
Lyan thought about his feelings towards Angela, and his promise to Robinson to marry Tania.
"I was twenty-five, then." Lyan murmured, "Young. Talented, maybe. But raw. And scared.And Robinson... Robinson became more than a mentor. How is he going to take the fact that I am going back on my word? He became a mirror."
Lyan thoughts drifted back to a year later after going into his father's place.
The company had just posted its first quarterly profit in almost two years. Lyan was still in his office, running numbers again, not trusting the good news.
Robinson had walked in quietly.
"You did it."
Lyan had looked up, surprised. "We did it."
There was a long pause. Then, the question came again.
"What do you think about what I asked you—about Tania?"
Lyan set his pen down, careful. Calculated.
"Right now, it's about business," he said. "If I can prove myself, maybe we can talk about the future. But not now."
Robinson had smiled. But it was small. Tired. Almost... disappointed.
"Just remember," he said, "business and life overlap more than you think. You'll need to find balance eventually."
Back to the Present
Lyan blinked, dragged back to the now.
His fingers hovered over his phone, thumb trembling slightly above the call icon beside Mr. Robinson's name.
Just call him. Set things straight.
But he didn't.
Instead, he stared at the number, mind racing. Heart thudding. His hand finally dropped the phone to his desk, and he sank into the chair like the weight of his thoughts had pulled him down.
"What am I even thinking?" he muttered under his breath.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
"If I say no to Tania now... will he take back everything? What if he sees it as betrayal?"
He exhaled, frustrated.
"And Angela… does she even feel the same? Or am I just hoping for something that doesn't exist?"
Silence again.
Then a bitter laugh escaped his lips.
"I've built empires and crushed competitors. But one woman, one damn question, and I'm paralyzed."
He leaned forward, rubbed his palms against his face, then grabbed the phone again.
This time, he didn't call Mr. Robinson.
He called security.
The line rang twice before a voice answered.
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't let anyone in through the gate," Lyan said, voice sharp. "No exceptions. If someone comes asking for me—even if they say I sent them—tell them I'm unavailable. Got it?"
A brief pause. "Understood, sir."
Lyan ended the call and tapped immediately into his contacts and called Andrew.
"Hello, sir," Andrew answered, professional as always.
"I need your help," Lyan said. "Figure out how we can finalize the deal ahead of schedule. Quietly. Make sure Robinson doesn't catch wind of it."
"I'll handle it," Andrew replied. "I'll go over the contracts, find loopholes, move the paperwork through the right channels. No one will notice."
"Good. Keep me in the loop."
"I'll take care of it."
Lyan hung up. He knew this was his only chance. If he secured the deal himself, the company would be untouchable—powerful enough to stand on its own. And finally, he'd be able to say no to Robinson without fear.
"I didn't survive all this to be caged by gratitude. I wouldn't owe anyone anything. Not a favor, not a marriage." He thought.
That thought alone made him feel lighter.
But it wouldn't be easy. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart. He had to be precise. Focused. There was no room to stumble.
A knock on the door broke through his thoughts.
"Sir, dinner is ready," said Mrs. Jones from outside.
"Thank you," Lyan replied. He rose from the chair and stepped out of the study, his mind still running miles ahead.