Majek sat in the small office, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. His fingers gripped the edge of the desk, the dark wood cool under his palms, but it didn't calm the burning restlessness inside him. He could still hear Agnes's voice, soft and fragile, as she'd called his name in that fleeting moment of connection—before the world had torn them apart. Before everything shattered.
A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts.
"Come in."
The door creaked open slowly, and Mr. Smith Lewis stepped in, his face unreadable, as always. The CEO's sharp gaze swept over Majek, his usual indifference replaced by something darker—something almost… tired.
"You've been quiet today," Mr. Smith said, closing the door behind him. "Too quiet."
Majek didn't look up. "I've been thinking."
"Thinking," Mr. Smith repeated, his voice low. "You've been doing a lot of that lately."
Majek finally met the older man's gaze. "What do you want from me, sir?"
"Your loyalty," Mr. Smith said without hesitation. "Nothing more, nothing less."
Loyalty.
The word felt like a weight on his chest, suffocating him. He had already given his loyalty to Agnes—long before he realized what it would cost him. He had been a coward for far too long, unwilling to admit his feelings, afraid of the consequences. Now, with the promise of his future tied to the fragile thread of Agnes's fate, Majek wasn't sure where his duty lay.
"I don't know if I can give you that anymore," Majek whispered, his voice hoarse. The confession, though quiet, felt like a rebellion against the life he had always known.
"You will," Mr. Smith said, a quiet, dangerous certainty in his tone. "You will give me your loyalty. Because it's the only thing keeping this company—this empire—alive."
Majek's heart raced. "What if I don't believe in your empire anymore? What if I don't want to be a part of a system that forces people to live in cages of their own making?"
Mr. Smith's eyes darkened, but he didn't speak. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Majek couldn't bear it anymore.
"I'm sorry, sir," Majek said, standing up, his voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. "But I can't do this. I can't be the man you want me to be."
He turned and walked out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him, but he knew that his words had been the first cracks in a dam that had been built up over years. And now… the floodwaters were starting to rise.
Agnes sat in the quiet of her father's mansion, the sound of the piano keys echoing softly through the room as her fingers moved almost instinctively over the ivories. She didn't know why she played this particular melody, but the familiar tune seemed to call to her in ways she couldn't explain. It was a song she had heard in her dreams, in fragmented memories that still felt too distant to reach.
The melody twisted and turned, evoking a deep, aching longing inside her. She could almost see his face, feel his presence—Majek. But just as quickly as the memory surfaced, it slipped away, leaving only a sense of confusion in its wake.
"Miss Agnes," a voice called from the doorway.
She paused, her hands hovering above the keys as she turned to face the figure standing in the doorway—Lami, looking every bit the perfect heir, his arrogance masked by a practiced smile.
"What are you doing here?" Agnes asked, her voice colder than she intended.
Lami stepped forward, crossing the room with his usual confident stride. "I thought you might be in here, playing your sad little songs. Trying to remember him, aren't you?"
She didn't respond, her fingers brushing against the keys again, a nervous habit. Lami watched her closely, his eyes sharp, as if he could see right through her.
"You know," Lami continued, his voice lowering with a dark undertone, "you'll never remember him the way you think you will. You've already made your choice, Agnes. You're mine. Your father has already promised you to me. It's not just the company that's at stake here, you know."
Agnes's eyes narrowed. "You're delusional if you think I've made any kind of choice. And stop talking about me like I'm some… piece of property."
Lami chuckled, a hollow sound that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, you have made a choice. You've just been too afraid to admit it. But don't worry, I'll remind you. I'll make sure you remember what's important—what we have to do for this legacy."
Agnes clenched her fists, the sound of the piano's keys suddenly feeling like a prison around her. "I don't care about your legacy, Lami. I care about what's real. And what's real is that I don't love you."
His expression faltered for just a moment, but only just. "You'll learn to love me. You don't have a choice."
Majek didn't know where he was going, but he had to keep moving. His steps echoed through the streets as he walked aimlessly, the weight of his decision still heavy on his chest. He couldn't stay in that office. He couldn't be the pawn in someone else's game anymore—not when it meant betraying everything he felt for Agnes.
A sharp pain tugged at his heart as he thought of her—so close, yet so far. She didn't remember him. She didn't even remember what they had shared before everything fell apart. And the worst part was, he wasn't sure if she ever would.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number.
"Meet me at the old café. It's time we talk."
The message was unsigned, but Majek knew who it was from. There was only one person who would reach out to him like this—one person who knew everything that had happened between him and Agnes.
Lami.
Majek's heart skipped a beat. What did Lami want now? And why didn't he trust that the man had anything good in mind?
His fingers hovered over the screen, torn between ignoring the message and giving in to the curiosity that gnawed at him. But the words "It's time we talk" lingered in his mind, like a warning.
He couldn't ignore it. He had to go.
Agnes lay in bed that night, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lami's words had dug deep into her mind, leaving her restless and uncertain. She wasn't sure what she had been searching for—whether it was truth, freedom, or something else entirely—but she knew one thing: it wasn't with him.
The memories—those fractured, elusive pieces—were slipping away faster than she could catch them. Majek. His name whispered through her thoughts, his face flickering at the edge of her mind.
She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. I'll remember you, she promised silently.
Somehow, she knew she would.