The project documents Marcus had sent were waiting in Leonardo's email the next morning. They weren't just ordinary papers—they were a detailed file bearing the letterhead of a prestigious law firm. **His heart raced as he opened the file, as if he were on the verge of uncovering a buried treasure.**
At first glance, everything seemed perfect. The terms were clear, the profits were fair, and Leonardo's share was larger than he had expected. But hidden within the fine print, troubling details began to emerge.
**"Clause 7: Any major investment decision requires the approval of both parties."**
**"Clause 12: Both parties agree not to engage in any competing projects during the contract period."**
**"Clause 19: In the event of contract termination, intellectual property rights will be transferred to the more active party in the project."**
The language was legal and complex, **and as he scrolled through the pages, he wondered: how many of these clauses would one day be used against his will?** He, who believed in flexibility and creativity, was now bound by these rigid terms.
When they met at another, more luxurious café, Marcus was waiting with a broad smile. **The lavish leather chairs and art pieces adorning the walls made him feel as though he were in a world he didn't belong to**—a glittering world that was starting to feel like a gilded cage.
"See? Everything is professionally organized," Marcus said, pushing an exquisite cup of coffee toward Leonardo.
"Yes, but… some of these clauses seem a bit restrictive."
Marcus's eyebrows rose slightly. "Restrictive? This is the nature of serious business, my friend. We can't risk the project's future."
"I understand, but…" **His mind screamed refusal, but his heart was afraid of losing the only friend he thought he had found.**
"Let me ask you an important question," Marcus interrupted, **holding his coffee cup with a confident hand.** "Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you!"
"Then why all these reservations? Do you think I would harm you?"
"No, I don't think so…" **He felt as though he were betraying himself with every concession, but his fear of losing the friendship was stronger.**
"Now, there's one more thing," Marcus said, taking out his phone. "The first meeting with the investors is tomorrow. And I think it's best if I do the talking on our behalf."
"But… it's my project!"
"And I understand that," **Marcus's voice sharpened like a knife.** "But these investors are serious businesspeople. They need someone who knows how to handle them."
Leonardo felt the ground slipping beneath his feet. After months of dreaming about this project, was he now reduced to a mere spectator? **He left the café carrying invisible burdens, each step heavy as if leading him toward a fate he did not want.**
On his way home, Leonardo passed that dark street again. This time, the gray-haired man was sitting on a park bench.
"The first file is always the hardest," the man said without looking at him. **"Every thread you give today will become a rope that binds you tomorrow."**
"Who are you?" Leonardo asked, **his voice trembling between fear and curiosity.**
"Someone who has played this game before," the man turned toward him, **his eyes holding an old pain.** "Did you notice how he made your doubts seem like a betrayal of trust?"
Leonardo fell silent, realizing the man was right.
"The game is still in its early stages," the man stood up slowly. "But remember: every concession you make today will lead to a bigger one tomorrow."
**Leonardo left the place holding a heavy file in his hands, even heavier questions in his heart, and an overwhelming feeling that he had entered a maze with no idea how to find his way out.**