To build a true powerhouse in the world of nanotech, QuantumLyfe couldn't just scrape by—it needed to tower over its competitors. We needed a bigger building, cutting-edge research facilities, and resources that would dwarf even our boldest dreams.
A billion dollars was an incredible start, but deep down, I knew it was only a drop in the ocean. Sinclair's investment was the opening shot, the first wave.
As soon as we launched, there would be no stopping us. Investors would flock to our door, seeing the undeniable proof of our success.
QuantumLyfe wouldn't just be another tech company—it would be
the
name in nanotechnology, the face of a revolution that would redefine science, medicine, and even life itself.
And I was ready to ride that wave straight to the top.
It wasn't just a random act of generosity—it was a calculated move, a bold decision based on what he had just witnessed.
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Michael had proven something extraordinary today. His nanotechnology had saved a life, and not just any life—Sebastian, the dog that was practically Sinclair's only remaining family after the passing of his wife. No offense to his children.
Anyone with half a brain could see the potential. If Michael's technology could save a dying animal, what could it do for people? The investment wasn't reckless—it was a first step into a future that could change everything.
"Grandpa, don't you want to wait until Sebastian fully recovers before you make such a huge investment?" I teased, though I knew the answer.
Sinclair didn't even glance at me. His eyes were still locked on the building as if he could already see the future unfolding in front of him. "You've invested in this place, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low but serious.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah," I admitted, tilting my head. "But are you basing your decision just on that? My investment?"
Sinclair finally turned his eyes back to me, and for the first time, I saw something different in them—a kind of trust, a belief in something beyond money and power.
"I know what you've been doing these past few months," he said quietly, his words filled with meaning. "I know you've got good instincts. I trust you."
I was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. Sinclair, the man who was as ruthless in business as he was affectionate with his dog, was trusting me—my judgment, my choices.
I chuckled softly, trying to mask the sudden warmth in my chest. "Are you sure it's not just some whimsical teenage girl trying to play investor?" I teased, though my voice was gentler this time.
All of it.
A single, glaring number stared back at me—$0.74.
My hands went cold. My pulse quickened, the world narrowing into that unforgiving screen. Had I been hacked? Stolen from? My thoughts spiraled, blood rushing to my head so fast it made everything throb. I blinked, hoping it was some kind of error. This couldn't be real.
It *
couldn't
be real.
Sinclair's voice became a muffled hum. I could hear Victor too, but everything felt far away, as if I was underwater.
"Eve?" Sinclair's voice broke through the haze, but I couldn't focus.
"Eve, what's wrong?"
My vision blurred, and my head pounded, each throb more painful than the last.
"Eve!" Michael's voice shot through, sharp with concern. "What's happening?!"
But before I could answer, everything went black, and the world vanished beneath me.
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|| A/N ||
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