Chapter 3 A Glimpse of the Man

Thursday was quieter than usual.

The rain tapped gently against the tall glass windows of Boateng Holdings, casting a gray hue over the boardroom as Vernissa organized files in silence. Mr. Boateng had been in back-to-back virtual meetings all morning-his voice calm, calculated, always in control.

She was beginning to realize something:

His silence spoke louder than his words.

It was nearly noon when she brought him his updated investor portfolio. She knocked gently, entered, and stopped mid-step.

He wasn't alone.

On the sleek black couch sat an elegant older woman in a headwrap and pearl earrings. Her warmth lit up the icy office, and her laugh-soft and musical-was so unfamiliar in this space, it startled her.

Mr. Boateng was smiling.

Not smirking.

Not scowling.

Smiling.

He noticed her and stood immediately. "Come in. This is my mother-Mrs. Boateng."

The woman rose and extended her hand. "Ah, so you're the one keeping my son on schedule these days."

Vernissa smiled, flustered. "I'm trying, ma'am."

"She's doing more than that," the woman said with a wink. "He hasn't looked this rested in months."

Mr. Boateng cleared his throat and motioned to the documents. "Is that the file?"

"Yes, sir."

She handed it over, and his fingers brushed hers. A jolt shot through her arm, uninvited. He must've felt it too, because he hesitated-for just a breath-before taking the folder.

"Thank you, Miss Safo."

"Enjoy your visit, ma'am," Vernissa added with a polite nod.

As she left the office, she didn't miss the sound of Mr. Boateng's mother whispering behind her, "She's lovely, Kwame. I like her eyes."

Later that day, Vernissa was collecting copies near the lounge when she saw him again.

Alone this time.

He was standing by the window, looking out at the rain-soaked city below, shoulders tense. The smile from earlier was gone. His posture had returned to its usual rigid frame.

She almost walked away.

But something about the way his jaw clenched told her he wasn't working.

He was remembering.

She stepped closer. Quietly. "Is your mother leaving soon?"

He turned slightly, startled. "Yes. She stopped by to drop off something. She lives in Kumasi now."

"She's lovely. Warm."

A flicker of something crossed his face. "She worries. Still thinks she can fix me."

The way he said it-half a joke, half a wound-made her chest ache.

"Maybe you're not broken," she offered.

His gaze locked onto hers.

Long. Unblinking.

"Everyone's broken somehow, Miss Safo. The smart ones just hide it better."

She didn't know what to say to that. But he didn't seem to expect an answer.

After a moment, he added, "I had a fiancée once."

That stunned her.

"She left," he continued. "Took my money, my trust, and half a decade of my life. Since then, I don't let anyone close."

Vernissa felt the room shrink.

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.

He stepped forward-slowly. His presence filled the space around her, but his voice stayed very low.

"Because you're not stupid. And I don't want you to misread anything."

"Misread what?"

He studied her face. For too long.

Then pulled back.

"Forget it."

She exhaled sharply. "Too late."

That night, she couldn't sleep.

Not because she was afraid of tomorrow's meetings.

But because for the first time since she stepped into that office, she saw not the CEO, not the ice, not the rumors.

She saw a man.

Flawed.Beautifully human.

And her heart...

Her heart was in trouble.