“You too,” she replied.
They stood side by side, quietly watching the city lights come on. No words, just two strangers carrying their own battles, finding calm in an unexpected moment.
When Ifyoma finally turned to leave, Tunday did not press her for answers. He only said, “Take care of yourself.”
For the first time in a long while, she believed she could.
She looked back and smiled, small but real.
Tunday nodded and returned to his post.
Ifyoma stood there with a lighter heart. She had gone up there looking for air. But she had found something better—a reminder that good people still existed, even in a world full of greed and cold ambition.
Neither of them knew it yet.
But that stumble, that catch, and that shared glance were the start of everything.
The days after meeting Tunday on the rooftop passed in a blur. Ifyoma returned to her exhausting routine: endless meetings with lawyers and board members whose eyes were full of greed. They smiled politely, but she could feel them secretly planning how to tear apart her father’s empire. Every handshake felt fake. Every conversation tasted like betrayal.
She hated it.
At night, when the mansion was silent and she could hear only her own breathing, her mind went back to him. Tunday, the stranger who never asked what she owned or how much money she had. He had looked at her like she was just a person, not a prize.
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