That’s from the 2022 data set, the one from the credit risk collapse. That mistake cost us credibility. Cassian came over, eyes sharp, jaw tight. He studied the screen, zooming in on the offending segment. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then his shoulders relaxed just slightly. You found the gap our data team missed for over a year.

Lena looked down, cheeks flushed. I just saw something that did not look right. No, Cassian said, “You prevented us from repeating history. They worked through the night. Hours slipped past. Sunrise edged into the sky beyond narrow windows. At one point, Lena stood and left the room to splash water on her face.

Cassian noticed her coffee cup, still empty, for over an hour. Her movements were slower now, her eyes heavy, but still focused. When she disappeared into the hallway, Cassian headed to the kitchenet. He brewed chamomile tea instead of coffee, placed the cup gently by her station, and beside it, a folded napkin. In pencil, he wrote, “Eyes need rest like minds do. You’re doing great. Very great.

” When Lena returned, she paused. She read the note. And for the first time since their late night work began, she smiled, soft, unguarded, real. From that night forward, subtle gestures appeared. Cassian brought two hoodies each night. One for Ezra, one left neatly folded beside Lion’s chair. He never said a word. Eventually, she wore it. He never told her to rest.

But when her eyelids drooped, he dimmed the lights. When the hours stretched long and hunger crept in, protein bars quietly appeared on the table. Lena, once accustomed to passing unnoticed in hallways, mopping floors beneath hurried footsteps, began to feel seen. Not in a spotlight, not with pity, just seen.

And Cassian, who had built his empire on bold pitches, market instinct, and high stakes investment, began to watch her in a new light. Her patience, her steadiness, the way she triple-checked her notes, even when no one was watching. He had once thought power was in dominance. But now he saw it in endurance, in clarity, in someone who believed in something simply because it was worth believing in.

There were no romantic words between them, no late night confessions, just something deeper forming in the silence. Respect, resilience, trust. Together, they revised the model. Together, they watched the early simulations begin to shift from red to green. No guarantees, but signs, signals, possibilities. Under the soft hum of old machinery and the glow of outdated monitors, something more than an algorithm began to form.

They were building not just a solution, but a shared purpose, one that neither of them had seen coming. Weeks passed. The clock no longer felt like an enemy, but an ally ticking alongside them. Late one evening, as the city outside began to soften under the first touch of spring, the final line of code compiled cleanly. No errors, no flags.

The algorithm had passed all simulations with flying colors. Ezra let out a low whistle, leaning back. That’s it. It’s done. Cassian did not smile immediately. He stood silently in front of the monitor, hands in his pockets, watching the lines of prediction metrics scroll. Then he turned to Lina and simply said, “It’s time.” The decision was swift.

A private demo. Invitation only. Just a handful of investors Cassian still trusted held in a small conference room far from the usual spotlight. No board, no media, just results. Cassian led the preparation. Ezra handled the data integration.

Lena, despite not being part of the official team, designed the presentation. Her fingers moved quickly but with care, turning complex visual models into clear, elegant slides. Cassian reviewed each one beside her, eyes narrowing occasionally, then nodding with quiet approval. The night before the demo, they stayed late in the main briefing room.

Lena adjusted a projector cord behind the stage curtain, fidgeting with the clicker. Cassian watched her from the wings, noticing the slight tremble in her hands. He stepped closer, careful not to startle her, and placed his hand gently on the sleeve of her sweater. Just enough pressure to ground her. You don’t need to stand in front of them,” he said quietly.