2. Technology should improve lives, not complicate them.
The city moved beneath the glass walls of my office like a living circuit. I adjusted my cufflinks once, then turned back to the conference table as the board settled into silence.
"Let's begin." I declared.
No one spoke until invited. They never did.
Anderson Technologies wasn't just the largest tech firm in the country—it was an ecosystem. AI infrastructure, cybersecurity, cloud architecture, medical data systems, government contracts.
Every division answered to numbers, projections, and accountability. Emotions didn't belong here. Performance did.
The CFO presented first. I listened without interruption, eyes on the data scrolling across the screen. Revenue growth was steady, margins tightening where expected. I flagged inefficiencies before he finished his sentence.
"Cut the redundancy in the Southeast rollout," I said. "We don't need three vendors doing the job of one."
There was a pause. Then everyone in the room nodded. Notes were taken.
Next came RD. Promising developments, ambitious timelines. I asked precise questions—about scalability, security risks, deployment. If there was uncertainty, I dismantled it. If there was hesitation, I exposed it.
By the time the meeting adjourned, decisions had been made, directions set, and timelines shortened. People filed out with purpose. That was the difference between leadership and authority. One inspired movement. The other ensured it.
My assistant fell into step beside me as we walked down the corridor. "Your schedule's tight today. Site visit at eleven, legal review at two, and the interview prep at four."
"I'll need the conference brief before lunch," I said. "And move the legal review to virtual."
She nodded, already typing.
The elevator ride down was silent. I preferred it that way.
At the development campus, I walked the floor with engineers and department heads, hands clasped behind my back as I listened, observed, assessed. I didn't hover. I didn't micromanage. I asked the right questions, and people answered honestly because they knew I could tell when they didn't.
By early afternoon, I was back in the office, jacket off, sleeves rolled, reviewing contracts and signing approvals with efficient strokes of my pen. Lunch came and went untouched. I had great tasks to manage, huge decisions to implement. The food could wait.
At four sharp, the media team arrived for my interview.
The interview was scheduled for prime time—televised, live and strategic. The upcoming Anderson Global Tech Conference was already drawing international attention, and investors wanted reassurance. Governments wanted alignment. The public wanted a face.
They got mine.
The studio lights were warm and precise. I adjusted the microphone clipped to my lapel, posture relaxed but deliberate. The anchor smiled for the camera—polished and rehearsed.
"Mr. Anderson," she said, "you're hosting what's being called the most influential tech conference in the region. What can we expect this year?"
"Innovation with accountability," I replied without hesitation. "Technology doesn't exist in a vacuum. This conference is about shaping systems that serve people—securely, ethically, and at scale."
The questions came smoothly—AI ethics, national infrastructure, partnerships with healthcare systems. I answered each one with clarity and confidence.
By the time the interview ended, the anchor thanked me with genuine admiration. Cameras cut. Applause followed.
Back in the car, the city blurred past the tinted windows. Notifications buzzed softly—emails, updates, confirmations. Everything was moving exactly as it should.
But for some reason, an unfamiliar feeling squeezed my chest. It wasn't anxiety. It wasn't doubt. It was a feeling that something major was about to happen. Something waiting quietly in a corner for me.
I leaned my head back, exhaling heavily, dismissing the feeling as fatigue. Tomorrow would be another day of decisions, numbers, and authority. The conference would proceed. The company would grow. Control would remain intact.
Or so I believed.
———
My apartment was quiet in the way only post-call nights ever were.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, hair twisted into a loose bun, scrubs exchanged for an oversized sweatshirt and cotton pajama pants.
My laptop rested in front of me. I'd meant to skim research papers before bed.
Instead, I'd clicked on a live-stream replay I pretended was purely curiosity and fascination.
Yet, I kept zooming at Daxton Anderson's face.
He was the richest, most successful businessman in the entire country, as well as the most eligible bachelor. He was basically almost every girl's crush, including mine.
I had spent years fantasising about having a tall, handsome, authoritative and intelligent man in a suit as my significant other, and the day my eyes landed on Daxton Anderson—the search seemed to end.
Except, he was a popular, irresistibly dashing billionaire who probably wouldn't even cast a second glance at me.
I mean, our paths weren't even inclined to cross.
I watched him with hearts in my eyes as he talked. Crisp, tailored suit. Dark tie. Controlled posture. He sat under studio lights like he belonged there—unbothered, precise and composed. Every word he spoke was measured, confident, stripped of excess. He was effortlessly perfect in every aspect.
I leaned forward without realizing it.
"...innovation with responsibility," he was saying. "Technology should improve lives, not complicate them."
My lips curved despite myself.
Everyone admired Daxton Anderson. It was impossible not to. He wasn't just the country's most powerful tech CEO, he was a presence. Someone who didn't chase attention yet commanded it effortlessly.
What I absolutely adored about him was the many donations he had made to our hospital. Funding new fetal monitors. Sponsoring free medical treatments and surgeries for the underprivileged. Supporting resident training programs.
He didn't plaster his generosity across headlines. He didn't make speeches about it. He simply... did it. Without making a big deal out of it.
I found it endearing. That he used a significant portion of his fortune for good cause.
It prompted me to think that he was way more than that cold persona he carried around. There had to be more depth to his personality, to his character than just control, precision and unwavering confidence.
I hugged my knees closer to my chest.
It was ridiculous, really. A crush built from interviews and numbers on a donation ledger.
And okay, yes, his breathtakingly gorgeous looks.
From a man who existed in glass towers and boardrooms while I lived between delivery rooms and night shifts.
Still, something about him made my chest feel warm and tight all at once.
The interviewer thanked him. The broadcast wrapped. His image lingered for a second before the screen went dark.
I exhaled, embarrassed by how long I'd been staring.
"Get it together, Ayra." I murmured to myself.
My phone rang.
The sudden sound made me jump. I glanced at the screen.
It was the head of gynaecology/obstetrics department.
"Hello, m'am?" I answered instantly.
"Dr. Ayra, I know you're post-call. I hope I'm not disturbing." She spoke warmly.
"It's perfectly alright, ma'am. Is something wrong?"
"Everything's fine. I need to talk to you about something. Have you heard of the upcoming Anderson Global Tech Conference?" She said.
I blinked, my heart standing still for a second. "Y-yes?"
"There's a partnership being announced between our hospital and Anderson Technologies. Integrated medical data systems, AI-assisted diagnostics, patient privacy infrastructure—the works." A pause. "We have to send a representative from our department. The board chose you."
My spine straightened. "Me?" I whispered, certain I'd misheard.
"You're the valedictorian of your batch. First-year resident, yet consistently the highest-performing doctor on our service. You handle pressure, patients trust you, and you represent this hospital exceptionally well."
My throat tightened.
"This conference is elite," she continued. "International delegates. Investors. Policy leaders. You'll be there for the full week. Accommodation is at the Royal Crest."
The most exclusive hotel in the country. Oh. My. God.
I pressed my fingers into my palm, grounding myself. "I... I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this at all."
"You'll do great, I'm certain." She said reassuringly.
My eyes landed back on my laptop screen where I had just been ogling Daxton Anderson, and now... this. The irony wasn't lost on me.
What in the world?
"I'll email you the details. Good night, Doctor." With that, she hung up.
I stayed frozen on my bed, phone still pressed to my ear, my heartbeat loud in the silence.
A week. At the most elite hotel in the country. Attending a conference hosted by... him. Getting to see him in person.
Slowly, my phone dropped from my hand, nerves and excitement tangling together in my chest.
I was just a resident. A doctor learning as she went, finding her confidence one shift at a time.
And yet, I had the strange, undeniable feeling that I was standing at the edge of something much bigger than a conference.
Something that would blur the careful lines between worlds.
Between suits and scrubs.
And I had no idea yet... just how close those worlds were about to come.