Chapter 23 #2
Because it wasn’t just sex. It was confusion. Longing. History and something she still hadn’t made sense of. “Anyway.” Sabine stifled a laugh, then waved her off. “Focus, Nar. You’ve got a whole algorithm to build.”
“Fine, fine.” Narri raised her hands in surrender. “But let me know when we’r having a girls’ night because I got questions.”
Sabine rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.
She looked out her office window for a beat, heart full, head spinning.
She was building something real. Something rooted in trust, brilliance, and the women she believed in.
Even with the men circling. Even with the past looming.
This? This was hers and she wasn’t about to let anyone—ex, maybe-lover—take that from her or distract her from it.
“Alright, last update before we break,” Sabine said, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the projector screen behind her flicked to the final slide. “Q2 onboarding projections, Narri?”
Narri clicked into the shared doc, posture pristine, her low bun still smooth even after three hours of back-to-back numbers.
“Based on our current pipeline and adjusted metrics from DevOps, we should meet our user cap by the end of May, assuming QA hits their sprint targets on time. That gives us a two-week cushion ahead of the launch.” She tapped her stylus against her tablet. “Retention is our next battleground.”
“Conversion rate’s solid,” Malik chimed in. “But we’re still losing them in that second week lull.”
“That’s where Aderra Academy comes in,” Harlan added from Sabine’s right. “Tutorials, walkthroughs, first-week live support. They sign on because it’s innovative. They stay if we teach them how to make it indispensable.”
Everyone nodded. Sabine stole a glance across the table.
Harlan didn’t just speak with authority, he spoke with care.
Like everything tied back to people, not just profit and lately, it was hard not to notice how often he looked at her after he made a point.
Like he wanted her reaction before anyone else's.
Narri clocked it too. She didn’t say anything, not out loud. Just lifted one brow in that knowing way of hers and bit the inside of her cheek like she was fighting a grin.
Harlan tapped his pen lightly, drawing her back. “If we get marketing those beta test testimonials by Friday, the campaign can pivot in real time with the launch.”
“Already on it,” Malik confirmed. “But I need a final call on rollout tiers. One platform first, or simultaneous push across mobile and web?”
Sabine glanced around the room. The team was locked in. Tired, yes but this was the good kind. The kind of tired that came with building something that could actually last. That mattered.
“Web and mobile together,” she said. “We’ve kept our test subjects in the loop this whole time. We don’t start staggering now. We go bold.”
That earned a few quiet “mmm’s” and nods. Even Harlan gave a low approving hum. Sabine sat back for a moment, watching the flow of the room.
Aderra wasn’t a dream anymore—it was a whole damn movement.
She saw it in Narri’s sparkle that came back with every day she showed up for work, Malik’s tapped-in brilliance, the young engineer across the table bouncing his leg in excitement.
She saw it in herself too. The woman she was now.
Not just Adair’s ex or Ade’s mom or the dependable team lead.
She was building something.
Something hers.
Malik shuffled some notes, then glanced between her and Harlan again. “Y’all make a good team,” he said casually, but the skepticism behind his eyes was anything but light. “This rollout’s gonna be smooth with both of you leading.”
Sabine looked up slowly. Harlan didn’t say anything, just leaned back in his chair, hands folded, giving her space to respond. “Thanks,” she said, tone even. “We’re aligned on the vision.”
Narri blinked slowly, then smirked behind her water bottle.
“Alright, let’s wrap this up for the day,” Sabine announced. She let the meeting fade into chatter as people began to gather their things and unplug their laptops but her eyes stayed on Malik for a second longer because what he said wasn’t just about teamwork.
He saw it too—Harlan’s obvious admiration for her.
As everyone started gathering their tablets and empty cups, Narri leaned over and whispered, “You want me to wait for you?”
Sabine shook her head gently, already distracted by the five Slack notifications lighting up her screen. “No, that’s okay, I’m good. Go ahead. I’ll be a while.”
“You sure?” Narri asked, giving her a subtle look that read like code. The one that asked, you need backup?
“I’m sure,” Sabine said with a small smile. “Thanks though.”
Narri gave a little nod and headed out with the rest of the team. Sabine waited until the room cleared, then stood and walked slowly back to her office, the hallway quieter now that the day was winding down. She shut the door behind her, breathing out.
The meeting had been productive, but the quiet now was much appreciated. She barely had time to sit before there was a knock and then the door opened anyway. Malik stepped inside and closed it behind him.
“You need something?” she asked, and he didn’t answer at first. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
“So, how was your date?”
“What date? What are you talking about?”
Malik arched a brow, too smug for her taste. “People talk, Sabine. I know you went out with Harlan.”
“Then you should also know that’s my business and none of yours.”
He took a slow step closer. “So you can go and be a whore for him to get your program but not—”
Sabine didn’t even let him finish. “And I will stop you right the fuck there.” Her finger lifted in his direction.
Her voice didn’t rise, but it cut through the air with enough bite to pull his ass back to reality on just who in the hell he was talking to.
“No one…and I mean no one, could ever take credit for what I built. Whether I threw this pussy at him or not, Aderra is mine. My idea. My sleepless nights. My unpaid hours. My damn name on every single file from prototype to now.” Her eyes narrowed.
“If I were you, I’d turn your weak ass right back around and exit the way you came before this turns into something you are surely not ready for, Malik. ”
His mouth opened—then shut. Sabine leaned forward just slightly, her voice lower now.
“Make this the last time you find yourself alone with me and ever fix your mouth to come at me like that.”
Malik shifted, adjusting his jaw like he’d swallowed something too bitter. She stared at him until he finally backed up, opened the door, and stepped out. Sabine didn’t look away until the door clicked shut behind him.
Only then did she exhale, slow and steady. She sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and opened her laptop again like nothing had happened because nothing had, except her proving that she ran this. Period.
Sabine sat at her desk for another few minutes, trying to focus—trying to re-center but her heart was still pounding. Not with fear. Not with doubt. Just...rage. That slow-burning, bone-deep kind. The kind women like her carried all their lives and learned how to hide just enough to keep the peace.
She clicked open her email, then paused. Instead of typing, she reached for her phone. She’d been so caught up in everything, she hadn’t even checked in with Ade properly, but Adair had stepped in and made sure their son was extra loved in her absence. No questions. No guilt.
Hey. I just wanted to say thank you for picking up my slack with Ade lately. I promise to be more present, everything is just super busy but we’re almost there. I appreciate you so much.
The reply came quicker than she expected.
Adair: You’ve done it for me for years. I got you.
Sabine stared at the screen for a beat, her eyes softening. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t deep but it was consistent. He was consistent. At least with Ade. She tapped out a quiet reply.
Still. Thank you.
Another message popped up almost instantly.
Adair: Always.
Somehow, even through the chaos, that made her feel a little more grounded. Like no matter how complicated everything else got…when it came to their son, they were still a team.