Melissa sat at the edge of her bed, still in her silk robe, her laptop resting on her thighs and a cup of herbal tea slowly cooling on the side table. She wasn't looking at the screen. Her mind was far away, somewhere between the sting of betrayal and the ache of longing.
Two feelings that had become her constant companions lately.
Tsholo and Max.
She had not spoken to either since the scene at Eclipse Lounge. The image of Tsholo holding Max's hand, the same Max who had once kissed her belly like it held the sun, still lingered like smoke in her chest.
"Trust is such a fragile thing," she murmured to herself.
Then, her phone buzzed.
She didn't recognize the number. The country code was local, but the digits didn't belong to anyone in her immediate circle. She hesitated before answering.
"Melissa Kgomotso," she said, her voice smooth but wary.
The voice on the other end was crisp, assertive, and oddly familiar. "Ms. Kgomotso. Good morning. My name is Jonathan Tema, Senior Director at Botho Group's Mergers and Acquisitions Division. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."
Melissa's heart skipped. "Botho Group?" she repeated, her voice tighter than intended.
"Yes, ma'am. We've been following your company's growth for a while. FireThreads has made waves especially with the upcoming maternity fashion showcase. We admire your brand positioning and thought leadership, particularly in a market space that's rarely tapped into."
Melissa leaned forward. Her tea forgotten. Her robe slipping from her shoulder. "I'm listening."
Jonathan's voice was calm, professional. "There's a new opening within our Lifestyle and Retail portfolio. A strategic partner pulled out, and we're now considering alternatives. This division is one of Botho Group's most promising growth pillars. We think your company or rather, you might be a good fit. We're offering a 12% equity stake in the division for strategic collaboration and creative input. It's a lot to consider, but we wanted you to hear it first."
Melissa's fingers trembled slightly as she clicked open her notebook. Her instincts screamed opportunity and danger.
"And does Max Botho know about this?" she asked, coolly.
A beat.
"No," Jonathan said. "Not yet. This discussion is off the books for now. The board respects your acumen and wants to explore it independently. But, eventually, yes he'll be looped in. We believe in transparency. But we also believe he may not be... the most objective voice at the moment."
Melissa chuckled softly. "You could say that again."
Jonathan's tone didn't shift, but there was something in it respect, maybe. "Would you be open to a private exploratory meeting? Just you and two of our senior strategists. We want to learn more about your long-term goals. And whether FireThreads is ready to play in the big league."
Melissa's mind spun. For a moment, she saw Max's face not the one in love, but the one full of pride, daring anyone to outwit him. And she felt something stir in her—a quiet, thrilling defiance.
"I'm available," she said. "Set it up."
After she hung up, she just sat there, breathing.
For the first time in weeks, the weight in her chest felt... different.
Not lighter. But charged. Ready.
Downstairs, Rama emerged from the guest room with a sketchpad tucked under his arm. He saw her in the living room her face aglow with something new.
"You look like you just won a war," he said, pouring himself some juice.
Melissa turned toward him, her eyes alive. "Not yet. But the battlefield just got interesting."
Rama raised a brow. "Do I get to ask what's happening?"
"No," she said, walking past him. "Not yet. But soon."
She spent the rest of the morning in her home office, phone pressed to her ear, speaking to her lawyer and her business mentor in South Africa, then to her stylist, then to her PA (a new one, thank God, named Dineo, not another Tsholo in sight).
Every conversation was precise. Sharp and focused.
By early afternoon, Lorato popped in, unannounced, holding two strawberry smoothies and a suspiciously knowing grin.
"You look like a woman with secrets," Lorato teased, flopping onto the sofa.
"I might be," Melissa said, accepting the smoothie. "But they're good ones."
Lorato leaned in, her grin widening. "Does it involve revenge, power, or a killer outfit?"
Melissa laughed for the first time that day. "All three."
They toasted with their drinks. "To comebacks," Melissa said.
"To kicking their crusty behinds into the dirt," Lorato added.
That evening, as the city began to glitter with golden dusk, Melissa stood on her private balcony, staring out over Gaborone. The wind played with her curls, and the lights of the world below flickered like stars.
She touched her belly and whispered, "We're building something bigger than all of them."
And this time, when her phone buzzed again with an unknown number, she didn't hesitate.
She was ready because christmas is coming early!