Drake was sitting in his office, his eyes fixed on a photo in his hand, lost in thought.
Suddenly, his assistant, Kian, walked in and said,
"Sir, you have a meeting in fifteen minutes".
Startled, but hiding it quickly, Drake slipped the photo into a book lying on his table, pretending like nothing had happened. He nodded calmly and replied,
"Alright. Send me the files."
Kian gave a small nod and left the room.
Drake stood up, buttoned his coat perfectly, picked up his cup of tea, and walked toward the glass window. He stood there, looking out at the city, sipping his tea silently, lost again in his own world.
Two minutes before the meeting
Drake walked into the meeting room.
The moment he entered, everyone stood up as a sign of respect. Drake gave a slight nod, his expression serious, and made his way to the head of the long table. He buttoned his coat again, adjusted his watch, and sat down gracefully.
The meeting began. One of the senior members, Mr. Lewis, stood up with a folder in his hand and said,
"Sir, today we are proposing a new product for launch — a luxury smartwatch series called EonEdge. It's designed with sapphire glass, titanium casing, and unique health tracking features that haven't been introduced yet in the market. Our plan is to target high-end customers who want both technology and prestige."
Everyone listened carefully as Lewis continued, explaining:
"The marketing strategy is simple — an exclusive reveal event, celebrity endorsements, and a limited first batch to create hype. We believe it can become the next big thing in the luxury tech world."
While Lewis spoke, Drake sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest, thinking deeply.
He appreciated the innovation, but his mind weighed the risks too.
After Lewis finished, Drake glanced around the table and said in his deep, commanding voice,
"I want everyone's opinion. Speak freely."
A woman sitting to the left, Ms. Carter, spoke first,
"I believe it's a bold move. The market is hungry for innovation like this. If we handle the launch right, it can set us apart."
Next, Mr. Daniels, a cautious strategist, added,
"It's impressive, but the high production cost and limited target audience might be risky. We should have a backup plan if the response isn't strong."
Another junior executive, Mia, jumped in excitedly,
"Sir, the design is stunning. If we emphasize the exclusivity and craftsmanship, it will appeal to the elite buyers. I think it's worth the risk."
Kian, standing near Drake quietly until now, added carefully,
"Sir, from a business point of view, the margins are excellent, but we need to be prepared for slower early sales. Luxury products take time to gain momentum."
Drake listened to each voice, his expression unreadable.
He folded his hands together and leaned forward slightly, still staring at the file on the table, deep in thought.
After everyone finished speaking, the room fell silent, all eyes on Drake, waiting for his decision.
He slowly closed the file in front of him, set his tea aside, and spoke in a firm, thoughtful tone:
"The idea is strong. The product has potential, and the market needs something fresh. But remember — luxury demands perfection. No mistakes. No second chances."
He looked at each team member sharply before continuing,
"We move forward with the EonEdge launch. However, I want two things — first, a detailed risk assessment report by tomorrow morning. Second, a revised marketing strategy that includes a discreet pre-launch for select clients to test the waters before the full public reveal."
There was a soft murmur of agreement around the table.
Drake then turned his gaze toward Kian and said,
"Kian, schedule a private review with the design team. I want to personally inspect the prototype before it goes into production."
kian nodded immediately,
"Yes, sir."
The meeting ended, and everyone returned to their work.
Drake stayed back in his office, checking the current rates and profits of the already launched products, his eyes sharp and calculating.
Meanwhile, Kian sat at his desk nearby, typing swiftly on his computer, finishing up the reports for the day.
As the work finally neared its end, Drake stood up, stretching his arms slightly.
Kian quickly gathered the files and followed him.
They both walked toward the private lift and descended silently.
Once they reached the parking lot, Kian hurried ahead and opened the car door for Drake.
Drake got in without a word, and Kian moved to the driver's seat, starting the car smoothly.
As they drove towards Drake's home, the city lights passing by the window, Drake's gaze wandered outside.
He suddenly noticed a group of boys wearing St. Claire's Academy uniforms, laughing and pushing each other near a bus stop.
The sight hit him unexpectedly —
A flood of old memories rushed into his mind, uninvited and heavy
Drake leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him.
The decision was made — but the responsibility now weighed heavier than before.
Drake leaned back in his seat, the soft hum of the car and the cool breeze from the AC making his eyelids heavy.
Within minutes, he drifted off to sleep, lost in his thoughts.
Past Story:
(View: St. Claire's Academy — School Ground)
The sun was bright over the school grounds.
A group of senior boys lounged around, owning the place like kings. Some leaned casually on their bikes, while others were slouched on the benches nearby, laughing, trolling juniors, and joking around freely.
Among them, sitting on a sleek black bike, was Drake — and he stood out without even trying.
He was handsome in a way that made everyone stop and stare — gym-trained, fit body that filled out his uniform shirt perfectly, a clean, sharp taper fade haircut, and a fresh, clean shave that made his already perfect jawline look even sharper.
Every move he made screamed effortless charm.
He was the kind of guy people couldn't help but look at — girls whispered about him constantly, admired him from a distance, but Drake?
He barely cared.
A smirk, a quick wink — that's all he ever gave them. He didn't take anyone seriously.
Nearby, his friend Zayn — playful and always ready to start some drama — called out to him, teasingly:
"Hey, Drake! It's your chance, bro. Go ask them who hit Ben!"
He nodded toward a small group of nervous juniors standing near the library steps.
Drake swung one leg off his bike casually, standing up.
His eyes, sharp and confident, locked onto the group.
The air around him changed — cool, intimidating, and unshakable.
Drake pushed his hands into his pockets, his walk slow and relaxed, yet every step carried weight.
The juniors, seeing him approach, started fidgeting nervously, exchanging glances.
Stopping right in front of them, Drake tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze scanning each face.
His voice was calm but firm as he spoke,
Drake: "Who hit Ben?"
He didn't shout. He didn't need to. His presence was enough to make their hearts race.
The group stayed silent, eyes darting everywhere but at him.
One of the boys, trying to act brave, muttered,
Junior 1: "We... we don't know what you're talking about, bro."
Drake gave a small, humorless smile, stepping just a little closer.
Drake: "You sure about that?"
His voice dropped lower, a subtle warning hidden behind those smooth words.
From the bench, Zayn chuckled and called out loudly,
Zayn: "Don't make him ask twice, boys!"
Feeling the pressure, another junior finally cracked and stammered,
Junior 2: "It... it was Jason, sir. He pushed Ben near the canteen."
Drake raised an eyebrow lazily and nodded once,
Drake: "Good boys. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
He turned around smoothly, walking back to his bike like he owned the whole ground.
As he reached Zayn, who was grinning wide, Drake smirked and said,
Drake: "Problem solved."
Zayn burst out laughing, slapping Drake on the back,
Zayn: "Man, you're terrifying without even trying."
Drake just shrugged, throwing one leg over his bike again, that same effortless confidence in every move.
Drake sat back on his bike, tapping his fingers lightly on the handlebar, thinking.
Zayn leaned closer and said with a mischievous grin,
Zayn: "Cafeteria. Jason always hides there after pulling his stunts."
Without another word, Drake nodded, and both of them headed toward the cafeteria.
Before entering, they made sure to bring Ben along with them — the poor guy who had been pushed earlier.
As they walked through the corridor, more of their friends — Caleb, Lucas, and Levi — spotted them and quickly joined.
One look at Drake's serious face, and they understood without needing an explanation.
Caleb: "What's the plan, bro?"
Drake: (coldly) "Teach Jason some manners."
All of them exchanged quick grins and followed Drake's lead.
Inside the cafeteria, Jason was sitting casually with his friends, laughing over something stupid.
The moment he noticed Drake and his squad walking straight toward him, his face paled slightly, but he tried to act tough.
Drake stopped right in front of Jason's table, arms crossed, towering over him.
The whole cafeteria grew quiet, sensing the tension.
Drake: (calm but dangerous) "Stand up."
Jason scoffed, trying to save face in front of his friends,
Jason: "What for? I didn't do anything."
Zayn cracked his knuckles loudly and grinned,
Zayn: "Wrong answer, bro".
Without any warning, Drake grabbed Jason by the collar and shoved him against the table hard enough to rattle the trays.
Jason's friends backed away immediately.
Jason struggled,
Jason: "Hey! Let go!"
Instead, Zayn stepped in and landed a hard punch to Jason's stomach, making him double over.
Lucas and Levi blocked the exits casually, making sure no one interfered.
Ben stood behind Drake, watching everything wide-eyed.
Drake: (his voice low, almost a whisper) "Apologize to Ben."
Jason wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and spat on the floor, still stubborn.
Jason: "Tch. No way."
Wrong move.
Drake tightened his grip and slammed Jason once again against the table.
Then he threw a sharp punch across Jason's jaw, followed by a quick hit from Zayn.
Jason, now coughing and completely shaken, realized he had no choice.
In a broken, hoarse voice, Jason finally muttered,
Jason: "S-sorry... Ben. I'm sorry, man..."
Drake watched him for a second longer, making sure it was genuine, then finally let go of his collar.
Drake: (coldly) "Next time, think twice."
Without another glance, Drake turned around and walked out of the cafeteria with his squad following him, leaving Jason humiliated in front of everyone.
Drake, Zayn, Lucas, Caleb, and Levi walked casually through the hallway after the cafeteria incident.
After a few steps, Levi waved goodbye,
Levi: "I'm off. Dance practice calls, bros."
He jogged off towards the dance court.
Caleb looked at Ben and said,
Caleb: "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
He led Ben toward the restroom, checking if he was okay.
Now it was just Drake, Zayn, and Lucas walking through the hallway, talking and laughing casually about random things.
Suddenly, as they turned a corner, Drake's shoulder collided with someone — a girl.
Her books slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor.
She immediately knelt down, quickly gathering her books.
But she didn't even look up. No apology. Nothing.
Drake looked down at her, sharp and unimpressed, and said coldly,
Drake: "Say sorry."
The girl stood up, hugging her books, and looked at him — her face completely confused, not scared at all.
She raised her eyebrows and said seriously,
Girl: "Seriously? You're the one who hit me and now you're asking me to say sorry? Huh? Really?"
Drake didn't move, didn't blink. His voice steady and low, he just repeated,
Drake: "Say sorry."
The girl let out an annoyed sigh, rolled her eyes dramatically, and said,
Girl: "Urgh, whatever. I have no time to waste."
Then, she added sarcastically with a funny tone,
Girl: "I'm really sorry for hitting your precious shoulder, boss."
Without waiting for his reaction, she spun around and walked past him casually, leaving Drake staring after her, slightly... stunned.
Watching her walking away confidently, Drake narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath to Lucas,
Drake: "Who the fuck is that girl?"
Lucas shrugged,
Lucas: "I think she's new... I don't know."
Zayn laughed, slapping Drake lightly on the back,
Zayn: "No bro, she's not new. Her name's Hazel Knight. She was here before, then transferred out, and now she's back."
He shook his head,
Zayn: "Stupid girl."
Drake kept his eyes on Hazel's disappearing figure, something about her attitude bothering him__