Love lies and a billionaire’s secret

CHAPTER THIRTY–TWO–A DEMANDING DIVA

“What can we do? We’re just janitors,” someone muttered from the back of the group.

Nia’s eyes flashed with passion. “We’re not just anything. We’re essential to this company’s functioning. Without us, this place would fall apart in a week. We keep things clean, safe, and running smoothly. That has value.”

Old Man Barnaby spoke up, his voice gravelly but strong. “Nia’s right. And I’ve got an idea to add to her plan. We should document every single task we do, no matter how small. Changing a lightbulb, restocking supplies, all of it.”

Nia nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! We need to create a detailed log of our work and its impact. Rosa, could you track the supplies we use? That’ll help show how efficient we are.”

Rosa hesitated, then nodded. “I can do that. I’m good with numbers.”

“Great,” Nia continued. “Jim, you’ve been here the longest. Could you document any special requests from other departments? That’ll show how flexible and responsive we are.”

Jim uncrossed his arms, a glimmer of interest in his eyes. “Yeah, I can handle that. I know every department in this place.”

“111 compile all the data and create reports,” Nia said. “We’ll meet weekly to share our findings and adjust our strategy if needed.”

As the group began to disperse, there was a newfound energy in the air. People were talking animatedly, discussing ideas and strategies. Nia felt a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could make a difference.

Old Man Barnaby hung back, approaching Nia as she climbed down from her makeshift podium. “That was some speech, kid. You’ve got a real fire in you.”

Nia smiled, feeling a mix of determination and anxiety. Thanks, Barnaby. I just hope it’s enough.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s a start. And sometimes, that’s all you need.”

As the last of her colleagues left the parking lot, Nia stayed behind, sitting on the curb with her laptop. She began creating a template for their documentation, her fingers flying over the keys as she worked

The task ahead was enormous, she knew. They were up against corporate bureaucracy, budget constraints, and possibly even the CEO himself. But as she looked up at the Colossius Tech building looming above her, its windows glowing in the twilight, Nia felt a spark of defiance.

She had faced worse odds before. She had survived prison, rebuilt her life from scratch. This was just another challenge to overcome.

A cool breeze ruffled her hair, carrying the scent of impending rain. Nia took a deep breath, savoring the moment of calm before the storm. Whatever happened next, she was ready to face it head–on.

As she worked, her mind wandered to Leon Allistair. Did he know about these cuts? Did he care about the impact they would have on people’s lives? For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine confronting him, telling him the truth about who she was and what his decision meant.

But she pushed the thought aside. That was a risk she couldn’t afford to take, not when so much was at stake. For now, she had to focus on the task at hand, on helping her colleagues and proving their worth. The first drops of rain began to fall, pattering softly on the pavement around her. Nia closed her laptop,

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO A DEMANDING DIVA

gathering her things as the storm rolled in. As she walked to her car, she felt a sense of purpose she hadn’t experienced in years.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for the first time in a long time, Nia felt ready to face them. She had found her voice again, and she wasn’t about to let it be silenced.

Nia’s small apartment in Queens was a chaotic mess of papers, sticky notes, and empty coffee cups. The air was thick with the scent of stale caffeine and the faint musty odor of old pizza boxes. In the dim light of her cramped living room, Nia and Hella sat hunched over their laptops, the blue glow of the screens casting eerie shadows on their tired faces.

“How’s that pie chart coming along, Helia?” Nia asked, rubbing her bleary eyes.

Helia leaned back, stretching her arms above her head. “Almost done. Just tweaking the colors to make it really pop. Take a look.”

Nia scooted her chair closer, squinting at the screen. The chart showed the percentage of the company budget allocated to janitorial services compared to other departments. It was a stark visual

representation of how little they were valued.

“That’s perfect,” Nia nodded approvingly. “It really drives home our point.”

Helia beamed, proud of her work. “Thanks. I think it’ll make a big impact. How’s your speech coming along?”

Nia grimaced, running a hand through her tangled hair. I’m still struggling with the opening. Mind if I practice on you?”

“Go for it,” Hella encouraged, turning away from her laptop to give Nia her full attention.

Clearing her throat, Nia began, “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I stand before you today to address a seem like a critical issue facing our company. The proposed budget cuts to the janitorial department may simple cost–saving measure, but I assure you, the ramifications will be felt throughout the entire organization.”

She paused, frowning. “No, that sounds too formal. Let me try again.”

Helia nodded encouragingly. “It’s a good start. Maybe try to make it more personal?”

Nia took a deep breath and started over. “Imagine walking into Colossius Tech on a Monday morning. The lobby is spotless, the elevators gleaming, your office ready for a productive day. Now imagine that same scenario, but with overflowing trash cans, dusty surfaces, and bathrooms you’d rather avoid. That’s the reality we’re facing if these budget cuts go through.”

“Much better,” Helia said with a smile. “It paints a vivid picture.”

Nia continued practicing, stumbling over words as fatigue set in. It was 2 AM, and they’d been at it for hours. Coffee cups littered the small coffee table, testament to their marathon session.

As Hella adjusted the color scheme on a bar graph, Nia’s mind wandered. “You know,” she said absentmindedly, “this kind of reminds me of preparing for my parole hearing.”

The room went silent. The only sound was the soft hum of their laptops and the distant honk of a car horn from the street below. Helia looked up, confusion and concern etched on her face.

Nia froze, realizing her slip–up. Her heart began to race as she saw the questions forming in Helia’s eyes.

“Parole hearing?” Helia asked hesitantly. “What do you mean?”

Nia’s mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation, “Oh, uh, I meant… my cousin’s parole hearing. Yeah, I helped him prepare for it last year. It was a whole thing, you know?”