David stood in the spacious yet empty room on the third floor of the building that Ben envisioned transforming into a bustling law firm. The air was filled with the sounds of construction as a few workers busily focused on breaking down walls, their tools clattering rhythmically against the concrete. Ben's ambitious plan involved expanding one of the existing spaces to create a well-organized storage room for crucial case files and documents, as well as establishing a server room equipped with state-of-the-art cables and internet servers to ensure seamless connectivity for the new office.

Despite David's limited knowledge of architecture and design, he had brought in Nathan, a skilled architect and one of his closest friends, to navigate the complexities of renovation. Yet, for reasons that David couldn’t quite comprehend, Ben insisted on having him by his side throughout the process. In the short span of a few weeks, a bond had formed between them, and it perplexed David that Ben seemed to trust him more than anyone else involved in the project. This unexpected responsibility had thrust David into the role of overseer for the renovation, a position that felt both daunting and oddly gratifying.

Having recently completed the purchase and renovation of Sarah's boutique, David was now dedicating his full attention to shaping Ben's law firm. Today promised to be particularly overwhelming. Not only was he tasked with supervising the expansion of the storage room, but he also had to ensure that the interior design team—led by the talented Margaret Blackson—was making progress. Balancing the logistical demands required to coordinate the decorators while keeping their safety a priority amid the ongoing renovations added to the weight on his shoulders.

To compound his challenges, Ben had asked David to keep an eye on Scott, Ben's stepbrother, who was notorious for his lack of initiative and follow-through. Trust was a scarce resource in Ben's eyes where Scott was concerned, which made David's involvement all the more crucial. With so many responsibilities resting on his plate, David felt a mix of pressure and purpose as he stepped forward, ready to tackle the day's demanding tasks.

***

By noon, David made his way to Ben's office, navigating through the cacophony of construction noise that reverberated throughout the building. Despite the clamorous environment created by the contractors, Ben had opted to come into the office to tackle some pressing tasks. David couldn’t quite fathom why someone would choose to work amid such distraction rather than in the peace of their own home, where focus could be found more easily.

As he walked down the quiet, somewhat sterile halls of the fourth floor, his footsteps echoed ominously, heightening the solitude of the space. His mind drifted to thoughts of his cousin, Shelley, and he marvelled at how she had managed to forge a connection with a man like Ben. Driven and fiercely passionate about his work, Ben had a reputation for his unwavering loyalty to those he trusted; once that bond was established, he was committed to seeing things through to the end. David found himself grappling with how they had grown close in such a short amount of time as if the rapid pace of their relationship was somehow both remarkable and perplexing.

Reaching the entrance to Ben's office, David hesitated for just a moment before knocking lightly on the door, awaiting the invitation to enter. A clear voice beckoned from within.

"You can come in."

Pushing the door open, David stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him, ensuring the outside noise was contained.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Adams," he greeted, maintaining a sense of professionalism.

Ben looked up from his laptop, his eyes meeting David’s as he smiled and offered a nod of acknowledgement.

"Good afternoon, David. Is something wrong?"

David, momentarily taken aback by the directness of Ben’s query, quickly responded, "No, sir! I'm here to update you on today's activities. I thought you would like to be briefed on how the renovation is progressing."

Ben paused his work, turning his full attention to David, his expression shifting to one of mild surprise.

"David," he said, his tone firm yet amicable, "when I asked you to oversee the renovation of this building, I did not expect you to keep me constantly in the loop. I trust your judgment and am confident in your ability to handle everything efficiently before the deadline. Also, I distinctly remember requesting that you call me by my first name, not 'sir.'"

He continued, "You're welcome to come to me when you need my opinion on specifics pertaining to room designs or if you require additional funds. Otherwise, I don’t need regular updates. You are in charge. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course, Ben. I apologize; I just wanted to keep you informed," David replied, appreciating the clarity of Ben's expectations. He turned to leave but paused midway, remembering something important. "By the way, your stepbrother is doing remarkably well. He has been incredibly supportive in executing the tasks assigned to him and is proving himself quite capable. I think it might be time to trust him with more responsibilities."

A smile broke across Ben's face at the mention of Scott. "Very well, then. I will consider that. However, I would appreciate it if we could keep the fact that Scott is my stepbrother just between us. I’d rather not create any misconceptions among the team."

"Of course. As you wish," David replied, understanding the delicate nature of the office dynamics. With that, he exited, leaving Ben to his work in the midst of the backdrop of construction noise.

                                  _

Shelley was grinning from cheek to cheek after she hung up the phone with Ben. The news was thrilling—he was coming over for dinner at her place! With butterflies in her stomach, she hopped excitedly into the kitchen, determined to impress him with one of her favourite tribal dishes: peanut Abomu, served with fluffy yam, richly seasoned avocado, and perfectly boiled eggs. As she eagerly washed her hands at the sink, still bubbling with anticipation, her phone rang unexpectedly.

"What now?" she muttered, drying her hands on a kitchen napkin as she made her way to the phone.

"Good evening, Mabel. It’s a surprise to hear from you at this hour. I hope everything is okay," Shelley greeted, her voice filled with genuine concern.

However, Mabel’s voice was thick with anger and frustration. "Everything is not okay! Why do bad things keep happening to me? Who did I wrong in my previous life?"

Shelley could immediately sense the distress in her friend’s tone, her heart sinking with worry. "What’s going on, Mabel? Please, talk to me."

"It's Frederick," Mabel shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. "He ambushed me at my workplace yesterday. At first, he was all nice and sweet, apologizing for everything he's done, begging for my forgiveness. But when I shut him down, he switched tactics. He started making these ridiculous claims about James, saying he’s his son too. I can’t shake the feeling that he wants to take James away, to have him for himself and his so-called philanthropist wife. What am I supposed to do, Shelley? Am I overthinking this?"

Shelley let out a heavy sigh, her mind racing as she processed Mabel's words. "No, I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. I mean, why now? All those years, he never bothered to reach out to you or even acknowledge James. And suddenly, he’s interested? It sounds suspicious."

Mabel’s voice dropped, laced with uncertainty. "It’s like I don’t know what his intentions are, but I feel like I need to take precautions. Maybe I should consider legal action to make sure he can’t just come in and claim James."

"You’re right to be cautious," Shelley affirmed. "You should definitely protect yourself and your son. Have you thought about consulting a lawyer?"

"I guess that makes sense," Mabel replied, her voice softer. "Do you think Ben might be able to help me, or at least know someone who can?"

"It wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him," Shelley suggested. "I’m sure he’ll want to listen and support you. I would offer to ask him myself, but I don’t want to put him in a position where he feels obligated to help just because we’re dating."

"I understand," Mabel said, a hint of relief in her voice. "Can you send me his number so I can call him tomorrow?"

"Of course," Shelley replied, feeling a bit of weight lift off her friend’s shoulders.

As she pulled the phone from her ear, Shelley scrolled through her contacts, her heart aching for Mabel. Once she found the number, she quickly forwarded it to her friend.

"I just sent it," Shelley said, her voice steady and reassuring. "Try not to worry too much about this. We’ll figure it out together."

"Thank you so much, Shelley. I’ll let you know how the conversation goes when I talk to Ben. Good night."

"Good night, Mabel. Remember, you’re not alone in this."