Chapter 14
729 Words
Amelia had a routine.
Wake up.
Clean.
Avoid Ethan.
Code.
Sleep.
Repeat.
It was simple.
Predictable.
Safe.
And Amelia liked safe.
Safe meant no disappointments.
Safe meant no promises she couldn’t keep.
Safe meant no one taking away the only thing she had left.
TaskFlow.
The app she’d built from grief.
From sleepless nights.
From coffee.
From determination.
From promises.
The app she had never shown anyone.
Except Ethan.
She still couldn’t believe she’d done that.
The man owned a billion-dollar tech company.
He could easily rebuild it.
Improve it.
Launch it himself.
And she’d simply handed over years of work.
Trust was terrifying.
Trust made people vulnerable.
Trust got people hurt.
Her mother trusted rainy roads.
Her father trusted time.
She trusted promises.
And all three had failed.
Her phone buzzed.
A notification appeared.
Email.
Unknown sender.
Subject: Interested in TaskFlow
Amelia froze.
Her smile vanished.
She opened it.
Dear Founder,
I recently came across TaskFlow through an old beta testing directory.
I’ve spent the last two days reviewing the demo features.
I believe this product has tremendous potential.
I’d love to discuss investment opportunities.
Regards,
Daniel Foster
Managing Partner
Foster Ventures
Amelia blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No.
Impossible.
TaskFlow wasn’t public.
She never launched it.
She never pitched it.
She never advertised it.
How?
Then she remembered.
Three years ago.
Before becoming a maid.
Before Blackwood Estate.
Before exhaustion consumed her.
She’d uploaded a test version to a startup sandbox platform.
She forgot to take it down.
“Oh no.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh no.”
Margaret looked up.
“What happened?”
Amelia stood abruptly.
“Nothing.”
“Everything.”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“That’s helpful.”
Amelia handed over her phone.
Margaret read.
Then gasped.
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
“That’s investor language.”
“What?”
“He wants your baby.”
“It’s not a baby.”
“It’s software.”
“It’s your baby.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Absolutely.”
Amelia sighed.
Margaret grinned.
“You’re famous.”
“I’m terrified.”
“Same thing.”
Later that evening.
Ethan sat in his office.
Reviewing contracts.
Ignoring dinner.
Again.
A knock.
Amelia.
Nervous.
Holding her phone.
He immediately noticed.
She only looked like this when she was overwhelmed.
“What’s wrong?”
She hesitated.
Then handed over the phone.
He read.
Once.
Twice.
Then sat upright.
“When did this arrive?”
“Today.”
“How did he find it?”
“I uploaded a beta version years ago.”
“You forgot about it?”
“I was busy becoming employed.”
Silence.
Ethan stood.
Walked toward the window.
Thinking.
Analyzing.
Strategizing.
Finally—
He turned.
“Daniel Foster.”
“You know him?”
“Unfortunately.”
Amelia frowned.
“That’s bad?”
Ethan nodded.
“He’s smart.”
“He invests early.”
“But he buys control.”
“He likes founders who are desperate.”
She swallowed.
“I am desperate.”
“Exactly.”
“And that’s what worries me.”
She looked away.
MIT.
Lucas.
Bills.
Dreams.
Promises.
She was desperate.
And desperate people made dangerous decisions.
Ethan softened.
“Amelia.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t answer him.”
“Yet.”
She crossed her arms.
“Again?”
“You’re telling me what to do?”
“No.”
“I’m telling you to understand your value.”
“You spent four years building this.”
“Don’t let someone buy it in four minutes.”
Silence.
Then—
She asked quietly.
“What if he’s my only chance?”
Ethan smiled.
Slowly.
Confidently.
Almost arrogantly.
“He isn’t.”
She frowned.
“How do you know?”
He looked directly at her.
Because Amelia Hart—
The moment people discover what you’ve built—
They won’t just invest.
They’ll compete.
And for the first time—
Amelia realized something.
TaskFlow wasn’t just a dream anymore.
TaskFlow had become an opportunity.
And opportunities attracted attention.
Good attention.
Bad attention.
And dangerous attention.
Unfortunately—
Someone else had already started paying attention.
Someone watching startups.
Someone willing to steal ideas.
Someone willing to destroy founders.
And Amelia had no idea—
She had just stepped into a much bigger game
- Writer
