C9 The Impossible Problem

Monday morning brought with it a quiet, suffocating disaster that threatened to rip the Mallik Empire apart at the seams.

When Sephora arrived at the top floor, the usual structured calm was entirely gone. Pushing through the heavy glass doors of the executive suite, she found Daniel standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. His tailored jacket was tossed haphazardly over a chair, his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and his jaw was set so tight the muscle pulsed visibly. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. He looked like a man who was fighting every violent urge to shatter the glass in front of him.

"What happened?" Sephora asked immediately, dropping her bag and stepping straight into his space without hesitation.

Daniel turned his head slowly, his dark eyes shadowed with a bleak, burning fury. "The government regulatory approval for the Ashford merger—the one we were assured was a mere formality. It’s been delayed. A minimum of six months. Potentially a year."

The air left Sephora’s lungs in a sharp gasp. Six months.

The entire financial backbone of the eight-billion-dollar acquisition had been meticulously built on a strict, twelve-week approval timeline. A six-month delay would completely decimate investor confidence. It would blow the doors wide open for aggressive competitors to swoop in, raise capital, and launch devastating counter-offers. A six-month delay didn't just mean a temporary setback—it meant losing the entire deal. It meant watching the crowning achievement of Daniel’s career disintegrate into dust.

"There has to be a way to accelerate it," Sephora said, her mind instantly racing through protocols, filing structures, and corporate loopholes, refusing to let panic take hold. "A fast-track provision, an emergency appeal—"

"There isn't," Daniel interrupted, his deep voice heavy, flat, and stripped of its usual magnetic certainty. "I’ve spent the last two hours on the phone with every high-ranking lobbyist, attorney, and political contact on our payroll. It doesn't matter how much capital we throw at it. The bureau is locked in protocol, and the process is what it is."

He turned back toward the window, looking genuinely defeated. It was a terrifying sight. This brilliant, formidable man who had effortlessly commanded a room full of skeptical billionaires just days prior was suddenly standing helpless, facing an unyielding bureaucratic wall that money could not buy down.

Sephora didn't hesitate. She walked over, pulled up a chair directly across from his massive walnut desk, and sat down. "Who directly oversees the special regulatory committee handling our sector?"

Daniel let out a cold, humorless breath. "Senator Richardson. But he’s an old-school political ideological purist, Simons. He isn't going to take frantic, backroom phone calls from an overly aggressive CEO trying to rush a deal. That isn't how he operates."

"Fine," Sephora said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the cool surface of his desk. "What about a personal connection? Someone who doesn't come with corporate baggage? Someone he actually respects on a human level?"

Daniel opened his mouth to dismiss the thought, but suddenly went completely still. His dark eyes widened slightly as a faint memory clicked into place. "My grandfather..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "He mentioned his time at Yale decades ago. Didn't he talk about a Richardson in his fraternity?"

"Yes!" Sephora’s eyes lit up with sudden intensity. "Your grandfather went to school with a Richardson. They were close friends back then. You told me yourself that they used to keep in touch."

"They were friends," Daniel corrected quietly, the spark of hope flickering. "Grandfather has been almost entirely out of touch with his old network since his health began declining."

"Not since his health declined—since he retired," Sephora pressed softly, her tone urgent yet deeply reassuring. "Daniel, think about it. What if you called him right now? Not as the cold, invincible CEO of the Mallik Empire looking for a corporate favor. Call him as his grandson. A personal, human call. Tell him about the impossible corner you're backed into. Ask him if he remembers Richardson... and if he might feel like reaching out to an old friend to catch up."

Daniel stared at her, frozen in place. The fog of overwhelming stress that had clouded his razor-sharp mind seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by a sudden, brilliant clarity.

"That..." Daniel swallowed, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. "That might actually work."

Without wasting another second, Daniel picked up his private line and dialed the facility. Sephora watched as the severe, defensive lines of his posture visibly softened the moment his grandfather’s raspy voice came over the speaker. Daniel explained the situation simply, honestly, and without a drop of corporate grandstanding—just a grandson laying out his heavy burden to the man who loved him.

Ten minutes later, the call ended. Edward Mallik was already on the phone with his personal directory, eager to reconnect with a piece of his past.

By 7:00 PM that evening, the miracle was delivered. Senator Richardson had personally reviewed the case file at Edward’s request, cutting through the red tape and placing the Ashford acquisition on an expedited, high-priority track.

Eight weeks instead of six months. The merger was back on track.

When Daniel finally walked out of his office later that night, the executive floor was silent and bathed in the soft glow of the city lights. He walked over to Sephora’s desk, standing over her with a look in his eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. It was a look of complete, unshielded awe.

"You saved the merger, Sephora," he said softly, using her real name with a weight that sent a tremor down her spine.

Sephora offered a modest, tired smile, gathering her notes. "You saved it. I just pointed out an option that was already sitting there."

"No," Daniel insisted, stepping closer until his shadow enveloped her desk. "I saw a brick wall, and I panicked. You saw a solution when I could only see obstacles. You thought of my grandfather when I was too consumed by stress to think at all." He reached down, his fingers gently brushing over hers where they rested on the desk. "You are absolute magic."

Later that night, riding the quiet subway train back to her apartment, Sephora leaned her head against the window, watching the tunnel lights blur past.

Holding her hand against her pounding chest, a terrifying, beautiful reality washed over her. She wasn't just casually falling for the cold, lonely billionaire hiding beneath the expensive suits anymore.

She was already completely, helplessly in love with him.

And as she remembered the fierce, protective warmth in his eyes when he had looked at her tonight, she knew the most dangerous truth of all: no matter how hard he tried to fight it, Daniel Mallik was falling too