Michael Blair      

"Eve Rosette."

That got Mr. Blair's attention. His head lifted from the mess of papers in front of him, and for the first time, our eyes met.

His brown eyes were sharp, a mix of curiosity and fatigue, but there was something captivating about them — like he had seen too much, yet was still looking for more.

For a moment, the chaos of the room faded into the background.

He studied me carefully, his gaze steady and probing, as if trying to piece together why someone like me would be standing in front of his rundown lab.

His disheveled appearance, paired with the depth in his eyes, made him seem like a man who had been fighting uphill battles for far too long, but still had the fire to keep going.

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as a slow, deliberate smile crept across his face that seemed more like a scowl. "Eve Rosette . . . and what does the Rosette lady wants with me."

I beamed. "I want to invest in your nanobot project."

Michael's smile vanished, replaced by a deep frown. "You? An investor?"

I nodded, still smiling.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Go home, kid. I don't have time to babysit right now. I'm busy. Emily, show this princess the door."

My smile faltered. Being dismissed because of my age was getting old, and honestly, I was getting tired of it.

"Well, I can't blame you for being skeptical," I said, voice steady, "but isn't my name enough proof that I'm not joking?"

Michael snorted. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss Rosette. Shouldn't you be off chasing Cole Fay by now?"

My grin wavered. Even he knew about that? My love life was practically the favorite headline in every tabloid, especially in the entertainment world.

The newspapers were always filled with rumors of me chasing after Cole Fay, or worse, about how I was a disgrace to the Rosette name. It was getting tiresome, and I was honestly surprised people weren't bored of it yet.

Instead of taking offense, I let out a small laugh. "I see I'm *really* popular, even here."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You mean infamous?"

I shrugged, flipping my hair back. "Whatever you've heard, it's all lies. I'm over Cole Fay. These days, I'm more interested in investments."

He blinked. "What?"

"You know, growing my money."

"I know what you mean," he replied, eyeing me skeptically. "But I still don't believe you. You're not even old enough to legally invest."

"As long as I have the money, I can do anything," I said, stepping closer and leaning casually on his desk. "Is it really so hard to believe that I want to invest in your company? Or do you lack confidence in your own work?"

Michael met my gaze with an unreadable expression. "I'm confident my work will succeed. But I don't have time to entertain a brat like you. If you want to play games, go find someone else. I'm very busy right now."

I couldn't really blame him for brushing me off. After all, he'd probably dealt with countless rejections, and the last thing he needed was some rich kid pretending to be an investor.

From what I'd dug up, no one wanted to touch QuantumLyfe's project because it was a gamble. Being the first of its kind made it a pioneer, but also a massive risk.

Investors were too scared to back something so untested.

The concept of nanobot technology was groundbreaking, but that was exactly the problem — no one wanted to be the first to back an unproven, experimental technology.

Investors feared it would take too long to perfect or that the public wouldn't trust it. The lack of precedent made it a gamble, and most companies preferred to wait for a safer bet, letting someone else take the initial fall if things went wrong.

Being first often means dealing with the hardest challenged like overcoming technical issues and public skepticism, and QuantumLyfe's was stuck in that uncertain zone, scaring off potential investors.

Looked like I'd have to prove my worth.

Without a word, I pulled out a sleek folder from my bag and placed it firmly on Michael Blair's desk. His eyes flicked to it, but his expression stayed cold.

"This," I said, tapping the folder, "should change your mind."

I leaned forward slightly, my voice dropping. "Let's cut to the chase. You need money, and I need the business. It's a win-win for both of us. No games, no pretenses. I know what QuantumLyfe is capable of — you're sitting on something groundbreaking, but without funding, you're stuck in limbo."

His gaze lingered on the folder, but he didn't move. I pressed on. "I'm not just another wannabe investor throwing money around. I've done my research. I know your project inside and out. With the right backing, your nanobots could change the world. And I'm ready to make that happen."

For a moment, Michael stayed silent, his guarded expression unreadable. I could tell he was still skeptical, but now he was listening.