He opened the door and stepped out.

In the hallway, he leaned against the wall for a moment.

His phone buzzed one more time.

[Makima — Favorability: 94 Percent]

[Approaching 100 Favorability Threshold]

[10x Rebate Multiplier Imminent]

Sean put his phone in his pocket.

He stood in the quiet hallway of a building that was still standing because he had decided to make it stand.

Somewhere inside that office, Makima was calling her brother. Telling him it was over. That the debt was gone. That he was free.

Sean could already hear her the happiness and joy in her voice through the door. Speaking quietly. And then, a moment later, a different sound entirely.

Laughter. Relief. The sound of something broken being put back together.

He walked upstairs.

The empire was still being built. There were still things to do. Victor Hale was neutralized but not destroyed. The workers in those documents still needed someone to fight for them. Rebecca was still somewhere in the city completely unaware of how much Sean had already changed. Anthony was still playing the role of best friend.

All of that was still ahead.

But right now, in this building, one woman was calling her brother to tell him the nightmare was over.

And Sean had made that happen.

He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop.

Time to figure out what came next.

—----------------------------

[The Next Morning]

Sean was still asleep when the knock came.

Not loud. Soft. Careful. Like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure if they should be there.

He opened his eyes. The ceiling of his apartment. Morning light coming through the curtains. His phone on the nightstand showed seven forty-two.

He sat up slowly. Ran a hand over his face.

The knock came again. Still soft.

He grabbed a shirt off the chair near his bed and pulled it on. Walked to the door and opened it.

Makima stood in the hallway.

She was wearing a simple cream-colored blouse tucked into dark trousers. Her black hair was down, falling loose around her shoulders the way it only did when she wasn’t in full landlord mode. She was holding a covered plate in both hands and a small thermos under one arm.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

For a moment neither of them said anything. Like they were both remembering the same thing at the same time and neither of them had decided what to do with it yet.

"Good morning," said Sean.

"Good morning," said Makima. Then she stopped. Looked down at the plate in her hands. Then back up at him. "I made breakfast. I know you probably already..." She paused. "Actually no. I checked. You don’t have any food in your kitchen. I noticed that weeks ago and kept meaning to say something."

"You’ve been in my kitchen?" said Sean.

"I did a building inspection two months ago," said Makima. Her chin lifted slightly. "It’s standard practice."

"Right," said Sean.

"There was literally nothing in there except two instant noodle packets and an expired protein bar," said Makima.

"I eat out a lot," said Sean.

"You eat out because you have no food," said Makima. "Those are different things."

Sean leaned against the doorframe. Something about her right now was different from the Makima he was used to. The professional composure was still there but it was sitting differently. Looser. Like she’d taken something tight off and hadn’t quite decided what to replace it with.

"Do you want to come in?" said Sean.

She looked at him for a moment. "I didn’t want to assume."

"You’re holding a plate of food and a thermos," said Sean. "I think we’re past assuming."

She laughed. Small. Real. She stepped inside.

Sean’s apartment was not particularly impressive. Decent size for a college student. The new designer clothes from Élite Fashion were hanging neatly in the open wardrobe because he hadn’t bought a proper wardrobe yet. His desk had his laptop and some notes. The bed was unmade.

Makima set the plate and thermos on the small table near the window. She lifted the cover off the plate.

Eggs. Toast. Sliced tomatoes. Fruit on the side. Simple but clearly made with care. Everything was still warm.

"You cooked this morning?" said Sean.

"I was up early anyway," said Makima. She sat down in one of the two chairs without being invited. Like she’d already made the decision before she knocked. "I didn’t sleep very well."

Sean sat across from her. Pulled the plate toward him. "Why not?"

She looked at him directly. "You know why."

He held her gaze. "Tell me anyway."

Makima folded her hands on the table. She looked at them for a moment. "I kept thinking about yesterday. About the documents. About Danny calling me and crying on the phone." She paused. "About what happened after."

Sean said nothing. Just waited.

"I kissed you," said Makima. Very simply. Like she was stating a fact she’d been turning over in her mind since it happened.

"You did," said Sean.

"I don’t do things like that," she said. "I’m thirty-two. You’re my tenant. I run a building. I have responsibilities." She looked up at him. "And yesterday I kissed a college freshman in my office because I couldn’t think of any other way to say what I was feeling."

"How was that working out for you?" said Sean. "The not being able to say it?"

She looked at him for a moment. Then something softened in her expression. "Not well."

Sean picked up his fork. Started eating. The eggs were good. Really good.

"Makima," he said between bites.

"Yes?" Replied Makima

"What did you come here to say?" Said Sean

She was quiet for a moment. She reached over and poured coffee from the thermos into the second cup she’d brought and wrapped both hands around it.

"I came to thank you," she said. "Properly. Because last night I was so emotional that I don’t think I did it properly."