"I hate you." My voice cracks as I tell him.
His feet stop at the door.
I clutch the bedsheet tightly around my chest as he turns around with an emotionless face.
"Then there will be a lot of hate fucking between us." A smirk curve his lips as his g...
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"I don't own the company. I am just a shareholder."
I pause momentarily, feeding the tickets in the machine and glance up at Dakota with a puzzled look. What does he mean?
"The real owner of the company is someone else. He is a silent investor and holds maximum power and shares of the company. Whereas I am the acting CEO, face of the company, but my share is the second-highest, not the first." He clarifies.
"Oh.. So the company isn't actually yours?" I look at him shockingly. The revelation catches me off guard, changing the entire picture of him in my mind.
"No. I get my salary, and other amenities, including the car all under company's name. The only major thing I own personally is my home, which I bought this year." He tells me, when the machine signals the end of the ticket counting process.
Dakota passes me the card with 2800 points, from where I excitedly choose a smiling sloth plushie for myself and a double meal at McDonald's for both of us.
"But the media says it's your company. They.. don't know the truth?" I ask him, cradling my new sloth plushie as we head towards the fast-food restaurant.
"The company is set up on my brain and his resources. All the infrastructure, funds, even the initial clients, they were all provided by him. That's how HighBar became one of the fastest growing AI companies in 2022. It would be impossible without his grace."
"And nobody knows him?" I ask Dakota curiously, as I settle the slot on the table while we take our seats in a cozy corner, waiting for our free meal.
"Except me and the lawyers, of course." He comments.
I feel a strange thud in my heart, knowing I am probably the only unnecessary person in his life who now knows his deep secret. Why would he even share it with me?
"That's what silent investors do. They don't let their names out for obvious reasons." He explains further. "But he is a good friend of mine, someone I trust. So, I don't have a problem if I am working for him. Maybe someday I'll start my own thing, when my mind will be capable of handling shits."
Dakota smiles, almost pitifully. His eyes appear gentle, yet deeply mysterious like the sea itself, holding a billion secrets in the darkness.
Meanwhile, our double meal arrives. I couldn't help but feel conflicted from inside. He is already so smart, so wicked, so powerful to handle any shit. Then why would he say something like that?
My train of thoughts break as I watch Dakota's strange action of customizing his chicken burger by placing an unhealthy layer of fries and ketchup beneath the bun and packing it back up.
"What?" He jerks his brows at me, before taking a big bite from his burger.
