𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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“ The Cost Of Power ”






Onika paced back and forth in her office, her mind racing with the implications of China's latest move. The pressure was immense, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her assistant entered the room, a stack of papers in hand.

"Madam President, we received a proposal from Miss Knowles regarding the China deal. She believes it’s a viable solution," the assistant said cautiously.

Onika’s eyes flashed with anger. "To hell with what Beyoncé has to say! She quit. She has no right to interfere."

Michael, who had been quietly observing from a corner, stepped forward scanning the papers. "Babe, that sounds pretty valid. Beyoncé has a point."

Onika glared at him. "I don't care if Beyoncé has a point. We will not be taking her solution." She turned to her receptionist. "Burn it."

The receptionist hesitated but nodded, taking the papers and leaving the room. Onika rubbed her temples, trying to calm herself, but the frustration was overwhelming. She continued pacing, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of anger and longing.

"Okay, Michael, can you leave? You're clogging my thoughts," Onika snapped.

Michael moved closer to his wife, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Onika. You have a solution, and that's the one Beyoncé gave. If not that, what do you want?"

Onika’s voice softened, her vulnerability peeking through. "Her. I mean, I want her to stop helping me."

Michael sighed. "It's obvious she cares. Let her care."

Onika chuckled bitterly. "You have no idea what you're saying."

Michael stepped back, giving her space. "Right. Get ready for tonight then."

As he left the office, Onika sank into her chair, staring at the ceiling. The ache of missing Beyoncé was gnawing at her, making it hard to focus on anything else. She knew she needed to clear her head before the evening’s events. The gala tonight was crucial, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

After a few moments of silence, Onika stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the cityscape. Her thoughts drifted to the moments she had shared with Beyoncé—the intensity, the passion, the undeniable connection. It was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

She glanced at the clock and realized she needed to prepare for the evening. With a sigh, she left her office and headed to her private quarters to get ready. The weight of her responsibilities pressed down on her, but she pushed it aside, determined to maintain her composure.

***

Later that evening, Onika arrived at the grand ballroom where the gala was being held. The room was filled with influential figures, all mingling and discussing politics, business, and the latest societal trends. Onika moved through the crowd with practiced grace, her presence commanding attention.

Michael was by her side, offering support. As they made their way to their designated table, Onika’s thoughts kept drifting back to Beyoncé. She couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness, the longing for the woman who had become such an integral part of her life.

As the evening progressed, Onika found herself increasingly distracted. She excused herself from the table and stepped outside to get some air. The cool night breeze was a welcome relief, and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind.

Her phone buzzed, and she saw a message from her assistant. "Madam President, the proposal from Beyoncé has been destroyed as requested. However, I must stress that her insights were highly valuable."

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