The Fool’s Angel

The second the heavy doors of my car slammed shut, sealing us inside the quiet cabin, the adrenaline finally crashed. Claudia's hands began to shake violently.

"Daeron… we actually did it." She opened the banking app on her phone, her thumb trembling as she refreshed the screen. She stared at the bold green numbers in pure, unadulterated shock. "We just managed to make $1,600."

I smiled widely, leaning back into the leather driver's seat with immense pride. "Congratulations, soldier! You earned every single penny of that."

She looked up from the glowing screen, her dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute determination. "Hey. Can you give me your friends' bank account numbers?"

"Huh?" I blinked, my smile faltering in confusion. "Why?"

"They’re our middlemen, Daeron! We only got our very first client because they gave us their private contact list, right? We owe them a commission."

My eyes widened. I stared at her, completely speechless. I knew exactly how desperate her situation was. I knew she was literally starving herself to afford her mother's medication and her sister's tuition. Yet, the very first second she held a massive paycheck in her hands, her immediate instinct was to make sure everyone else got paid fairly.

This girl’s integrity is absolutely unmatched.

I chuckled, a profound wave of respect washing over me. "That's a very good idea. How much of a cut should we give them?"

She didn't even have to think about it. "I’ll be the one to transfer it. We'll give them a 10% referral fee off the top. And then, I’ll wire exactly half of what's left directly into your checking account."

"What?" I frowned. "No!"

"Hey! They absolutely deserve the 10%, Daeron!" she defended fiercely.

"Not the Russians! I mean what do you mean you'll transfer the remaining half to me? Absolutely not!"

She frowned, shifting in her seat to face me fully. "Listen to me, Daeron. We are equal business partners. You built the model, you found the client, and you pitched the sale. If you refuse your paycheck, I would rather dissolve the business right now." Her gaze was deadly serious; she wasn't bluffing.

I let out a heavy exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Fine. But I’ll take 10%. I didn’t do the heavy lifting with the math."

"No! We split the remaining revenue in half!"

"No!! 10%!"

"I said. Split. In. Half." she ordered, her stubborn streak fully igniting.

"That’s not how you negotiate in business, Clau! I’ll take 10% or I take nothing at all!"

She punched me hard in the shoulder. "Don’t be an idiot!! We are splitting it evenly!"

"Fine, 20%!"

"50%!"

I aggressively rubbed my face, groaning in frustration.

God, this girl is so incredibly fucking stubborn.

"Look at me," I said, dropping my voice into a firm, logical tone. "We need to split this revenue based on task allocation. Listen, your workload is significantly higher and much more technically complex, Clau. You are the mastermind. You cannot value yourself that low. I know exactly what my workload is worth. If we are going to split this, let’s be fair and base it on the facts! 20% is my absolute maximum."

She pouted, crossing her arms and stubbornly looking out the passenger window at the snowy street. "Fine. But you have to at least take 30%. Please, Daeron?"

I looked at her pouting profile and finally relented. "Deal!"

She turned back toward me, her triumphant, bright smile returning. "Thank you. Now, please give me your friends' routing numbers."

"Actually, let’s just go meet them in person to deliver the news. How about it?"

Her smile grew even wider, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Sure!"

I put the car in drive, pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, and headed straight toward Nikolay’s apartment.

**

Ding!

I pressed the doorbell of Nikolay’s apartment. A few seconds later, the heavy wooden door swung inward.

"Derro!!!!" Nikolay’s booming voice echoed into the hallway as he yanked me inside, giving me a solid, bone-rattling backslap. As he pulled back, his eyes darted over my shoulder, locking onto the small girl standing behind me. "Who’s this?"

"This is Claudia, Brotha."

Claudia stepped forward, offering a polite, slightly nervous wave. "Hi, I’m Claudia."

Nikolay's eyes blew wide open. He instantly shot a knowing, victorious look back at me.

"Are you guys still busy? Can we come in for a minute?" I asked, pushing past him.

"Oh! Sure! Come in, come in!"

We walked into the messy apartment. As always, Boris was taking up three cushions on the sofa, fully engrossed in rewatching The Notebook on the laptop. Meanwhile, Andrew was methodically wiping down the kitchen island to keep it tidy.

"Hey, Brothas!!" I called out.

Boris and Andrew looked over. Their eyes immediately snapped to Claudia.

"Hi, I’m Claudia," she smiled warmly, waving her hand.

I pointed across the room, giving her the official tour. "That giant, weeping mountain bear over there is Boris. And the maid scrubbing the counter is Andrew. All three of them live in this cramped apartment together for absolutely no logical reason."

"Hey! Hey! Watch your mouth, Derro!" Nikolay squinted at me, crossing his arms. "Are you trying to impress the pretty girl by insulting us?" He let out a booming, infectious laugh.

Claudia giggled, her nerves instantly melting as she glanced up at me. I just rolled my eyes at him.

"Come on, take a seat on the sofa, Claudia. Can I get you something to drink?" Nikolay offered, gesturing to the living room.

"No, thank you! We just came to drop by for a quick moment."

"Ahhh, I get it. You like Derro’s fancy luxury loft better? I know it's a little cramped in here," Nikolay teased, laughing at her panicked expression.

"No! Please, it’s not like that at all!" she backpedaled rapidly, waving her hands. "I just don’t want to be a burden on your evening. We actually came here to talk to you about your cut of the business."

The playful atmosphere completely vanished. All three Russians frowned in perfect unison.

"What cut?" Andrew asked, setting his cleaning rag down and stepping forward.

"The contact list you gave us, remember?" Claudia explained, pulling her phone out. "We managed to make a pitch to one of them—Mr. Wang. We finished the contract today, delivered the software, and already received our payment. So, I need to wire your 10% commission."

The Russians exchanged looks of sheer, unadulterated shock.

"Wait. We just helped gather some phone numbers. We didn’t even help you call them," Boris rumbled, pausing his movie.

"And you guys actually closed a high-ticket deal with Steve Wang? He’s a massive pain in the ass to deal with. He's incredibly old-school and hard to even pin down for a meeting," Andrew added, his analytical mind processing the victory. "You guys did all the actual work."

"How the hell did you manage to convince him to take a meeting anyway? That dude is a brick wall," Nikolay asked, walking over and handing us two cold bottles of cola.

"Well, it was Daeron who called him, charmed him, and pitched the meeting!" Claudia defended proudly, giving me the credit. "I just did the technical accounting work."

All the Russians slowly turned their heads to look at me, genuine respect flashing in their eyes. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Anyway, I need your routing number for the 10% cut. We grossed $1,600 from the contract," she explained.

"What?!" The Russians shouted, completely stunned by the overnight turnaround.

"No! Absolutely not. That’s way too much money to give away! We can’t accept that. Like we said, we just handed you a piece of paper," Andrew argued firmly, his protective instincts already kicking in.

Claudia let out an exasperated exhale, stepping forward. "Listen to me, guys. We are running a legitimate B2B business here. It is fair that you get your referral cut. We intend to run this agency for the long haul. Since your channels proved to be highly profitable for us, I want to make sure our business relationship is mutually beneficial moving forward."

The Russians looked at each other, silently communicating through micro-expressions, before averting their gazes toward me. I just raised my hands in total surrender.

"Fine," Andrew finally countered. "But we will only take 5% for a cold referral list. Let’s make a deal: in the future, if we actively help you close a tough prospect, you can give us the full 10%. Otherwise, if it’s just a name on a list, we only take 5%. How about it?"

Claudia looked up at me. I gave her an encouraging nod. It was a fair, highly professional compromise.

"Fine. I accept those terms," Claudia smirked. "But for this very first payout, I am throwing in an extra 5% as a partnership signing bonus. Non-negotiable."

Nikolay threw his head back and chuckled loudly. "Okay, Claudia. You win. We will take that. I'll write down Andrew’s bank account so you can wire the funds." He offered his massive, calloused hand toward her. She firmly shook it.

"Thank you. I hope we can keep this partnership going for a long time!" she smiled.

"Great!" Nikolay smirked, leaning heavily against the counter. "Now, enough business. Tell us about yourself, Claudia! Any girl of Daeron’s is a systra to us!"

Claudia blushed a furious, violent shade of red. "I.. Ah.. I’m literally just his business partner!"

The Russians immediately threw a collective, highly skeptical glare toward me. I quickly averted my gaze.

"Then tell us who Claudia is, and how you met this brooding idiot to start an agency," Andrew asked gently, taking a seat on the armchair.

Claudia sat down and began telling them the story of how we met at the café. She was guarded at first, but soon, Andrew’s calm, empathetic questioning managed to break down her walls. She slowly opened up about her family situation. When they learned about her father's sudden death, the crushing debt, and her grueling double shifts to pay for her little sister's tuition, the entire vibe of the apartment shifted. Nikolay and Andrew listened in dead silence, their expressions dropping into something incredibly serious and deeply respectful.

And Boris? The giant, terrifying muscle of the Brotherhood, who was already emotionally compromised from watching The Notebook, completely broke down. Listening to Claudia’s tragic backstory had the massive Russian openly sobbing into a throw pillow like a little girl.

Looking at her casually talking, laughing, and sharing her life with the Brotherhood made my chest incredibly warm. For the past year, I had kept my two worlds completely separate. Seeing them collide like this—seeing her instantly accepted into my found family—was everything I never knew I needed. I couldn't hide the subtle, proud smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

Thank God I met her.

After exchanging stories for an hour, and once Claudia had officially wired the referral fee, we decided it was time to head back to the loft.

"Thank you for the warm welcome, guys!" Claudia said, pulling her winter coat on.

"Anytime, Systra! Our door is always open for you!" Boris sniffled loudly, his deep voice cracking with raw emotion.

"Don’t be a stranger! If you ever need anything—literally anything—just call us!" Nikolay waved.

"Hey, Claudia? Can we talk to Daeron alone for a quick second?" Andrew asked smoothly.

"Sure! I’ll wait in the car," she smiled, giving them one last wave before stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut.

The second the wooden door clicked into the doorframe, the warm, brotherly atmosphere in the room violently vanished.

"What is it?" I asked, turning back to them.

They glared at me. A collective, lethal aura radiated from the three of them, entirely dropping their frat-boy personas and reminding me exactly who they were in the Chicago underworld. It sent a genuine chill down my spine.

"Look at me very closely. If you do something bad to her, I will fucking beat you to death," Boris rumbled, his deep, terrifying voice completely devoid of tears.

"Yeah, Derro. We’re not joking around here. Don’t you dare toy with her feelings," Nikolay added, giving me a cold, sharp, unblinking stare.

"I will not stand by if you are just fooling around with her," Andrew's rare, icy tone cut through the room like a knife. "She has been through enough trauma. Be a man."

I rolled my eyes, letting out a heavy exhale to hide the fact that I actually respected the hell out of them for protecting her. "You guys are so weird." I turned around, reaching for the doorknob and waving them goodbye without looking back.

"Remember, Derro!!! She’s an absolute Angel!!!" Boris shouted as I stepped into the hall.

I chuckled, pulling the door shut. "Thanks, Brotha!"

Those guys were absolutely ridiculous. But as I walked to the elevator, a profound sense of peace settled over me. I was incredibly glad Claudia fit in so well with them. My family was finally whole.

**

After our massive victory with Mr. Wang, we kept the momentum rolling by aggressively targeting the rest of Andrew's contact list.

By the time January came to a close, we had successfully contracted four active clients. Our total net revenue hit $2,800. For two college students running a startup out of a living room, it was an incredibly strong start.

As the workload predictably spiked, Claudia finally agreed to recruit two of her smartest classmates to help her process the basic administrative data, freeing her up to focus on the complex tax frameworks while I handled the sales pipeline.

But paying independent contractors requires liquid capital. So, where did the payroll come from? My 30% cut. I managed to outmaneuver Claudia's stubborn pride by framing it as an "angel investment." I told her I was reinvesting my revenue back into the agency to scale our growth. At first, she flat-out refused. But after three days of relentless arguing, she finally caved. I had to play dirty and drop my ultimate trump card to win the argument: I pulled up my trust fund bank account on my phone and shoved it in front of her. "I don't need this cash to survive, Clau. I need you to not work yourself into a hospital." It was harsh, but it was necessary.

Once the spring semester officially kicked off, our lives merged into a seamless, comfortable routine. On our slower days, Claudia would back to her dorm to sleep. But even then, the second her afternoon classes ended, she would march straight to my loft just to hang out, study, or help me draft client emails.

And when the deadlines were tight—especially at the end of the month—Claudia just lived at the loft. She would inevitably work until her battery died, passing out face-first on the kitchen island or the mini-library desk. It became my quiet, unspoken nightly routine to scoop her up, carry her to my bedroom, tuck her in, and retreat to the living room.

My spine was currently paying the price. That leather sofa had become my worst enemy and my closest friend.

First Week of February 2013.

After a brutally long day of crunching numbers, I performed our usual ritual. I carried Claudia's exhausted, sleeping frame into the bedroom, pulled the heavy duvet over her shoulders, and quietly shut the door. I walked out to the dark living room and threw my aching body onto the cold leather sofa with a heavy groan.

Hah. Running an agency is fucking exhausting. I have to find a way to automate more of this so Claudia doesn't have to work until she passes out. I rubbed my tired eyes, ready to officially close out the day.

"Daeron."

I blinked, opening my eyes. Looking over the armrest of the sofa, my eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the Chicago skyline pouring through the windows. Claudia was standing in the middle of the living room, clutching her arms around her waist.

"Ah. I thought you were already dead to the world," I muttered.

She didn't laugh at the joke. She just stood there, shifting her weight nervously without saying a word.

"Hey, what's wrong? Why are you just standing there in the dark?" I squinted, pushing myself up into a sitting position.

"Uhmm… I’m sorry. I just feel like I keep burdening you," her voice was incredibly small.

"Hey, chill out! I already told you, right? It’s totally fine, Clau. You aren't a burden. And don’t worry, this sofa is actually incredibly comfy,"

Her fingers nervously twisted the hem of her shirt. "I was just thinking…. Can you… sleep on the bed tonight?"

I immediately stood up. "No! I am absolutely not letting you sleep out here on this freezing sofa! Please don’t be stubborn about this tonight, Clau, you need a real mattress."

"No… Daeron, not like that…."

I frowned. I looked closer at her face in the dim light. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, violent shade of red. She looked incredibly vulnerable. My eyes slowly widened as her words finally registered.

"Can you sleep on the bed… with me?" She gripped her fingers tightly together, forcing her dark, nervous eyes to lock onto mine. "Please?"

Thump. My heart violently kicked against my ribs, suddenly beating as loud and fast as a war drum. The exhaustion completely vanished from my veins, replaced by pure adrenaline.

"Sleep…. with you?"

She quickly averted her gaze to the floor, her face burning, and gave a tiny, shy nod.

A scorching heat rushed to my face. My brain completely flatlined.