The week started with a decision.
Not a dramatic one. Not the kind that announced itself with weight or ceremony. Just a quiet conclusion that had been forming at the back of his mind for several days and finally arrived fully formed on a Monday morning while he was making chai.
He needed a company.
Not for ego. Not for appearance. For structure. Everything he was building — the app, the trading architecture, the Eiben groundwork — was currently sitting on the shoulders of one person with a fake identity and a notebook. That was fine for now. It would not be fine for much longer.
A company meant legitimacy. It meant contracts. It meant Patricia could work properly instead of navigating around the edges of what he could and couldn't formally authorise. It meant when he eventually approached Eiben Chemcorp he was approaching them as an entity rather than an individual — which was an entirely different conversation.
He called Patricia at nine.
"I need to set up a company", he said.
A brief pause.
"I was wondering when you'd get there", she said.
They met that afternoon.
Patricia had already done preliminary thinking on the structure — she was that kind of lawyer. A Private Limited company, she recommended. Clean, structured, appropriate for someone planning to scale significantly. The right foundation for bringing in shareholders and investment down the line without restructuring everything from scratch.
He had already thought about the name.
"Vertex Solutions", he said.
She wrote it down without comment.
"Simple", she said.
"That's the point", he said.
Within forty eight hours Vertex Solutions Pvt. Ltd. was registered, bank accounts were opened through Daniel and the financial architecture that had previously existed in informal pieces was folded cleanly into a single structure.
He sat at his desk that evening and looked at the registration documents on his laptop screen.
Vertex Solutions Pvt. Ltd. His.
Not love. Not pride. Just the quiet satisfaction of something being in its right place.
But the company alone wasn't enough.
He had thought about this carefully over the past few days. A company was visible. His name was on it. And while Daniel had done excellent work making his financial profile look clean and ordinary, the more successful Vertex Solutions became the more visible Aditya Singh would become alongside it.
That needed a layer of separation.
He called Patricia the same evening.
"I need a trust", he said.
A pause.
"How structured?", she asked.
"Sole trustee", he said. "Me. Thirty percent stake in Vertex held by the trust. Clean separation between personal and company assets. Nothing that draws attention but everything that holds up if someone looks closely."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"You've thought about this", she said.
"I think about everything", he said.
She had the structure drawn up within three days. The Vertex Trust — simple name, deliberate — held thirty percent of Vertex Solutions Pvt. Ltd. with Aditya as sole trustee. Personal assets protected. Company ownership partially shielded. A clean wall between what was his and what was the company's.
Daniel reviewed it and nodded approvingly.
"This is the kind of thing people usually figure out ten years too late", he said.
"I'm in a hurry", Aditya said.
James came first.
Aditya had been observing him for two weeks through the developer forum — watching how he approached problems, how he responded when someone challenged his thinking, whether his solutions were neat or just fast. The difference mattered.
They met at a coffee shop near James's apartment. James was twenty six, slightly dishevelled in the specific way of someone who thought deeply about code and approximately nothing else, and direct in a way Aditya immediately appreciated.
Aditya explained what he needed. Backend improvements for the existing app. Architecture for a second version. Clean work, properly documented, no questions about where it fit into the bigger picture.
James looked at him for a moment.
"What's the bigger picture?", he asked.
"You don't need to know that yet", Aditya said.
James considered this.
"Fair enough", he said.
"What's the rate?"
They agreed on terms. James started the following day.
Preet was the more important hire.
She was twenty eight, originally from Mumbai, two years in New York on a research visa that was due for renewal — something Aditya had noted and filed away as potentially useful. She had a background in pharmaceutical chemistry and had spent her first year in New York working for a mid sized research firm before going independent.
Dr. Priya had connected them, which had been the right introduction. Preet trusted Dr. Priya's judgment and Dr. Priya had been straightforward about who Aditya was — a young independent businessman, serious, worth talking to.
Their meeting was longer than the one with James.
Preet was careful. She asked real questions — about the company, about the scope of the work, about what she would and wouldn't be expected to do. He answered honestly where he could and was clear about the boundaries where he couldn't.
"I need someone who understands pharmaceutical company structures", he said.
"Ownership, research pipelines, valuation. Not to do anything with the information. Just to help me understand what I'm looking at."
She looked at him steadily.
"Which company?", she asked.
"I'll tell you that when the engagement is confirmed", he said.
She was quiet for a moment.
"Okay", she said. "I can work with that."
She signed the contract two days later. He told her about Eiben Chemcorp the morning after.
She had heard of them — small, she said, not particularly well regarded in research circles, but with an interesting pipeline that hadn't attracted much attention yet.
'Exactly', Aditya thought.
Lindy called on a Thursday evening.
"Are you free Saturday?", she asked.
"A friend of mine is having a few people over. Small gathering at his place."
"Sure", he said. "Who's the friend?"
"Eddie", she said.
"Eddie Morra. We've known each other a while." A brief pause.
"He's been a bit off lately actually. Not bad just — not himself. I think being around people will help."
Aditya kept his voice easy.
"What's he like?", he asked.
"Talented", she said.
"Really talented actually. He wrote a book recently — it's good, genuinely good. But lately it's like something went out of him." She paused again.
"Anyway. You'll see for yourself. I think you two will get along."
'I already know exactly who he is', Aditya thought.
But he said — "Sounds good. Send me the address."
Eddie's apartment was not what Aditya had expected.
He had been prepared for something worse.
The apartment itself was still decent — the book money hadn't run out completely yet, though from the look of things it was working on it. Dishes in the sink that hadn't been dealt with. A stack of unopened mail on the counter. The particular kind of low level disorder that accumulates when someone stops caring enough to stay on top of the small things.
Eddie had clearly cleaned before people arrived. The main room was presentable. But it was the kind of clean that took effort — the kind you could see the edges of if you looked carefully enough.
There were maybe eight people when Aditya arrived with Lindy. Fewer than Eddie had probably hoped for — a couple had cancelled last minute, Lindy had mentioned on the way over.
Eddie greeted everyone at the door. He was warm, genuinely pleased to see people, and working harder at it than he probably realised. The easy charm that had come so naturally during the NZT window was still there in fragments — muscle memory of a version of himself he could no longer fully access. But the thread kept slipping. He would be fully present in a conversation and then something would drift behind his eyes and he would come back half a second later slightly less sharp than before.
About thirty minutes in Lindy found Eddie near the kitchen and pulled Aditya over with her.
"Eddie", she said.
"This is Aditya. He's been in the city about six weeks now. Does something with software — has his own company actually."
Eddie turned and looked at him properly for the first time.
He took Aditya in quickly. Age. Posture. The watch. The way he stood.
He extended his hand.
"Eddie", he said.
"Aditya", he said.
They shook hands.
"Software", Eddie said. "What kind?"
"Productivity app to start", Aditya said.
"Branching into other areas."
"Like?"
"Pharmaceutical", Aditya said simply.
Something moved briefly across Eddie's face — not recognition, just interest. The word pharmaceutical still meant something to him even without NZT. It always would.
"Interesting space", he said.
"It has potential", Aditya said.
Lindy smiled beside him, pleased the introduction was going smoothly, completely unaware of the specific weight the word pharmaceutical carried between the two of them in ways she had no way of knowing.
They talked for a few minutes — easy, surface level, two people finding the shape of each other for the first time. Eddie was likeable in the way that naturally charming people remained likeable even when running at reduced capacity. Aditya was measured, genuine, unrevealing.
Then someone called Eddie from across the room and he excused himself.
Lindy leaned toward Aditya slightly.
"See?", she said quietly. "He's good value."
"Yeah", Aditya said.
'He was', he thought. 'He will be again. Just not like this.'
It happened near the end of the evening.
The gathering had thinned — people leaving gradually, the energy winding down. Eddie was talking to the last remaining guests near the window when Lindy reached over without thinking and straightened the collar of Aditya's jacket.
Completely automatic. The kind of gesture that only existed between two people past a certain threshold of familiarity.
Eddie saw it from across the room.
He didn't stop his conversation. Didn't change expression. Kept talking and nodding and being exactly what the moment required.
But something shifted behind his eyes.
Not anger. Not bitterness. Something quieter and harder to look at than either of those things.
The look of someone who had just understood something he had been hoping not to understand.
Everything landing at once — new person, Lindy moved on, his own life spiralling, and somewhere in the middle of all of it this quiet composed young man with a company and a watch and a pharmaceutical interest standing in his apartment next to the person Eddie had been hoping would eventually come back.
Aditya registered all of it completely and said nothing.
Lindy didn't notice at all.
The evening ended shortly after.
Eddie walked them to the door last.
He shook Aditya's hand — firm, brief, nothing in his expression.
Then he looked at Lindy and smiled. The kind of smile that cost something.
"Good to see you", he said to her. Quietly. Genuinely.
"You too Eddie", she said and hugged him briefly.
"Call me this week okay? Properly."
"Yeah", he said. "I will."
Outside on the street Lindy was quiet for a moment.
"He's not okay", she said.
It wasn't a question.
"No", Aditya agreed.
She looked at him.
"You noticed too", she said.
"Yes", he said.
She said nothing more for a while. They walked to the Harley and he handed her the spare helmet he had started carrying.
He rode through the city quietly, Lindy behind him, her hands light on his sides.
'He is going to hit the bottom again soon', he thought. 'And when he does he is going to be looking for something to hold onto.'
The question was what that something would be.
And whether Aditya would be ready when it happened.
Back at his apartment he sat at his desk and opened his notebook.
He wrote his end of day notes.
Company — Vertex Solutions Pvt. Ltd. registered.
Trust — Vertex Trust established. 30% stake. Sole trustee
Team — James, Preet. Others as needed.
Bank — $284,350 and climbing.
Eiben — Preet briefed. Research begun.
He closed the notebook and turned off the light.
The city outside moved on as it always did.
Everything was in place. The company. The team. The groundwork.
Now came the part where things got complicated.