That night, Mr. Thomas Oak said something I still couldn't shake.
"I removed the original candidate before the results were declared. With the help of Mr. Haeson Kim—the HR manager at Velvéra. We got lucky—another applicant had the same name. Caroline Garnier. An orphan from Giverny. Perfect match. I bribed Kim. And today... I killed the real Caroline. Erased her completely. These are her phone and laptop. If anyone calls, you answer."
That was my father's voice.
That was the life he handed me.
And yet...
"Shall I introduce her to the sensitive information, sir? She's signed the agreement,"
Mr. Kim had asked David.
"No. I don't think you should," David replied coolly.
"She'll be under my surveillance for a few months. Agreement or not."
He smirked at me like a man who knew he still held all the power.
I clenched my fists beneath the desk.
Did he suspect me?
Or was he just playing his usual game?
"Fine, sir," Kim had said awkwardly, sweat forming at his collar.
"I'll take her now to introduce her to the staff."
David nodded.
Kim walked me through the different departments—HR, Finance, Marketing. The Velvéra headquarters was massive, the air filled with constant clicking, calling, the elegance of high fashion overlaying corporate ruthlessness.
Europe's largest fashion empire. Branches in twelve countries.
Dozens of faces. Hundreds of systems.
But not a single scrap of sensitive intel. Nothing that could help us.
By the time the workday ended, I was drained—body and soul.
"You may leave now," David said without looking up from his laptop.
"Mr. Kim must've shared my schedule with you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fine. You're dismissed."
On the way home, I let myself feel the first breath of relief.
The identity held.
No glitches.
No exposures.
For now—I was still alive.
But when I reached the apartment building, I froze.
There, curled up on the front steps, sat Nancy—hugging her knees.
Tears had streaked down her face. She looked up and bolted toward me.
"Where were you, sister Ari? Sob… sob… You said you'd be back in the evening! You liar...!"
"Oh sweetheart... I'm so sorry…"
She clung to my legs, tiny and trembling.
I picked her up and carried her on my back.
By the time we reached our door, she'd already fallen asleep on my shoulder.
I tucked her into bed and brushed her hair off her face.
She looked so peaceful… like she didn't know what world we lived in.
Later, Dad returned, voice oddly cheerful.
"I'm home, children!"
Nancy was asleep. I stayed in the kitchen, finishing dinner.
I didn't respond.
"All fine today?" he asked casually.
I didn't answer that either.
After his shower, he joined me at the table, freshly dressed.
Back to his mask.
"Where's Nancy?"
"Asleep."
"Without dinner?"
"Yeah."
Then the real question came.
"How was your first day, Ariadne?"
"Fine. But exhausting."
"Did he share anything?"
"Nope. That bastard David blocked Kim from telling me anything. Even when I asked Kim privately—he refused. Said he needed more money."
Dad sighed and brushed his hair back.
"I already bribed him once to wipe Caroline's identity. But for deeper access, he wants monthly payments—same rate or higher."
"And?"
"I refused. He threatened to expose you by next month. I told him if he does, he'll be the first one to vanish. He hung up after that."
Then he dropped something even more disturbing.
"I'll be filing my success report to the organisation soon. In it, I'll say: 'The real Caroline helped with financial leaks, and I eliminated her.' That'll be our alibi."
"…Right."
"Oh, and the landlord from her old apartment called. Asking for rent. I paid from my account. Told them she moved out urgently. They accepted it."
"Good," I said quietly.
Dinner was ready. I went to wake Nancy.
But—
Her bed was empty.
"Nancy?" I called, panic creeping into my voice.
I checked the washroom. Kitchen. Closet. Under the bed.
Nowhere.
My heart hammered.
"Dad?! Nancy's gone!"
He shot up instantly.
We tore through the apartment.
Nothing.
Then—something in the corner of my eye.
I rushed to the window.
There, down on the street… a long black car idled beneath the streetlamp.
At the wheel sat a tall woman in a fitted black skirt, red tie, unbuttoned jacket, and broad sunglasses—Agent Crimson Night.
On the back seat—Nancy.
Smiling.
My breath stopped.
Her hands pressed against the window, waving playfully.
She thought it was a ride.
I opened my mouth to scream—
But froze.
If I shouted her name, they'd know I was alive.
My identity. Our cover. Everything—blown.
I clenched the curtain and whispered, trembling:
"Dad… come here. Now."
He rushed to the window.
The car pulled away.
"Sorry…" I whispered.
"You understand why I couldn't scream, Mr. Thomas."
He didn't speak.
Then—
"Fine. Let's chase her now!"