The evening sun dipped low behind the Shikongo family estate as the aroma of supper floated through the dining hall. Plates clinked softly. Laughter—brief and light—fluttered through the room like birdsong. Then the front door burst open.
Cinthia stormed in, her face pale with panic, her phone clenched in hand like a live wire.
"Have you seen this video?!" she exclaimed, breathless. "Is this why Nathan lost it at the office today?"
Monica looked up from her plate, brows furrowed. "What video?"
Without another word, Cinthia tapped her screen and held it up. A video played—Vicky, standing tall, tearing wads of crisp cash and flinging them at Nathan. The room fell silent. The audacity. The defiance. Everyone stared, slack-jawed.
Just then, Nathan walked in with Catty, their footsteps echoing down the corridor.
"Nate, what happened this morning?" Monica asked sharply.
Nathan blinked, caught off-guard. "What do you mean what happened?"
"Someone broke your spinal cord, bro," Adams deadpanned.
Damien chuckled bitterly. "I thought you were having a seizure at the office... but looks like it was just public humiliation."
Monica turned her phone toward Nathan and hit play.
Nathan's jaw clenched as the clip played. His face turned from confusion to fury. Without warning, he yanked the phone from Cinthia's hand and hurled it across the room.
"Hey! That's my phone!" Cinthia shrieked.
"Who posted this?! Who the hell posted that video?" Nathan roared.
"No one knows," Cinthia said, stunned. "It's trending on a gossip page. Just popped up."
"I want it deleted. Now."
"And how exactly are we supposed to do that if we don't even know who posted it?" Monica challenged him, eyes narrow.
Adams let out a low whistle. "Whoever that girl is… she's got guts. Not many people would dare to humiliate Nathan Shikongo in public like that."
Nathan whipped around, incredulous. "You're siding with her now?! I was humiliated by that poor, foolish girl—and now my own family is cheering her on?"
"She's not just some poor brat," Catty hissed. "She's a disrespectful little ingrate. Nathan offered her help—he compensated her for the mess she made—and she threw it in his face. Literally. What kind of fool tears up money like that?"
Cinthia turned up the volume on the video.
"The weakness of rich people… is money."
The room was quiet again. Stunned.
Daniels let out a low whistle. "She's got brains, too. She's poor, vulnerable… but she knew exactly where to strike."
"She said money should only be given with love and respect… otherwise, it's just decorated paper with wasted gold," Cinthia added, her voice soft.
"I hate to admit it… but she's right," Damien murmured.
"Same here," Sofia echoed.
Nathan clenched his fists and stormed toward his room, his anger boiling just below the surface.
Monica and Catty followed close behind, but Monica stopped when she saw Catty veer toward Nathan's bedroom door.
"Excuse me—why are you going into my brother's room?" Monica asked, stepping in her path.
Catty didn't pause.
"I said—since when did you start going into my brother's room?"
Catty turned slowly, smirking. "Nathan is my fiancé, Monica. I have every right to be in his room. More right than you, actually. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
She brushed past, leaving Monica stunned, mouth agape.
Meanwhile, Kuku Veronica watched quietly from her chair, fingers drumming the edge of the table.
"That girl reminded Nathan of something," she said softly.
"What do you mean?" Damien asked, turning to her. "Did Nathan… play the piano?"
"Yes," Betty chimed in, surprising everyone.
"What?" Sofia gasped.
"He hasn't touched that piano in over two years," Betty said. "He used to play it for his ex-girlfriend. After they broke up, he'd retreat to that music room, play until midnight, just to calm himself."
Damien nodded slowly. "So… seeing this new girl triggered something in him."
"I didn't get a good look at her," Daniels mused. "Could she be the ex?"
"No," Cinthia said, shaking her head. "This girl's Black. His ex wasn't."
Upstairs, Nathan slammed the door and immediately called Ruben.
"I need that video wiped off the internet. I don't care how. I don't care where. By 5 AM tomorrow—I want it gone. You have nine hours. Make it happen."
Ruben nodded. "Yes, sir."
He turned to leave, but Catty stayed behind.
"You know," she said, arms crossed, "Ruben's not just your driver. He's your bodyguard, your fixer, your hitman if you'd let him."
Nathan collapsed onto his bed with a groan. "Must this girl haunt both the start and the end of my day? I came home in a good mood after meeting Emily, and now it's all ruined."
Catty's brows lifted. "Emily?"
"Who gave you good vibes?" she asked, voice tight.
Nathan looked up, surprised. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Are you… jealous?"
"What? No! I'm just—curious."
He laughed. "You are jealous. Admit it."
"I'm not," she said flatly, but her cheeks burned.
"Relax," he said, standing. "Emily's just a kid. A sweet girl I met today at Goreangab. The same one you saw with me in the store."
Catty exhaled, clearly embarrassed.
"Oh… sorry."
Nathan chuckled again. "You're cute when you're jealous."