Nathan swiped his gym card and stepped into the empty hall. The air smelled of iron and disinfectant. He stretched, pushed through his reps, ignoring the prickling on his neck — that eerie awareness of being watched. A man in a black hoodie lingered near the mirrors, no face visible beneath the cap. Nathan caught him in the side-eye reflection but said nothing. It was Thursday, quiet hours; the perfect time for ghosts to move unnoticed.
Downstairs at the Shikongo mansion, Catty descended to find Kuku and Monica mid-conversation. Their expressions hardened when they saw her.
"I'm sorry, Grandma," Catty said softly.
Kuku folded her arms. "Then tell that to Nate. Until you do, there's no engagement. And I stand by his decision — even if it stains this family's name."
"I love Nate," Catty whispered. "I'll make it right."
Monica smirked. "I dare you."
At the hospital, Evan left his mother's room only to find Auguste blocking his path.
"Where's Paige?" she asked urgently.
Evan's eyes darkened. "She's dead. You know that."
"Evan, I'm still your aunt," Auguste said, forcing calm. "Show some respect—"
Evan laughed dryly. "You must be high."
He brushed past her, but Auguste followed.
"Listen! I know you're protecting your sister, but her life is in danger—"
"I know that," he snapped. "Now stop following me before I call the police. I still have that evidence, remember?"
Her expression faltered. Evan smirked and walked away. "Thought so."
Vicky and Emily wandered through the open market, shopping for dinner, laughter soft between them. Then someone brushed Vicky's shoulder.
A whisper cut through the crowd.
"Your real name is Paige. They're after you. Be careful."
Before she could respond, the stranger vanished — and Emily was gone.
"Emily!"
The world spun. Heart racing, Vicky tore through the market until she saw a man lifting an unconscious Emily into a black SUV.
"Emily!"
The car sped off. Vicky darted toward a security guard arriving for his night shift.
"Please! Help me!" she cried, but her words came out broken, as if her mind was splitting again.
The guard blinked, confused.
Desperation overtook reason — Vicky snatched his gun and motorcycle, revved the engine, and shot off into the dark after the SUV.
At the Samuels residence, Evan entered to find the door ajar. Inside stood Ben, a man in uniform fiddling with wires.
"Who are you?" Evan demanded.
"Oh—sorry. Couldn't wait. I'm Ben, security contractor. Here to install the new system for Paige Victoria Samuels." He flashed his badge.
"You broke into my house to help?" Evan said dryly.
"I waited hours. I didn't break anything — just moved the locker."
Evan's brow arched. "Noted. I'll keep that in case I need to make your life miserable."
Ben chuckled nervously and finished the installation. "This is a tracker. Vicky needs to keep it with her at all times. It detects aggression within a fifty-meter radius — alerts us in under ninety seconds."
Evan turned the device in his hand. "Heavy… but smart. Thanks."
Ben left, then paused at the door. "Package delivery," he said, setting a box down.
"Got it," Evan murmured. "Now where did Vicky go…?"
Vicky's motorcycle cut through traffic, headlights streaking through the dark. The SUV swerved, speeding up. Inside, Emily stirred faintly.
At Shikongo Industries, Nathan entered his office — and found Adam rummaging through his drawers.
"What are you doing here?" Nathan's tone sliced through the air.
Adam froze. "You didn't send the factory project toll. Damien said you wouldn't be in today. I needed those agreement files."
Nathan stepped closer, voice low. "So you broke into my office… to check my cupboards? Did you try the safe too?"
"Nathan, I'm your uncle—"
Nathan's eyes flashed. "Don't pull the respect card now. In this building, you're not my uncle. You're just Adam. I separate family from business."
"I've run this office for ten years!" Adam snapped. "I know how things work."
"And I built it from nothing," Nathan replied coldly. "Now get out."
The two men locked eyes — decades of buried resentment tightening the air.
Adam finally turned, fury burning through his restraint, and slammed the door behind him.
The night was young — but the threads were fraying fast.And somewhere between the chase, the secrets, and the lies... Fate was quietly rearranging its pieces.