Vicky's motorcycle roared through the chaos of traffic, chasing the black SUV ahead. Her pulse pounded with the engine. She spotted another SUV — same color, same model — both speeding through the city like black bullets.
Inside one car, Emily slept peacefully, her small hand resting on her lunchbox.
Vicky leaned forward, eyes burning. That's her.
She flew past the real vehicle, chasing the decoy instead.
"She lost us," one of the kidnappers said, laughing with relief.
But relief was short-lived.
As the real SUV slowed through the Central Business District, the sound of gunfire shattered the air. All four tires exploded. Smoke curled. The car screeched to a halt.
Through the haze, Vicky stepped into view — gun in hand, eyes like cold fire.
"Surprise," she said, a dangerous grin on her lips.
Two masked men stumbled out, dragging Emily — still unconscious — with a gun pressed to her head.
Vicky's heart cracked, but her face remained carved in steel.
"I've dealt with many of you," she said, walking toward them without fear.
"Move one more step," one warned, "and I'll blow her brains out."
Vicky tilted her head. "Was that supposed to scare me? Oh, you're threatening me?" She gave a low, amused hum. "Cute."
The kidnappers faltered, confused.
One of them stepped forward and pressed his gun against Vicky's temple.
"I know you, Paige," he hissed. "You pretend you're untouchable — but this little girl is your weakness. You ruined my family. My uncle rotted in prison because of you. So here's the deal: I kill her, I take you, and you live long enough to regret it."
Vicky's face froze — her breath uneven for a moment — but her voice stayed velvet and steady.
She reached up slowly, her fingers curling around the barrel.
"You really want revenge?" she said softly. "Then do it right. Don't use this cheap toy. At least… make it luxurious."
She twisted her wrist — click — the safety locked, in a flash second.
The kidnapper pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
"What the—"
Vicky's gun flashed. Bang. The bullet ripped through his leg. He screamed, collapsing. The second man bolted, only to freeze as police sirens wailed in the distance.
Vicky ran to Emily, dropping her weapon, pulling her sister into her arms.
"I'm so sorry, baby," she whispered, tears streaking her face.
The wounded kidnapper crawled away, spitting blood.
"This isn't over, Paige! I'll come back for you!"
Vicky didn't answer. She held Emily tighter as blue lights flooded the street.
At the Samuels' house, Tonia burst in to find Evan already dressed.
"Where's Vicky?" she asked.
"Went to fetch Emily."
"Good. Because we need to talk."
She closed the door. Evan frowned.
"This is serious," Tonia began.
"I know." Evan teased
"No, you don't. We need to tell her the truth."
Evan stiffened. "What? No."
"Yes. Before she finds out herself. Evan, everything that happened years ago — it's repeating. She's slipping."
"I have it under control."
"No, you don't!" Tonia snapped. "You know Vicky — she'll dig until she uncovers every secret. And she's scared, confused. You can't let her live like this."
"She's fine."
"She's not! And you're lying to yourself if you think this silence is helping."
"She's my sister," Evan said coldly.
"And she's my best friend," Tonia shot back. "Tomorrow morning, we tell her. Together. I won't let her drown in this nightmare alone."
At Shikongo Industries, Nathan was still in his office, calling through to the project team.
"I just received four agreement letters," he said sharply. "Where's the fifth?"
One of the men shifted awkwardly and handed him a torn document.
"It came from Mrs. Samuels' residence," he said. "She destroyed it — said you should 'face her at home.'"
Nathan's eyes darkened, a slow smile curving his lips.
"Really?" he said softly. "She said that?"
"Yes, sir."
Nathan leaned back in his chair, grin widening.
"Alright then. Looks like we've got ourselves a little lawsuit game."
He hung up, the smile never leaving his face.
The night had not yet ended — but every lie told was beginning to echo.And for Paige Victoria Samuels, the hunt had just turned personal.