Malik sat alone in his quarters, the tablet Nyla had given him glowing faintly in the dark.
He scrolled through the accident files again and again, each line carving deeper into his mind. Uncle Jay's name lurked behind everything—the staged accident, the anonymous payments, the carefully crafted illusion of generosity.
The truth was suffocating.
He saved my mother… from a wound he created himself.
Malik's fists clenched. The oath he had sworn now felt like a chain tightening around his throat. Loyalty, once clear, was now poisoned.
Could he walk away?
Or would Jay destroy everything he loved the moment he tried?
Sleep never came.
By dawn, he found himself pacing the garden—the same place Nyla often sat, scrolling through her phone, playing the part the world expected of her.
But today, when he approached, her eyes lifted almost immediately. Sharp. Knowing.
As if she had been expecting him.
"I can't serve two masters," Malik said finally, his voice low, strained. "I don't know where I belong anymore."
Nyla studied him for a moment, then spoke with unsettling calm.
"Then don't."
He frowned slightly.
"Serve one," she continued. "Me. But let him think you're still his."
Malik's brows tightened. "You mean… lie to him?"
"Not lie," Nyla corrected softly. "Irrelevant truths. Tell him what doesn't matter—what I wear, where I go, how long I stay online. Let him feel informed."
Her gaze hardened slightly.
"But the things that matter? Those belong to me."
Malik exhaled slowly. The girl standing before him wasn't the one the world saw. There was nothing careless about her. Nothing soft.
"If that's the path…" he said carefully, "then there's something you should know."
Nyla tilted her head slightly. "Go on."
"The surveillance doesn't stop in the house," Malik said. "Your cars are bugged. Both yours and your father's. Microphones. Trackers. Everything goes back to Jay's people."
Nyla went still.
So that was it. That was how he stayed ahead.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
But her mind had already moved ahead.
If the cars were compromised… then she needed one that wasn't.
And more importantly—she needed a reason to get it without raising suspicion.
⸻
The next day, Nyla went live.
Dressed in a cropped cream sweater, hair sleek and effortless, she smiled into the camera like nothing in the world weighed on her.
"Guys," she said playfully, pouting slightly, "I think it's time for an upgrade."
Comments flooded instantly.
She turned the camera toward her current car. "Don't get me wrong, I love her… but I've outgrown her."
The suggestions exploded:
"G-Wagon!"
"Lambo!"
"Bentley babe 🔥"
Nyla laughed lightly.
"A Lambo? No, no… too loud. I need something sleek. Powerful. Elegant."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret.
"Something that says I'm that girl… but also…"
A pause. Just enough.
"…something that fits when I start showing up for my dad's company."
The reaction was instant chaos.
Speculation. Excitement. Approval.
Exactly what she wanted.
⸻
That afternoon, accompanied by Malik and Cole, Nyla arrived at one of the city's most exclusive luxury car garages.
Cameras flashed the moment she stepped in.
Rows of polished machines gleamed under bright lights—Bentleys, Mercedes, Lamborghinis.
But Nyla didn't hesitate.
Her eyes locked onto one car.
A deep black Range Rover Velar.
Sleek. Controlled. Predatory.
"This one," she said calmly.
The salesman barely had time to begin his pitch.
"Excellent choice, Miss Nyla."
She circled the vehicle slowly, fingers brushing the surface.
This wasn't about luxury.
This was about control.
Inside this car, she would finally have silence.
No microphones. No hidden listeners.
Just her.
When she slid into the driver's seat, everything felt… right.
"Perfect," she murmured.
⸻
By the end of the week, the internet was flooded.
Photos. Videos. Edits.
Nyla tossing her keys with a caption:
"When the old just isn't enough anymore 💅✨ Hello, Velar."
Her followers loved it.
But inside the family—
It was even better.
Venna stormed into the living room. "Mum! Nyla just bought a Range Rover Velar! I want one too!"
Cherry barely looked up, sipping her wine.
"Let her waste money," she said with a faint smirk. "The more she plays, the less she learns."
A pause.
"She is no threat."
⸻
That night, Nyla sat alone in her new Velar, parked quietly at the edge of the estate.
The leather smelled new. The dashboard glowed softly.
And for the first time—
Silence.
No cameras.
No microphones.
No invisible eyes.
Just her.
Her fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel as her thoughts sharpened.
Her father was weakening.
Her enemies were confident.
And now—
She finally had space to move.
Nyla leaned back slightly, her expression calm but cold.
This wasn't just a car.
It was her first territory.
Her first controlled battlefield.
And the war—
Was only just beginning.