The hidden room hummed softly with quiet electricity.
Multiple screens glowed in the dim blue light, casting shifting reflections across Nyla's face as she sat cross-legged before her system. Her posture looked relaxed—but her eyes were anything but.
They were sharp.
Alert.
Watching.
Feeds streamed in real time—angles from across the estate. The shared pathways, the connecting lounges, the private entrances to each building.
Nothing escaped her.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the desk as one particular feed caught her attention—the driveway in front of Jay's residence.
Right on cue—
A sleek black G-Wagon rolled forward, headlights slicing through the calm evening.
Nyla leaned slightly closer to the screen.
Inside, she could clearly make out Edward behind the wheel, composed as always. Beside him sat Vera, her posture straight, her expression calm but unreadable.
The car turned smoothly along the internal road, heading deeper into the estate… toward their own residence.
Edward has always been a private person thus his building is deeper into the estate in fact it's the last building at the end of their family estate after Aunty Martha's building
The family estate was designed like a world of its own—deliberate, enclosed, and impossible to ignore.
From above, it formed a perfect oval, a rare architectural choice that gave the entire compound a sense of unity… and quiet surveillance. Every building curved along the perimeter, facing inward toward a shared central space—a wide, open courtyard that served as both a gathering ground and a silent witness to the family's unspoken tensions.
At the very front of the estate stood the residence of Alaric.
It was the largest of them all—not overly extravagant, but commanding in presence. Its design balanced modern glass structures with solid stone, reflecting both strength and restraint. As the central figure of the family's legacy, his home naturally occupied the most prominent position, facing the main entrance of the estate.
To the left of his residence, following the gentle curve of the oval, was the home of Aunty Martha.
Unlike the others, Martha's house carried a quieter elegance. It was less imposing, surrounded by carefully maintained greenery that gave it a peaceful, almost detached aura—fitting for someone who chose distance over conflict despite her deep ties to both sides of the family.
Also, considering the fact that she's rarely around, her home is always quiet .
To the right of Alaric's residence stood the house of Jay.
His home was bold and intentional—sleek lines, darker tones, and a structure that felt calculated rather than welcoming. It mirrored the man himself: strategic, controlled, and always watching.
Next to Jay's house, continuing along the curve, was the residence of Cherry.
Her home leaned more toward luxury and display. Large windows, polished finishes, and carefully curated aesthetics gave it a glamorous edge. It stood close enough to Jay's to suggest alliance—yet far enough to remind anyone paying attention that even allies kept their distance.
Behind Cherry's house, slightly set apart from the main curve but still within the oval's embrace, was the guest house.
Fully furnished.
Fully functional.
Yet completely unoccupied.
Its stillness made it almost eerie—as though it was waiting. Positioned beside Martha's residence, it formed a quiet, overlooked corner of the estate, one that few paid attention to but none could completely ignore.
And then—
Almost perfectly placed between Cherry's house and the guest house, slightly inward along the curve, stood the residence of Edward.
His home was refined but understated. It didn't compete for attention, yet its structure spoke of precision and order. Large enough to reflect his status, but restrained enough to signal his distance from the constant power struggle surrounding the family.
It was positioned in such a way that it connected both ends of the estate—close enough to Cherry and Jay, yet not far from Martha.
A bridge.
Or perhaps—
A neutral ground.
At the center of it all lay the shared sitting area—often referred to simply as the hub.
A circular lounge space designed for family gatherings, discussions, and the occasional forced unity. It was the only place where all paths naturally led, a symbolic center that reminded everyone—no matter how far apart they tried to stand—
They were still bound together.
By blood.
By history.
And by a legacy none of them could truly walk away from.
Nyla considering all these leaned back slowly,folding one arm across her lap.
"So," she murmured, her voice low and thoughtful, "they've delivered the message."
A family dinner.
Of course.
Edward wouldn't make a move without closing the loop.
Which meant—
Cherry and Jay already knew.
Her lips curved faintly.
Good.
That meant the board was shifting.
The car disappeared from the camera's frame as it approached their building, but Nyla's gaze lingered on the now-empty driveway.
Because something about them—
Didn't sit right.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she pulled up archived files—information she had gathered quietly over time.
Carefully.
Patiently.
Edward.
Vera.
Two people who didn't fit into the chaos of the family the way everyone else did.
"And yet…" she murmured softly.
They weren't ordinary people .
Far from it.
Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard.
Edward founder and CEO of Foundation Hospital.
A hospital he built from the scratch without any form of influence or help from uncle Jay
Respectable.
Stable.
But not…
Maximized.
Nyla's eyes sharpened.
"He could even scale it if he wants," she muttered.
"Easily."
With his access.
With his influence.
With his stake in the family's interconnected empire—VALE and Jay's Group, two arms of the same origin, tied by blood and history.
He could have expanded aggressively.
Dominated the healthcare space.
Built something massive.
But he didn't.
He kept it contained.
Measured.
Intentional.
Almost like he was avoiding something.
Her gaze shifted.
To Vera.
A major partner at Veritas Financials.
Nyla exhaled slowly.
Audit.
Compliance.
Financial intelligence.
The kind of expertise that could rip through corporate structures like VALE and Jay's Group with surgical precision.
And yet—
She stayed out.
No advisory role.
No visible influence.
No involvement.
Nothing.
Nyla leaned back further, her fingers pausing mid-air.
"That's not indifference," she said quietly.
"That's restraint."
Her eyes darkened.
"No one that capable stays neutral by accident."
Not in this family.
Not with this kind of power at their fingertips.
Which meant—
"They're choosing not to act."
And that choice?
Was deliberate.
Her thoughts shifted.
Naturally.
To Cherry.
Nyla let out a quiet scoff.
"Greedy and controlling" she murmured.
Cherry didn't just want influence.
She wanted control.
Over everything.
Jay's Group.
VALE.
The entire structure.
As though it all existed for her to inherit.
Nyla's lips curved faintly, but there was no humor in it.
"She really thinks she can have both."
"Is it even possible" she mutters.
As if history didn't matter.
As if the past had no consequences.
That thought alone—
Shifted something deeper inside her.
Her fingers moved again.
This time—
To something far more important.
Her mother's journals.
The screen flickered softly as handwritten pages appeared.
Dates.
Thoughts.
Truths.
Things no one else knew she had.
Nyla's expression softened… just slightly.
Then sharpened again as she began to read.
"Benjamin is worried again…"
Benjamin Valtieri.
Her grandfather.
The founder.
The real owner of both VALE and JAYS GROUP
"…the operational costs are rising faster than revenue…"
Her eyes moved steadily.
Ben's Wheels.
What VALE used to be.
Before everything changed.
She scrolled.
More pressure.
More struggle.
Then—
"…Jay says he knows someone who can help…"
Nyla paused.
Her jaw tightened.
Of course he did.
She kept reading.
"…I don't fully trust it…"
A slow exhale escaped her.
"Help…" she whispered.
Her eyes darkened.
She already knew the truth.
But seeing it like this—
Made it sharper.
More real.
She scrolled further.
Then—
"…Benjamin is gone."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
"…the will has been finalized."
Her fingers stilled.
"…Jay handled most of it…"
Of course he did.
"…Alaric received Ben's Wheels."
The insolvent firm.
The one drowning.
The one no one wanted.
Nyla leaned back slowly.
"Manipulated," she said quietly.
Jay hadn't helped.
He had calculated.
Positioned.
Left her father with what looked like nothing.
"If only you knew…" she murmured.
Because what came next—
Changed everything.
She scrolled further.
"…we're restructuring…"
"…cutting costs…"
"…expanding beyond transport…"
Nyla's chest rose slightly.
This was it.
The turning point.
Where Ben's Wheels stopped dying—
And started evolving.
"VALE…" she whispered.
No longer just transport.
Now—
Logistics.
Freight forwarding.
Warehousing.
Maintenance.
Fuel supply.
Insurance.
Consulting.
Last-mile delivery.
An empire.
Built—
From scraps.
By her father.
And mostly her mother.
Not Jay.
Not Cherry.
Her mother is actually the major reason why Ben's wheel wasn't completely sold off by her dad.
Alaric has already made up his mind to sell it off after grandpa Benjamin's death but due to the memories of his beloved wife Anaya , who was his girlfriend then.
Anaya started working in Ben's wheels as a clerical assistant. Later on she was promoted to be Pa Benjamin's secretary.
She was not only Pa Benjamin's secretary but his personal assistant too when he was still running Ben's wheels.
Thus she was very close to Pa Benjamin and his family and that was how she met Alaric who just got back to the country after his studies abroad.
The couple fell in love so quick and Pa Benjamin was so eager to give his blessings.
Aside Ben's wheels, Pa Benjamin also had Ben's brews, a beverage producing company. It was actually the most popular beverage company then and of cause was thriving.
So he handed to his first son Jay and focused on Ben's wheels so as to also develop it better.
Jay also did a good job on expanding Ben's brews.
It has evolved into JAYS GROUP involved in the production, distribution and marketing of their own beverage even though they still completely depend on VALE for its entire distribution and logistics
Thinking about all these.
Nyla's eyes hardened.
"And now…"
"They want it back."
Her jaw clenched.
"How do you throw something away… then come back to claim it when it becomes valuable?"
There was no answer.
Only greed.
Nyla slowly closed the file.
The room fell quieter.
But her thoughts grew louder.
Sharper.
"This isn't just about survival anymore," she said softly.
"It's about ownership."
Her gaze shifted again.
To two people.
Edward.
And Vera.
Nyla leaned back, folding her arms.
"They're the only ones that don't fit," she murmured.
Everyone else?
Predictable.
But them?
Different.
Quiet.
Capable.
Deliberately uninvolved.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"The dinner…" she whispered.
That would be her test.
Her opportunity.
To finally understand—
Were they allies?
Or enemies?
Her thoughts settled on Vera.
Sharp.
Intentional.
"If she's as good as her position suggests…"
"…then she sees through numbers the same way I see through people."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Useful," Nyla murmured.
Very useful.
Audit.
Financial tracing.
Internal exposure.
If only Vera could be brought to her side—
That would change everything.
And if not—
Then she would know exactly what kind of opponent she was dealing with.
Nyla exhaled slowly.
Her gaze steady.
Focused.
"At the dinner…" she whispered.
"I'll watch."
Every word.
Every reaction.
Every silence.
Because in a game like this—
Neutrality never lasts.
Sooner or later—
Everyone chooses a side.
Her lips curved slightly.
Cold.
Certain.
"And when they do…"
"I'll be ready."