The car door shut with a soft, expensive thud, sealing Nyla and Cherry into a silence that was anything but peaceful.
Nyla leaned back into the plush leather seat, her expression calm, almost indifferent, as if this moment meant nothing to her. Beside her, Cherry adjusted her sunglasses slightly, though the tinted windows already shielded them from the morning glare. Still, it wasn't the sunlight she was guarding against—it was observation.
Because she was watching Nyla.
Closely.
The engine purred to life as the driver pulled away from the estate, the quiet hum of movement filling the space between them.
Cherry's gaze slid sideways again.
Something about this felt… off.
Nyla never asked for things. Not rides. Not help. Not proximity.
And yet, here she was.
Cherry finally broke the silence.
"So," she began casually, though her tone carried an edge beneath it, "what exactly are your plans?"
Nyla didn't look at her immediately. Instead, she adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, her movements slow and deliberate, before letting out a soft chuckle.
"My plans?" she echoed lightly, finally turning her head.
Her lips curved into a faint, almost teasing smile.
"I'm just here for a ride," she said, her voice smooth with sarcasm. "With my only female cousin."
For a split second, Cherry blinked.
Then she let out a short laugh, shaking her head.
"Only female cousin?" she repeated, amused. "That's what you've reduced me to now?"
But Nyla only smiled faintly and turned her gaze back toward the window, effectively ending the conversation.
Cherry watched her for a moment longer, then scoffed quietly and looked away.
Whatever game Nyla thought she was playing… she wasn't impressed.
But Nyla wasn't playing.
At least, not in the way Cherry thought.
Because while Cherry dismissed her, Nyla's fingers moved subtly against the side of her bag.
Careful. Precise.
Hidden from view.
In one smooth motion—so quick it would have been impossible to notice unless you were looking directly at her hands—she slipped a tiny, nearly invisible device beneath the seam of the seat.
A microphone bug.
It settled perfectly into place, blending seamlessly with the car's interior.
Nyla didn't react.
Didn't pause.
Didn't even blink.
She simply rested her hand back on her lap, her expression unchanged.
That… had been her real reason for getting into this car.
Not the ride.
Not the conversation.
Information.
Cherry talked too much when she felt comfortable.
And now?
Nyla would hear everything.
The car rolled steadily toward the company, the towering structure of VALE gradually coming into view.
As they approached, Cherry leaned forward slightly.
"Stop at the gate," she instructed the driver.
Nyla turned her head, her brow lifting just slightly.
Cherry glanced at her, her lips curving into a thin smile.
"You can walk from there."
There was no attempt to hide the intention behind it.
Control. Distance. Hierarchy.
Cherry didn't want them arriving together. Even though they don't work in same building.
Didn't want anyone associating her too closely with Nyla's sudden… involvement. Especially because she's also well know in VALE.
For a brief moment, silence lingered between them.
Then Nyla smiled.
Softly.
Amused.
"Of course," she said easily.
Because it didn't matter.
She had already gotten what she came for.
The car slowed, stopping just at the grand gate of the company.
Nyla reached for the door, stepping out gracefully without another word.
The morning air greeted her, crisp and alive, carrying the quiet buzz of activity from within the company grounds.
She closed the door gently behind her.
And then she walked.
Inside the car, Cherry watched her through the tinted glass as Nyla strolled toward the building.
There was something… different.
Not dramatic.
Not obvious.
But something in the way she walked.
Too composed.
Too confident.
Too… intentional.
Cherry frowned slightly.
"What exactly are you up to?" she muttered under her breath.
She reached for her phone almost immediately.
If there was one person who could settle her mind—at least temporarily—it was her father.
The call connected quickly.
"Dad," she said, her tone sharper than usual. "There's something strange about Nyla."
On the other end, Jay's voice came calm, almost dismissive.
"You're overthinking it."
"I'm not," Cherry insisted. "She's acting different. She asked me for a ride this morning. Nyla. Asked me."
There was a brief pause.
Then a low chuckle.
"She has no one else," Jay replied. "You forget that. Her world is small. Always has been."
Cherry's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's not what this feels like."
Jay sighed lightly.
"Listen to me," he said, his tone turning more serious. "The directors in her father's company are already in my control. Every single one of them."
Cherry's grip on the phone tightened.
"They're just waiting," he continued smoothly, "for the right moment. For Alaric to… step aside permanently."
A faint smile tugged at Cherry's lips.
"And when that happens?" she asked.
Jay's voice dropped, almost satisfied.
"We take everything."
Cherry leaned back into her seat, exhaling slowly.
The tension in her chest eased.
"You're sure she's not a threat?" she asked one last time.
Jay didn't hesitate.
"She's a distraction at best."
Cherry nodded to herself.
"Alright."
The call ended.
But even as she lowered her phone, her gaze drifted back toward the building.
Toward the figure of Nyla, now disappearing inside.
And for a reason she couldn't explain…
The unease didn't fully leave.
Nyla walked through the company gates like she belonged there.
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
The security guards greeted her respectfully, though some still carried faint traces of curiosity in their eyes.
She ignored it.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she entered the building.
That was when she felt it.
A stare.
Not casual.
Not curious.
Intent.
Nyla slowed slightly, her eyes shifting just enough to catch sight of the source.
An old woman.
Dressed in a janitor's uniform.
Standing near the corner of the hallway.
Watching her.
Not glancing.
Not observing.
Watching.
As if she knew her.
Completely.
Nyla's brows knit faintly.
For a moment, their eyes locked.
There was something unsettling in the woman's gaze.
Not hostile.
Not fearful.
But… knowing.
Too knowing.
Nyla broke the eye contact first.
And kept walking.
She didn't stop.
Didn't question it.
But she didn't forget it either.
By the time she reached the elevator, her phone vibrated.
She stepped inside just as the doors slid shut.
Malik.
She answered immediately.
"You took your time," she said calmly.
Malik's voice came through, tense.
"You need to be careful."
Nyla leaned against the elevator wall, her expression sharpening slightly.
"What happened?"
"Your uncle," Malik said. "He's asking questions. A lot of them."
Nyla's eyes darkened just a fraction.
"And?"
"I told him I've been sick," Malik continued quickly. "That I haven't been working. That I don't know anything."
Nyla exhaled slowly.
"And he believed you?"
There was a pause.
Then—
"No."
Nyla almost smiled.
"Of course he didn't."
Malik let out a frustrated breath.
"He knows something's off. He just doesn't know what yet."
The elevator doors opened.
Nyla stepped out, walking toward her office.
"Good," she said simply.
Malik blinked on the other end.
"…Good?"
"Yes," Nyla replied. "Let him wonder. Let him doubt. It keeps him distracted."
She pushed open her office door.
"I need you to do something for me."
"I'm listening."
"Line up social events," she said. "Brand engagements. Appearances. Anything that keeps me visible."
Malik frowned.
"You want to look… unserious?"
"Exactly."
There was a pause.
Then a quiet chuckle.
"You're playing them."
Nyla's lips curved slightly.
"They already decided who I am," she said. "I'm just giving them what they expect."
Malik nodded, even though she couldn't see him.
"I'll handle it."
Nyla walked over to her desk, setting her bag down.
"Good."
There was a brief silence before she spoke again.
"Malik."
His voice softened slightly.
"Yes?"
"Did you get your answers?"
The line went quiet.
For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't respond.
Then—
"Yes."
Nyla didn't interrupt.
"I found everything," he continued, his voice lower now. "About my mother. About the accident."
His breathing shifted.
Tighter.
Controlled.
"And?" Nyla asked quietly.
Malik exhaled.
"You were right."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"I know who he is now," Malik said. "What he's capable of."
Nyla's gaze hardened.
"And?"
Malik's voice turned cold.
"I know what he did to her."
Another pause.
Then, slowly—
"And I know what he'll do to anyone who stands in his way."
Nyla leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable.
"Good," she said softly.
Because now…
Malik wasn't just loyal.
He was aligned.
And that?
Was far more dangerous.
Across the VALE building, Cherry stepped out of her car, her heels striking the ground with controlled authority.
Her mind was calmer now.
Her father had reassured her.
Everything was under control.
And yet…
As she walked toward her office, one thought lingered.
Quiet.
Persistent.
Unsettling.
What if…
For the first time—
They were wrong about Nyla?