The wind rustled through the thick trees as the group moved cautiously, their boots sinking into the damp forest floor. Aid's signal blinked steadily on the tracker, leading them deeper into the thicket.
"Tracker says we're here," Natasha murmured, staring at the blinking dot on the screen.
Robert halted and looked around. "What do you mean here? There's nothing here but trees."
Another agent crouched down, brushing away leaves. She held up the small, blinking device. "Because it is here."
Silence fell.
No Aid. No body. No clue.
Only the tracker—quiet, unblinking.
They returned to the organization headquarters, disappointment thick in the air like smoke after battle.
At the office, Nathan's thoughts spiraled like a hurricane. He stood in the representation room, pacing, ranting, barely noticing the stunned eyes of the team seated before him.
"She tore the money in half—in half—like it was toilet paper," he ranted, waving his hands. "She wasn't angry. She wasn't scared. It was like... like she didn't even know what money is."
"Nathan—" someone tried.
"She wore rags—actual rags! Her slippers were hanging by threads! But her voice... her voice cut through me like a blade. Deep. Cold. Unapologetic. Every word she said felt like it was carved into my damn chest."
Silence. His staff stared in confusion.
Realizing he had derailed completely, Nathan stopped and cleared his throat. "Sorry... I meant to say—the meeting is postponed until further notice. I—I need to go."
Without another word, he left the room, his mind far from corporate figures or quarterly reports.
Damien found him in his office, slouched in his chair like a defeated king.
"What was that?" Damien snapped. "Nathan, the investors are arriving tomorrow. You can't just cancel—"
"I'm not thinking straight, Uncle," Nathan interrupted, rubbing his temples. "I don't know what she did to me... It's like she bewitched me."
Damien's tone softened. "What happened to you, Nathan?"
"I can't explain it," Nathan muttered. "She humiliated me. Disrespected me. And yet... I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me mad."
Damien moved to hug him, but Nathan pulled away. "Please... I need to clear my head. Just handle things for now."
Without waiting for a response, Nathan walked out, leaving Damien bewildered.
Damien immediately dialed his wife. "Sofia. Nathan's coming home. Something's wrong."
"What happened?" she asked urgently.
"I don't know. He's... broken. Rambling. Please take care of him. He's not himself."
"I'm on it. Where is he now?"
"Call Ruben. Have him drop Nathan at the hospital."
In the car, Nathan fumed like a boiling kettle, his knuckles white as he gripped the seat.
"That witch walked into my life like a curse," he hissed. "I hate her. With every part of me. I wish nothing but pain on her."
He let out a guttural scream.
"She didn't even notice me. The nerve! Wearing some flea-market outfit, insulting me like I'm beneath her. Me!"
Ruben kept his eyes on the road, hiding a smirk.
Nathan's phone rang, but he didn't care.
"I'm getting a call, sir—" Ruben began.
"Stop talking!" Nathan barked—and then, in a fit of rage, shoved Ruben right out of the car.
Ruben landed hard on the sidewalk as the car screeched away.
"Hello? Ruben? Why do I hear shouting?" Sofia's voice buzzed through the phone.
"Ma'am..." Ruben groaned, brushing dirt off his clothes. "Nathan threw me out of the car."
"What?! Why?!"
"Some lady on the street humiliated him. Now he's spiraling."
"I'm coming home right now. Just get a taxi, okay?"
Meanwhile, across town, Vicky was tying her hair back furiously in front of a cracked mirror.
"These rich people think they can step on everyone," she muttered. "Mr. Fancy Shoes better learn—money can't buy soul."
She picked up her bag. "I swear, if there's no event today, I'll scream."
She slammed the door behind her and stormed toward the community center.
At Sarge Events, Tonia blinked in surprise.
"Vicky? You're early. I thought you had market shifts this morning?"
"Changed my mind. Got anything for me?" Vicky asked, breathless.
"Two birthdays at the orphanage."
Vicky lit up. "Perfect. I'll head to the hospital after that—around 2 PM."
Tonia exchanged a glance with a woman standing nearby. The woman nodded slightly.
Tonia hesitated. "Vicky… maybe it's time to rethink your policies."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… start charging for birthday events. At least something small. You're not making any money."
Vicky's face hardened. "I'm not robbing kids of joy to make a buck. I'll find another way."
"Where will you get N$400,000 in two months, Vicky? This is life and death. Your mother—"
"I know what's at stake, Tonia! But if I start charging kids, I'll lose everything. I'll figure it out."
"Vicky… you don't even have a stable job."
"But I have hope. I have faith. And that's more than money can buy."
Tonia exhaled deeply, shaking her head.
Vicky's eyes flared. "If I ever hear that you—or anyone—charged those kids in my name, I swear you'll wish you'd never met me."
Just then, her neighbor arrived, holding a giggling child in party clothes.
Vicky's expression softened as she knelt down to greet them, hiding the storm still raging inside.