August 8th, 2025
At St. Evelyn's Home for Children, South Carolina - 4:05 PM
The orphanage was a strange mix of innocence and tension, as laughter echoed from the children playing in the common area, while the air near the entrance seemed dense, charged with uncomfortable silence. Ian, Victoria, Elizabeth, Jack, and Mathilda stepped inside with a silent heaviness, as if their feet weighed more than they should. No one said a word.
The scent of chalk, floor polish, and faint vanilla cookies wafted through the hall. Sunlight spilled across the tiled floors like golden ribbons, highlighting the painted drawings of kids pinned to the wall.
And there she was.
Madison. Kneeling among the children. Laughing, smiling, playing a card game as her radiant energy filled the room.
She was glowing - her toned arms flexed as she lifted one of the giggling toddlers into the air. The children adored her. She looked peaceful. Human. Like the burden she wore outside had been lifted temporarily.
But the moment she looked up and saw them - saw Ian - her entire expression warped. Her smile faltered. Her face twitched. That Wonder Woman glow twisted into something far less welcoming.
She handed the child back gently and stood up slowly. Her eyes locked on Ian. Her steps, slow but firm, carried her to the group. She didn't greet them. She didn't smile. She just… frowned.
"I'll be back later, kids," she said, her tone forcibly cheerful but her voice cracking slightly.
Then she brushed past Ian with a disgusted groan, muttering under her breath like he was an unpleasant memory resurfaced.
Jack raised an eyebrow, watching her leave.
"What the hell is wrong with that bitch?" he blurted.
A sharp turn.
Elizabeth, smiling wide and slow like a blade unsheathing.
"That's my fiancée you're talking about," she said sweetly. Her tone was calm. But the way she looked at Jack made the air drop a few degrees.
Jack swallowed.
Ian, meanwhile, was spiraling. The walls suddenly felt too close. His chest was tightening. His breath caught in his throat. The moment fractured - Madison's hatred, Elizabeth's unexpected visit, Victoria's glower - it was too much.
He turned and walked away without a word.
"Ian?" Victoria and Elizabeth called at the same time.
They looked at each other.
And then they stared.
Hard.
The scene shifted.
Ian stood at the orphanage's bathroom sink, hands trembling as cold water splashed onto his face. He stared into the mirror, heart racing, thoughts spinning.
Victoria's here. Elizabeth's here.
How the hell did Elizabeth know about this orphanage?
His reflection offered no answers. Just his tired eyes, sunk deep with sleepless nights and silent battles.
His mind whispered the same escape plan it always did: Run.
Run away like you always do.
But his heart -
His heart begged for confrontation. For peace. For resolution.
He took a deep breath. Inhaled. Exhaled. Again.
"I want my peace back..." he whispered.
"Please..."
Whether he was talking to God, fate, or just the mirror, it didn't matter.
He dried his face and stepped out.
Back in the living room, the atmosphere had grown even more complex. Elizabeth was laughing again, surrounded by the children. She radiated charm and warmth - the perfect image of a future mother.
Victoria, sitting across the room, watched her with daggers in her eyes. Jack sat stiffly, still perturbed. Mathilda kept checking her watch. Waiting for the roast turkey to be cooked in the oven. Ellie, in the corner, was on her phone, but her brows furrowed.
"Oh my God," Ellie suddenly muttered.
Mathilda perked up. "What?"
She turned her phone for her to see. "There was a battle. In India. The military. Against some lunatic cultists."
"Cultists?"
"Yeah... They were speaking in Latin. Zealots, apparently. Full-on kamikaze. It's all over the dark web."
Mathilda whistled low.
The world was falling apart outside, but Ian wasn't listening anymore. He walked to Elizabeth, where she knelt with a little girl braiding her hair. She looked up as he approached.
"Ian?"
He didn't speak. He reached out, gently took her hand.
She didn't resist.
They walked out back, into the orphanage's backyard. The air was crisp. The breeze light. But nothing felt calm.
Victoria, seeing them leave together, clenched her fists. Her glare followed them like a ghost.
Outside, Ian let go of Elizabeth's hand and turned to her.
"What exactly are you doing here, Elizabeth?"
"How the hell did you know about this orphanage?"
"And what's the motive of your sudden visit?"
"...again."
So many questions.
But Eliizabeth only looked at him like he was a precious relic. She stepped closer, her voice soft, seductive, layered.
"There are things you shouldn't know about me, darling," she said. Her Birmingham accent dripped like honey.
She placed her palm against his cheek.
"But one thing you should know," she whispered, "is that I'm not done with you."
Ian blinked. "Wha - what do you mean?"
She giggled. It wasn't lighthearted. It was dark. It was slightly unhinged. Something.....
....possessive.
"We still have many things to do in life," she said. "Together."
She leaned in. Close enough that her breath warmed his skin.
"You don't get to walk away from me, Ian. Not anymore."
Then she turned. And walked back into the orphanage.
Leaving Ian in the silence. Staring at the spot where she once stood.
Stuck in the chaos of past lovers, unraveling secrets, and a future coming fast, with no brakes.
Meanwhile...
In the upper eastern coast of US. Manhattan, New York. - 4:45 PM
The skyscrapers of Manhattan sliced through the clouds like glass daggers. From the top floor of a mega corporate tower - a sleek structure of steel, black glass, and ambition - Ruth stood before a room filled with some of the most powerful men in America.
She was radiant - clad in a perfectly tailored ivory business suit, her long black hair tied into a graceful bun, her posture immaculate, her voice as smooth as silk but firm like a commander's.
The glint in her eyes spoke of calculation, power, and legacy. Her accent was clean, polite, laced with a formal Japanese tone that made every syllable sound more refined.
Projected behind her were stats, charts, and visions - strategic plans to merge Japanese innovation and culture with American influence and wealth.
"As you know," Ruth said calmly, "the global economy hinges not only on money and tech - but diplomacy, elegance, and trust. Japan and the United States have long since enjoyed a mutually beneficial relationship. Tachibana's Vision is not just a company. It is a bridge."
The American CEOs, mostly silver-haired titans with billion-dollar net worths, leaned forward, captivated. Some nodded. Others whispered to one another, impressed.
Her fluency in both business and diplomacy was seamless. She smiled gently, yet never lost the assertive edge in her tone.
"Together," Ruth concluded, "we can change the face of corporate diplomacy. We can innovate, elevate, and dominate."
The room was silent - then erupted into applause.
"Unanimous," said one CEO, rising to shake her hand. "We're in, Miss Tachibana."
"Please," Ruth corrected gently. "Mrs. Tachibana."
Leo stood behind her, silent.
The men circled Ruth, shaking her hand, handing her cards, praising her brilliance. Cameras clicked. A few executives made awkward, clumsy attempts to flirt, but Ruth shut them down with nothing more than a dismissive blink and a cold smile.
But Leo…
Leo watched.
He had been watching. He was her husband on paper, her shadow in this marriage, her so-called equal. Yet in her world, he was a fading signature on a contract she had already rewritten.
His fists were clenched so tightly his nails nearly pierced skin.
His jaw was locked, muscles pulsing.
And his eyes were focused - not on the success, not on the applause -
- but on her.
On Ruth.
He remembered when she used to look at him the way she now looked at her quarterly reports. With admiration. With hunger. With… something.
She had betrayed him in the most sinister and heartbreak way.
She didn't tell him Ian was that.....special to her.
And if it wasn't for him to discover it, he would've drowned in foolishness and ignorance in this marriage.
Now, she was just treating like a tool. A useful tool for her ambitions.
For her goals..
For her Ian...
The thought burned like acid in his throat. His name was never mentioned, but Leo could feel it. In her smiles. In the way her phone lit up when she thought Leo wasn't looking. In the faint sigh she let out when she thought she was alone.
He didn't say a word. He just waited.
Outside the Boardroom - Minutes Later
Ruth walked with elegance, her heels clicking in perfect rhythm against the marble floor. Leo trailed beside her. The assistant bowed and handed her a new folder - another partnership proposal. She didn't even glance at Leo.
But then -
"Excuse me, Mrs. Tachibana?" a smooth, polished voice called behind them.
They both stopped.
A tall man with graying temples and a bespoke navy suit stepped forward. His posture was pristine, and his British accent rolled out like royalty.
"Sir Thomas Blake," he said with a bow. "Chief Development Officer of Ravenglass Beauty and Brain Co. Might I borrow a moment of your time?"
Ruth turned, graceful and poised. Her smile was professional - but the flicker in her eyes was fake. She didn't like being interrupted after a win.
"Of course, Sir Blake. What can I help you with?" she said sweetly.
"I must say," he began, "your presentation was… nothing short of extraordinary. Your protocols. Your efficiency. Your passion. It is a rare thing to find such clarity of vision in the world of cutthroat corporates. You've gained the respect of many in this room. Myself included."
Ruth gave a polite nod, but Leo sensed her impatience. She was ready to move on.
But Sir Blake wasn't done.
"My company is always on the lookout for excellence. But… we don't just collaborate with anyone. We test them."
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "Test?"
Sir Blake smiled with humble pride. "Yes. Before Ravenglass enters a partnership, we observe. We challenge. We explore how resilient your company culture is. How elegant your brand can remain under pressure."
"Ravenglass…" Ruth echoed, furrowing her brows. "That name. It sounds… oddly familiar."
Sir Blake beamed.
"It should. The company is owned by none other than the renowned British supermodel - Elizabeth Ravenglass."
The moment the name dropped, a flicker of something dark crossed Ruth's face. Her body tensed - but she quickly masked it.
"Elizabeth…" she murmured.
Sir Blake went on, proudly. "Yes. Miss Ravenglass founded the company as a movement to empower women - beautiful, intelligent, and capable. We create everything from neuro-cosmetics to biotech-enhanced fashion. Beauty and brains, quite literally. Miss Ravenglass believes that power must look good - and think better."
Ruth's smile faltered. Her eyes narrowed just slightly.