It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the town was still alive with movement. Workers hurried down the streets, commuters squeezed through the traffic, and shoppers filled the mall in restless waves of noise and motion.
Victoria parked one of the Carlos Resorts company cars outside the shopping mall in town. Since she was acting as their event planner for the day, Mr. Timly had ordered her to use one of the company vehicles until she was done with her work.
She only needed a few things before she could begin showcasing her talent in catering and event planning.
"Just some rosemary, some honeys…" Vicky murmured to herself as she checked her list and moved through the store aisles.
Then she felt it.
Someone was watching her.
Vicky slowed slightly and glanced around the shelves. A girl her age stood not far away, staring at her in a way that made the air feel strange. The girl looked familiar, but Vicky could not place her anywhere in her life. Still, she did not have time to think about it now. What mattered was getting what she needed and proving herself worthy of working with Carlos Resort.
"You really look out of place," a voice said behind her.
Vicky did not need to turn around to know who it was.
"You shop with a piece of paper… here, this isn't Goreangab Market," Saima said again, her voice sharpened with mockery when Vicky ignored her.
"Just lose this thing. You're embarrassing yourself," Saima added.
Before Vicky could stop herself, Saima snatched the paper from her hand and threw it to the floor.
It took everything in Vicky not to strangle her right there.
She drew in a slow breath, then exhaled, forcing a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"What do you want, Saima?"
"Now you're talking," Saima said with a satisfied smile. Then, just as quickly, the smile vanished. "I need my gig back."
"What gig?" Vicky asked, her tone careful, though every muscle in her body was tense.
"Vicky, I've got something in store for you, and I will destroy—"
"Hello, is this your paper?"
The voice came from behind Vicky, calm and unexpected.
She turned.
An elderly woman stood there, dressed in expensive fabric and adorned with elegant jewelry around her neck and wrists. A pair of glasses rested on her face, and there was something in the way she carried herself that demanded attention without asking for it.
"Yes, Kuku, it's mine. Thank you so much," Vicky said respectfully as she bent to pick up the paper Saima had tossed to the ground.
Saima rolled her eyes and walked off, clearly irritated that she had been interrupted.
But Kuku Veronica did not move.
She kept her eyes on Vicky for a long moment, studying her so intently that it made Vicky feel exposed, as though the woman could see straight through her.
Vicky straightened slowly, uncomfortable under the older woman's gaze.
"I'm Victoria," she said at last, her brows knitting together. "I'm sorry… do I know you?"
Kuku Veronica blinked, as though snapping out of a trance.
"I beg your pardon," she said softly. "You might think I'm being rude, staring at you like that."
Vicky gave a small, awkward smile. "No, no. It's okay. I'm really beautiful, so people do get star-struck."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Kuku Veronica laughed.
Vicky laughed too, though her mind still lingered on the strange look in the woman's eyes, and on the girl from earlier, still somewhere nearby, still watching.
Something about all of it felt wrong.
Something about it felt like the beginning of trouble.
In the underground AID private library, Natasha was bent over a computer, studying data on the screen with sharp, focused eyes. The room hummed quietly with the low sounds of machines and the distant pulse of hidden activity.
The elevator chimed.
Ndeshi stepped out, still in her uniform.
"Where's Dad?" she asked immediately.
"In the lab," Natasha replied, removing a printed sheet from the printer. "Come on. I'm heading there too."
They made their way down to the lab together.
When they arrived, Natasha held up the paper she had just printed. It showed a blurred figure, barely visible from the camera feed.
"Here is the chart I was able to pull from the camera feed," Natasha said, handing it to Simon.
Simon took the page and studied it, his expression tightening.
"What camera feed?" Ndeshi asked.
"There's a lot you need to catch up on," Natasha said, not looking away from Simon. "So be quiet for now."
Then she turned back to him. "The normal feed doesn't show anything. Someone who doesn't know about the Invic Gadget—especially NSPD—wouldn't see a thing. So my guess is that AID was stolen by one of us."
Simon's face darkened.
"Forget AID," he said slowly. "Most of the serum that's been stolen is the healing serum. That serum can heal extensive internal wounds in less than an hour. It was something Paige created, and it was never even properly tested in labs. So why would the thief take that?"
Ndeshi folded her arms, the pieces already clicking together in her mind.
"So we all believe Paige is alive," she said.
She did not need to be caught up. She already knew what had been going on.
Before anyone could answer, the computers beeped.
Simon pressed a button and answered an incoming call.
"Just checking in, guys. I'm heading to the conference now. Did Roberts get the possible mugs?" Ruben asked through the video call.
Roberts walked in just then.
Ndeshi looked up at him and smiled. "Still looking hot."
Roberts shot her a brief smile, but his attention was already on the work.
"Yes, Ruben," he said, handing Simon the images of Paige and what she might look like now.
Simon scanned through them quickly before sending them to Ruben.
Ruben's expression changed the moment he saw them.
"What's wrong, Ruben?" Natasha asked, noticing the shock in his face.
"I know this girl," Ruben said, staring at the image. "And trust me… that's not her."
He held up the picture again, and this time the image on the screen made the room go still.
"It's Victoria," he added. "She owns an eatery in Goreangab."
Simon frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'm just saying," Ruben replied, still looking troubled, "it would take a whole lot of masking and acting if this girl is Paige."
He paused.
"Paige hated disguise. Hated masks. Even undercover work."
Simon's eyes narrowed.
"Ruben, please scout her tomorrow and get back to me as soon as possible," he instructed.
Alexander was driving when his phone rang.
He answered it at once.
"Boss, I think you're being followed," the voice said urgently.
"I know," Alexander replied, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "I've been followed for a while. Just keep an eye out."
He ended the call immediately.
His pulse was already pounding.
He swallowed hard and pressed harder on the accelerator.
The car behind him sped up too.
Another call came in.
This time it was Ruben.
"Not now, Ruben," Alexander muttered, his heart beating fast, though he tried to steady his breathing before Ruben could hear anything unusual.
"I'm heading home to change now," Ruben said over the line. "Need anything?"
"No," Alexander answered.
Then he hung up.
And drove faster.
Lately, he had been closing deals, signing contracts, and winning bids and projects one after another. It was only natural that other businessmen would begin to resent him. He had long gotten used to the danger that came with being a billionaire in the city.
That was why he never told his family. That was why he never told Ruben what really happened.
He did not want them dragged into the shadows that followed him.
In Ruben's car, he glanced down at the iPad in his hand, where the graphs were climbing fast.
His jaw tightened.
"I think Alexander is in danger," he said quickly. "Pull over and call yourself a cab."
Without waiting, he took control of the car and drove off at speed.