The day after the gala was cold in ways the sun couldn't fix.
Thiana stood in front of the towering glass windows of Cabello & Sons, coffee untouched in her hand, lips painted with defiance but heart blurred with doubt. Lagos buzzed outside—a city that never slept, never blinked. But inside, things felt frozen. Dead in places she couldn't name.
The gala replayed in her mind like a haunting.
The look on Zade's face when he held up that contract.
Her name printed so clearly on a page she hadn't remembered signing.
Her own disbelief washing over her guests, drowning every ounce of dignity she'd worn.
People had whispered. Smiled politely. Pulled out their phones. She felt their judgment like confetti laced with poison.
She had to know what was going on. And she knew exactly where to start.
The private archives of the Cabello estate were guarded—not by security systems, but by legacy. Buried under old contracts, sealed ledgers, and vaults of digital records was the truth.
Thiana arrived just before dusk, wearing a simple blouse and jeans—no glamor, no pretense. She didn't want the staff knowing she was cracking open the empire.
Zade had kept meticulous records. Every transaction, every deal, every whisper of power threaded into the company's DNA.
It was in Room A7, buried beneath old architectural contracts, that she found it.
A folder labeled "Clause 47—Property Transfer: Cabello & Sons."
Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.
Inside it was a stack of documents she had never seen. And yet… her signature was everywhere.
Initials. Dates. Agreements.
But something was wrong. She remembered signing the divorce documents, but this folder contained things she'd never been shown. A side deal. A subsidiary transfer agreement. Behavioral compliance protocols attached to her use of funds.
Legal language twisted into weapons.
And beneath all the paperwork… a USB.
She plugged it into Zade's old laptop, heart thudding.
Video File: CONFIDENTIAL — Internal Review
Zade's face filled the screen, seated behind a desk, posture still, voice calm.
"She thinks she's winning," he said softly. "But the game ended before she knew we started."
The recording was timestamped a week before the divorce.
"She signed the pre-asset reallocation form during the fundraiser in February," he continued. "Clause 47 ensures control remains in Cabello blood. I'll let her think she has power. Then I'll take everything."
Thiana's breath shattered.
Her knees buckled as she sank into the leather chair behind her.
How had he planned this so perfectly? She thought she had baited him, dismantled the cold distance between them—but he had never even flinched. He had watched her fall and paved the floor beneath her with her own blood.
The next day, she met with Lawrence in his penthouse overlooking the Marina.
He kissed her cheek. "You're tense."
"I found something," she whispered, eyes heavy.
"What kind of something?"
"A trap. A contract. Signed and dated without my knowledge."
Lawrence's expression twisted.
Zade's name hung between them like fog.
Thiana grabbed his wrist. "Tell me the truth. Did you know?"
Lawrence hesitated—but not for long.
"No," he said. "I suspected something was off. But I didn't know this."
She wanted to believe him.
She needed someone to believe.
For the first time, she leaned into him. Not just emotionally—but strategically. She needed his fire, his hate, his thirst for revenge.
Together, they could burn Zade's empire to the ground.
Or so she thought.
But across town, Zade was already making his next move.
Lucian Lancer had returned.
A man with a shattered pelvis and a vendetta carved into his soul. A man Zade had humiliated in front of the board when he attacked Thiana that night.
Lucian had waited. Watched. And now, he wanted blood.
Zade's guards intercepted the first threat—a package laced with a recording of Thiana sobbing in the archive room, her voice trembling as she read the contract out loud.
Zade watched it twice.
Then he made the call.
"Bring her in," he told his second-in-command.
The knock on Thiana's door came at midnight.
When she opened it, she saw four men in suits—silent, unblinking.
They didn't speak. Just handed her an invitation.
Cabello Council Emergency Assembly. Attendance mandatory.
Her hands shook.
Zade was summoning her—and she had no way out.