Amara hugged herself, gently rubbing her arms. The fear was there… not fear of people who intended to make her a victim of crime. What Amara feared was this—if she let her guard down or something happened to her, what would become of Vero?
She then grabbed her phone and called Lia at home.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Where are you right now?"
"I'm in front of Young Master Vero's school, Ma'am. Sorry… is something wrong?"
Amara tried to steady her breathing for a moment. "Don't leave that place, Lia. After Vero finishes school, take him straight home. If anyone gives him food or drinks, throw them away immediately—don't wait for him to consume them. Do you understand?"
"Y—yes, Ma'am. You've warned me about this repeatedly… did something happen, Ma'am?"
Amara gently massaged her temple. Her behavior now was driven by excessive fear, even though she had been monitoring things ever since she brought Vero to live with her.
"It's nothing. I just… please take care of Vero for me, Lia."
"I will definitely protect him, Ma'am. You don't need to worry."
The call ended. Amara took a long breath and exhaled slowly as she rose from her seat. She walked toward the large glass window overlooking the city.
"What should I do?" Kaisar asked Amara from his chair. The woman did not answer immediately. She did not even turn.
Kaisar approached her and stood beside her.
"Fear is human. You don't have to pretend to be strong and hide it."
"Do you doubt me because I'm a woman?" Amara asked.
Kaisar turned his head. He saw a calmness that seemed capable of swallowing everything before it. Yet even so, Amara was still a woman—a human being trying to rise from pain.
"I trusted you from the beginning, Amara."
"Then why were you silent during all those times we met in prison, Doctor Diamond? You could have told me what you saw."
"Because nothing is as simple as it looks. You weren't ready yet. The people who met you there could've been someone's pawns. You were just a free punching bag," Kaisar said, making Amara fully look at him.
Amara fell silent. He was right. She had been imprisoned, her movements extremely limited—no power, no one to trust, no hand to hold.
"You want to rely on me, hm?"
Amara continued staring at Kaisar without answering. More precisely, she was surprised that someone still believed she wasn't a murderer.
"We'll make a perfect pair…"
Amara crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze now mixed with annoyance. Kaisar chuckled softly at her expression.
"You know… I'm very skilled in a certain field. A scalpel wound is usually clean, straight, and smooth-edged, unlike a kitchen knife that leaves rough edges."
His words implied that his work would be clean—not like ordinary hired hands.
"I need a reason why you want to help me, Doctor Diamond."
Kaisar fell silent for a moment, looking at Amara who demanded his best answer. "At least… I know I'm still useful to someone."
Amara watched Kaisar raise his hand, blocking the sunlight coming through the large window.
He wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking at his own hand, as if he had experienced a terrible failure that made him feel useless.
After lowering his hand, he smiled at Amara.
"You want to know another reason, hm?" Kaisar asked.
"You have another secret?"
"Seven years ago, I saw a female prisoner sitting alone under a dim light.
That's when I realized… sapphire isn't blue, but the color of someone who remains elegant even when her life collapses."
Amara paused and looked at him. Since seven years ago, Kaisar's face had hardly changed. The only change she had noticed from their many encounters was—
Thud!
"Ah! Why—" Kaisar winced as Amara stepped on his foot.
"Stop flirting. It won't affect me!"
Kaisar laughed softly despite the lingering pain. "At least your reaction is more alive than seven years ago," he said casually.
Amara snorted and turned away a few steps.
However, her faint smile slowly disappeared when Kaisar spoke again.
"Amara… I'm not joking anymore." His voice lowered slightly. "The folder I gave you isn't an empty threat. They're moving faster than I expected."
Amara immediately turned. "Be clear."
Kaisar took out his phone and showed a photo of a man standing not far from Vero's school gate, taken from a distance.
"I got this from your informant. He appeared twice this week. I deliberately withheld the information to see his objective."
Amara's heart beat faster.
"Charlie's man?"
"No." Kaisar looked at her. "Richard's lawyer."
The room suddenly felt silent.
"I know he's started fighting me."
"An emergency custody request," Kaisar answered calmly. "If they can prove you're paranoid and endangering the child… the court can transfer Vero temporarily."
Amara's hand slowly clenched.
"They're waiting for you to panic. Waiting for you to make a mistake."
Amara suddenly grabbed her bag. She wanted to meet Richard and make that man rot in prison. But Kaisar immediately held her wrist.
"Don't go in with emotion."
"I just want to talk."
"You don't want to talk, Amara," Kaisar said flatly. "You're going to destroy someone."
Amara glared at him. "Let go."
Kaisar didn't move for a few seconds… then slowly released her.
"I'm coming with you."
Inside the stuffy detention room smelling sharply of floor cleaner, Richard looked disheveled. His face was tired, but the moment he saw Amara—a faint smile appeared.
"So you came after all."
Before he could stand, Richard was shocked by Amara's action.
SLAP!
The loud sound echoed in the room, bouncing off the cold concrete walls. Even the guards were startled, their hands reflexively touching the communication devices on their waists.
Richard froze, his head tilted sideways as a red mark slowly appeared on his thin cheek.
Amara trembled, her breathing uneven because she wanted more than just to slap this man.
"How dare you touch my child."
Richard wiped the corner of his lips with the back of his hand and chuckled softly. "You say that as if I intended to hurt Vero, Amara."
Amara grabbed the collar of Richard's orange uniform across the barrier table. Her knuckles turned white, restraining an anger close to exploding.
"Your lawyer approached Vero's school. You think I don't know?"
Richard's eyes turned cold, his relaxed glint instantly replaced by a sharp, piercing stare.
"Someone who just got out of prison for murder deserves to have their mental health questioned."
Kaisar stood behind Amara, his presence threatening even in silence. His gaze dropped sharply, locking Richard in place.
"A fraud suspect worrying about a child's safety?"
Richard looked at Kaisar with disdain, searching for a gap to strike back.
"And now you're already bringing another man?"
Kaisar smiled slightly—a smile that felt nothing like friendliness. He looked straight ahead, ignoring the provocation.
Amara pulled Richard's collar tighter, forcing him to lean forward until their faces were only inches apart. She no longer shouted. Instead, she lowered herself, her voice soft—a whisper gentle yet cold like ice against Richard's neck.
"From now on, be careful with the people you meet… and with any food or drink in this place. Because you'll never know whether it's an accident… or me."
Richard stared at her. For the first time, doubt crossed his eyes. His arrogance cracked at the seriousness in Amara's expressionless gaze.
Kaisar gently pulled Amara's shoulder, signaling that this place was no longer healthy for her.
"Let's go home."
But before leaving, Amara stopped. She stood straight, her back facing Richard, shoulders still stiff. Without turning, she spoke softly—her voice striking directly at Richard's weakest point.
"If I do exactly what you and your father did seven years ago… are you willing to become my first puppet, hm?"
Instantly, Richard lost his words. His face turned pale, and the hand resting on the table began to tremble violently.