Minutes later, Vicky sat in her cabin, sipping on a Coke, the bitter aftertaste of stress lingering on her tongue. Her phone rang—Nate.
She answered, silent, waiting for the caller to speak.
"Hello?" Nate's voice came through.
Vicky choked mid-sip, coughing uncontrollably.
"Hello?" he repeated, concerned now.
"Yeah, speak. I can hear you," Vicky croaked, her voice hoarse and dull.
"Nathan Shikongo speaking. Who am I speaking to?"
"Victoria Samuels. How may I help you?"
"You approved an engagement event earlier today—for Nathan Shikongo. I sent you an email about it?"
"Oh… right," she said, squinting as if trying to place the voice. (Why does he sound like Necro?) she thought.
(She sounds just as stubborn as Necro...) Nate thought at the same time. "I have a small request."
"I'm all ears," Vicky replied.
Just then, Veena's voice rang from the other room, slightly muffled, but urgent.
"They didn't steal anything…" Veena muttered, clearly addressing someone outside—the neighbors, maybe.
Nathan continued, "My grandmother wants to meet you. Today. Over lunch."
Vicky blinked. "Alright… Where should we meet?"
"Anywhere you choose."
"Let's meet at Carlos Conferences and Events. I have another client coming around that time anyway."
"Noted," Nate said, and the call ended.
Elsewhere…
At the office, Ruben arrived and relayed everything that had unfolded. Tension gripped the room.
"This isn't the time for blame or finger-pointing," Ruben said, eyeing Natasha and Robert.
"The 'wife' in question is Vicky," Ruben continued, holding up a photo. "And this might be the same one Simon mentioned."
"You told us about Vicky," Robert shot back. "But not that she's Nathan's wife."
"Because she's not," Ruben snapped. "She just happened to be there during Nate's breakdown."
"No," Natasha interjected sharply. "Whoever this woman is—she knows Nathan well. Too well. And she's close to him. Think about it—who, besides us and his family, knows that Nathan has severe pyrophobia? That without emotional support, he could literally suffocate?"
She let the silence hang.
"Exactly," Natasha added. "And now that their attempts with guns failed, they're attacking his psyche."
"This leads directly to Paige's involvement…" Ruben muttered.
"You mean Vicky," Natasha clarified. "Simon says they're planning to kill Nathan's 'wife' first… before they target him. The Simon sisters would do anything for their father."
"Enough talk," Robert snapped. "Let's assign roles and protect our Aid. That's why we're here."
Ruben stood in silent thought. (Someone's leaking information from my house. None of us would betray Nate… then who's the thorn in the Shikongo family?)
Meanwhile…
Nathan was just about to leave when Catty entered his room.
"Wow, you look stunning!" she beamed.
Nathan barely glanced at her. "This is me at my worst. You should've seen me yesterday at the party."
"Oh gosh, I really wanted to go…" she pouted.
"Yeah, well, do you need something? I'm running late," he said, edging toward the door.
But Catty stepped closer. Her hand grazed his arm. Nathan flinched.
"What are you doing?" he asked coldly.
"We're getting married soon," she whispered. "We'll be husband and wife. Why not… practice now? Make things better between us?"
Nathan stepped back. "Stop it," he said, voice rising.
Catty stumbled back onto the bed, stunned by his sudden rejection.
"Why are you acting like this? I'm your fiancée. Technically… my body belongs to you," she said.
"You, of all people, should know how I hate this kind of behavior," Nathan snapped. "Why can't a couple just… be friends? Why does it always have to be about romance?"
Catty's face twisted in disbelief.
"Nathan, I'm a woman. I have emotions. I have desires. I want to kiss my husband, laugh with him, tell him I love him. I need love and affection—I'm not made of stone like you!"
Nathan calmed, visibly struggling with guilt. "I'm not ready for that. I'm sorry, Catty. If you feel like you're suppressing yourself for my sake…"
He paused.
"…Then you're free to walk away. I'll cancel everything I've arranged."
Catty gasped, her face pale. "No, no, no… that's not what I meant! I can wait, Nate. I'll wait a thousand years if I have to. You're mine. I love you."
Nathan looked down, still unsettled.
"…Are you sure?"
"I am. But I need you to be sure too. And I'm sorry, Catty… but I don't think I romantically love you either. You're my friend. Just… my friend."
Nathan's heart sank at the confession, but also… felt relief.
"I don't want to keep explaining myself like this," he said softly.
Catty's smile faded. Her hope was slipping.
"If you ever fall in love like you said you once did," she whispered, "I'll make sure you fall for me instead."
Nathan said nothing.
"Go," she smiled weakly. "Come back when you're ready, hubby. I'll still be here."
She threw herself onto his bed as he walked out—quiet, confused, and heavier than before.