Catherine is working from home, her nose buried in her laptop. Her third company will launch soon, and her wedding is only two months away. Life is good.
"So, you're already in my brother's room?" Monica asks, leaning stylishly against the doorway.
"We're engaged—" Catherine begins, already sour of mood.
Monica scoffs. "Engaged? I don't see a ring there," she replies, striding toward the bed where Catherine sits.
"Listen, Monica, I don't have time for whatever you're trying to do here. I'm working," Catherine says, irritated.
Without warning, Monica shuts Catherine's laptop lid with force. The anger between them crackles in the air. In one swift motion, Monica throws the closed laptop across the room. It lands with a thud on the sofa bed, almost as if someone had set it there on purpose. Catherine's own anger bursts, and she stands up from the bed and slaps Monica hard across the face.
Monica's scream of pain fills the house, catching everyone's attention. Kuku Veronica and Betty come rushing in.
Catherine is stunned by Monica's reaction; she had just slapped her, but now Monica is clutching her face and crying as if Catherine had bitten her.
"What's happening here?" Kuku Veronica asks, concern etching her face. Betty runs over when she sees Monica on the floor, rolling in pain and wailing uncontrollably. Catherine can't find words to explain.
"Mom, Catty beat me up!" Monica sobs, tears streaking her cheeks. "She said I should never step foot in Xander's room!"
Betty shoots Catherine a controlled, angry glare.
"I didn't!" Catherine protests. "She threw away my laptop while I was working!"
Neither Kuku Veronica nor Betty seems inclined to believe her.
"In this house, we don't beat each other," Kuku Veronica says firmly. "And neither you nor Monica has the right to hover around Alex's room."
Catherine steps forward, eyes blazing. "She said she's his fiancée and I'm just a nobody that she'll get rid of—" Monica continues
"That's enough!" Catherine cuts her off angrily. She grabs her laptop from the sofa bed and clutches it to her chest. "I didn't expect any of you to believe me anyway," she mutters, then turns and walks out of the room.
Betty rushes to comfort Monica as if she's a little girl, while Monica smirks triumphantly through her tears.
Alexander sits in his office when his computer chimes with an email notification. He frowns. It's his private mailbox that sent the alert. He only receives mail there if he was the one who started the conversation—so this message is completely unexpected.
He opens it. The email has no subject and only one attached file. The sender's name is simply "Blue."
Who is Blue? he wonders.
He can't dismiss it as spam; spam would have gone straight to his spam folder. His private email is tightly protected, so there's virtually no chance of a stray spam message.
Carefully, Alexander opens the attachment. His eyes scan the document titled Samuels Group Property Papers. He blinks in disbelief. He was set to buy the Samuels Group through Vivian Ernest, the current CEO of the company. Yet these property papers claim the company belongs to Paige Samuels—the long-dead daughter of the founder. Paige had been listed as the owner "since the dawn of time," it says.
To Alexander, the document looks legitimate. It bears the Company Legitimacy stamp with a recent date—something you can't fake no matter how expert one is.
Then how in hell could Vivian's claim on the company be valid? he thinks.
He immediately picks up the phone and calls Ruben. Within minutes, Ruben is standing across the desk.
"I need you to run an extensive search on Paige Samuels," Alexander says without preamble, pushing the document toward Ruben.
Ruben's eyebrows shoot up. "Victor Samuels' daughter… you know her family supposedly died five years ago, right?"
Alexander turns the monitor toward Ruben. "You see this?" he points at the scanned stamp. "This can't happen if the owner is dead. You'd have to be around for the CL to legitimize your company," he explains. Company Legitimacy is a strict certification system; if Paige were truly dead, this paperwork shouldn't exist.
Ruben's eyes flick to the sender line: "Blue."
"Who's Blue? Where did you get this?" he asks.
"It came into my private mail," Alexander replies flatly.
"Private mail… and it doesn't have a return address—" Ruben starts, and Alexander interrupts.
"Are you investigating me?" Alexander snaps. "I don't care who sent it or why. I just know I can't buy the Samuels Group without their approval—their signatures. Find Paige Samuels. I need her to sell the company," Alexander says stoically.
Ruben hesitates. "Wait. You still want to buy it even after discovering Vivian might be hiding something and that Paige—who everyone knows is dead—might be back?" he asks, confused.
"She's not dead!" Alexander commands. "Just do it. I need to buy the Samuels Group," he says firmly, leaving no room for debate.
Ruben sighs.
He knows Alexander better than he knows himself. Alexander is driven by one thing: power. Five years ago, the Samuels Group had been the most powerful business in Windhoek. They used to scoop up contracts in seconds, before even a company like Shikongo Industries could blink. When Victor Samuels and his daughter Paige died in that fire, Alexander wouldn't have minded admitting that he felt relieved. At that moment, he became the most powerful businessman in the city, second only to the Elders he competed with silently in the corporate arena. Buying and controlling companies was how he ruled the business world.
So yes, Alexander was ready to make a deal with a ghost if it meant adding the Samuels Group to his empire.
"If this 'Blue' sent you this, what makes you think Paige would want to sell? This could be a warning—you should back off," Ruben presses.
"No," Alexander says, shaking his head. "I won't go back into the ditch. I met Paige once, by accident, at a business conference five years ago. The Samuels Group had just secured another bid—one I was also bidding on. She just casually played her trump card and beat me by a 75% margin. I was new then, but I was older than her. I can't handle that humiliation again," he says, teeth clenched.
"You were just beginning," Ruben says. "Paige started this business when she was young. Finding investors and winning bids is her job as CEO."
"I don't care," Alexander retorts. "Her company is in debt now and needs a savior. And that's me," he declares.
Dawn has barely broken when Vicky is already in the supermarket, pushing a trolley loaded with fresh stock. She spots Alexander by the tills, dressed in an expensive suit, writing something on a pad.
"Oh, what now?" she murmurs under her breath, trying to steer clear of him. She wheels her trolley to another cashier, hoping to pay and leave before he notices her.
But Alexander's sharp eyes catch sight of her, and his mood darkens instantly.
"Stop that," he orders the cashier, who immediately halts. Vicky frowns in confusion.
"Do you own this market too?" She asks sarcastically, unaware that he actually does.
"Yes. And you're banned from buying here," Alexander says coldly. He raises his voice so the other cashiers and a few customers can hear. "Everyone, listen up. This girl is banned from shopping here. Do you all understand?"
Vicky's mouth drops open. "What?! You can't do that!" she cries. She had come to buy a bag of cooking vetkoeks and cakes for her events. This market was the nearest one, and she had walked here early to get supplies.
"Yes, I can!" Alexander snaps. Before she can react, he grabs Vicky by the arm and drags her out of the store.
"Someone help me!" Vicky screams, writhing as he pulls her. Once they're outside, Alexander shoves her to the ground.
"Ow! You're hurting me!" she yells as she crumples onto the concrete.
"You refused my money, and I don't need yours either," he spits, anger flashing in his eyes.
He has gotten his revenge, and for a moment he feels satisfied. But looking at Vicky's weak, teary eyes, he's surprised to find his own eyes watering. He takes a steadying breath, trying to blink back the unexpected tears, then turns and walks back into the store as if nothing happened.
Vicky sits on the cold ground, crying silently with her head buried in her knees. She hugs herself against the ache in her arm. She knows Alexander hated her—but not to the extent of starving her out of business. She has no cooking flour left in the eatery and barely any rice or supplies. Sam had come in for them the other day and bought only a small stock—just enough to get them through the day, because that's what Tonia insisted they needed. Now, even though business had been slow for the past two days, they had just sold enough to buy a full stock. But that plan is dashed now; she's banned from the only store close enough to provide it.
After a few minutes, Vicky finally stands. She notices Alexander heading toward the parking lot in his suit. Desperation overcomes her pride. She decides to chase after him, to beg for forgiveness, and to explain the situation. She will have nothing to trade tomorrow if she can't restock her eatery.
Alexander turns and sees her approaching, her eyes red from crying. Vicky pauses, suddenly feeling someone's gaze, but the lot is almost empty, just 3-4 cars. She collects herself and steps forward.
Alexander's expression changes from irritation to concern. He breaks into a run and calls out, "Hey!"
Before she can stop him, he wraps her in a protective hug. Vicky feels his body heat and cologne, and, with a gust of wind behind them, instinctively bends his head towards her. Their foreheads bump together. Then a gunshot rings out, and a car screeches away in the distance.
They don't look around at the noise. They stand like that for a few long seconds, locked in the embrace. From afar, anyone looking would think they were kissing.