The world did not slow down after Don Pedro's arrest.
If anything, it accelerated.
By sunrise, every major news outlet carried the story. Don Pedro Alvarez-business magnate, philanthropist, untouchable kingmaker-had been taken into custody on charges ranging from conspiracy to obstruction of justice.
But Aham knew better than to celebrate.
Men like Don Pedro never built empires alone.
The first sign came at the courthouse.
As Don Pedro was escorted inside, his lawyers swarmed like vultures, expensive suits and cold eyes. Cameras flashed. Shouts filled the air.
"Innocent until proven guilty!" one of them barked.
Don Pedro did not look afraid.
He looked calculating.
Aham watched from across the street, hands clenched in his coat pockets.
"He's smiling," Clara murmured.
"Because this is phase two," Aham replied.
Inside a private hospital room, Kelly lay pale but alive.
Jane Smith stood beside her bed, a document folder in hand.
"This is your one chance," Jane said. "Full cooperation. No omissions."
Kelly swallowed hard. "And after?"
"You testify," Jane replied. "And you disappear."
Kelly's eyes filled with tears. "I deserve prison."
Jane's voice softened slightly. "You deserve consequences. But you also deserve to live."
Kelly signed.
The deal was sealed.
By noon, the counterattack began.
A judge issued a temporary injunction freezing key evidence "pending review." One witness suddenly recanted. Another vanished.
Clara slammed a file shut.
"He's pulling strings from a cell."
Jane nodded grimly. "Which means someone else is pulling with him."
Aham stared at the city skyline.
"There's another hand," he said. "I can feel it."
That hand revealed itself in the form of a letter.
No return address.
No fingerprints.
Just four words typed neatly in black ink.
YOU WON TOO EARLY.
Aham folded the paper carefully.
Clara's voice was steady but her eyes were sharp. "He's not alone."
Jane exhaled. "Don Pedro's network runs deeper than we mapped."
That evening, Aham and Clara stood alone on the balcony of the safe house.
For the first time in weeks, there were no alarms, no sirens, no urgent calls.
Just silence.
"I used to think survival was victory," Aham said quietly. "Now I know it's only the beginning."
Clara turned toward him.
"You survived prison," she said. "You survived betrayal. This won't break you."
He met her gaze, something vulnerable flickering beneath his calm.
"You found me," he said. "You pulled me out when I was buried alive."
Clara's voice softened. "I never stopped looking."
Their hands brushed.
This time, neither pulled away.
Across town, in a darkened boardroom, a group of men watched the same news footage.
One of them turned off the screen.
"Don Pedro failed," he said.
Another voice replied from the shadows. "Then we finish what he started."
A name appeared on the digital screen behind them.
PROJECT KNIFE.
Back at the hospital, Kelly stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
She remembered the knife in Don Pedro's hand.
She remembered Aham's silence.
Her phone vibrated once.
A new number.
UNKNOWN: Deals can be broken.
Kelly's breath caught.
She turned her phone face down and closed her eyes.
In his holding cell, Don Pedro listened as his lawyer whispered urgently.
"They're moving without us," the lawyer said.
Don Pedro's smile finally faded.
Aham stood at the window as night fell, the letter still in his pocket.
"Someone thinks this story ends with my death," he said.
Clara stepped beside him.
"Then we rewrite it."
He nodded slowly.
Outside, the city lights flickered like warning signals.
And somewhere beyond them-
A new enemy sharpened a blade that had never belonged to Don Pedro.
---