Midnight, Rina’s New Apartment.

  The city lights shimmer beyond the gss walls, casting a soft silver glow across the luxurious bedroom. The evening had stretched long—wine, conversation, ughter, silence. And now, something deeper.

  Rina stands before the window in a silk robe, heart pounding, unsure if it's from fear or release. Elise steps behind her first, wrapping her arms gently around her waist. Her lips graze Rina’s neck, slow and reverent. A breath escapes Rina’s lips—half-reluctance, half-surrender.

  Hezri approaches without a word, his eyes locked on hers. His hand brushes her cheek, the touch featherlight, patient.

  RINA (whispering):

  "I don’t have to be alone anymore… Not even with this part of me."

  Elise kisses her shoulder. Hezri leans in, his lips meeting hers—tender at first, then firm. Rina doesn’t resist. Her fingers thread through his shirt as Elise’s hands explore the curve of her waist, her hips. The warmth of human connection—something she had long compartmentalized—returns in waves.

  No shame. No cameras. No threats. Just breath, skin, trust.

  .....

  -Next Morning.

  Rina awakens in soft sheets, sunlight spilling into the room. She reaches for her phone zily—but freezes.

  Headline on her screen: “Another Leaked Moment: ‘Lustful Professor’ or Political Pawn?”

  A still image. Blurred but unmistakable—her silhouette, lips parted, tangled in silk and limbs.

  Her pulse races. Her stomach drops.

  HEZRI (offscreen, from the doorway):

  “I saw it too.”

  She turns, startled. Hezri is standing there, already dressed. His tone is calm, but resolute.

  HEZRI:

  “Someone’s pying a long game. But it ends now.”

  He crosses the room and sits beside her.

  HEZRI (firmly):

  “You are safe with me, Rina. And I don’t abandon the people I protect.”

  She searches his eyes. There’s no condescension, no demand. Just an unspoken promise.

  RINA (voice trembling):

  “I didn’t ask to be the center of anything.”

  HEZRI:

  “No, but that’s exactly why you belong at the center.”

  ***

  Late Night — Rina’s Apartment, Post-Leak Scandal

  The soft sound of rainfall patters against the windows. In the dim light of the bedroom, the world outside feels far away—like another timeline, another Rina.

  Hezri is beside her, calm and composed as ever. Elise Carter, graceful and grounded, gently runs her fingers through Rina’s hair as they lie together. Their presence surrounds her—not just warmth and skin, but something deeper. A cocoon of safety, admiration… even love.

  Their touch is no longer tentative. It’s affirming. Not just sensual, but restorative.

  RINA’S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE (as her eyes flutter closed):

  I spent years fighting to be seen as more than a body… more than a scandal. And now, here I am, letting them touch every part of me—without shame. Without fear.

  I used to think polygamy was a cage. A relic of control. But… maybe it was only a cage when love was absent. When the man at the center was selfish. When women were pitted against each other.

  But Elise? Lena? They don’t compete. They build. They don’t belittle… they uplift. And Hezri… he doesn’t consume. He listens.

  Her hand reaches for Elise’s. She kisses Hezri back—not out of submission, but a surprising sense of power.

  RINA (softly, aloud, half to herself):

  “If this is polygamy… if this is what it can be… then maybe I was wrong.”

  Hezri looks at her, eyes searching hers.

  HEZRI:

  “You were never wrong. You were just never given a reason to imagine something better.”

  Rina exhales slowly, her mind and body finally syncing in crity. She wasn't being consumed—she was choosing. Freely.

  And in that storm-wrapped night, Rina Matsui let go of the past. Not in weakness, but in willful transformation.

  ***

  Rural Texas – Sasha McCin’s Property, Just Outside Lubbock

  Early Evening, Golden Hour Light.

  The sun dips behind scattered trees as Sasha McCin stands on the gravel path outside her modest farmhouse. The wind rustles through dry grass, a single porch light flickers on. She eyes the incoming Toyota Camry kicking up a trail of dust as it slows to a stop.

  The car doors open. Rina Matsui steps out first—dressed down in jeans and a windbreaker, sungsses still on. Then, from the passenger side, a strikingly young woman emerges—barely in her twenties, wearing utility boots, bck cargo pants, and a dusty gray hoodie.

  Sasha (low voice, guarded):

  “You came.”

  Rina (softly):

  “I told you I would.”

  Ezra (offering a hand, her voice crisp and cool):

  “Ezra Quinn. I’m with Ops. Logistics.”

  Sasha studies the girl’s face—sharp, unreadable—and nods once. She doesn’t ask questions. She knows not to.

  Sasha (gesturing toward a small barn nearby):

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Interior: Converted Barn – Hidden Room

  Inside the barn, Sasha unlocks a narrow door hidden behind hay bales. She leads them into a dim corridor, flicking on a series of old hanging bulbs. The room beyond is surprisingly modern—insuted walls, secure steel lockers, satellite uplink tucked into the corner, and a folding table with fresh files and maps.

  Sasha (quietly, with pride):

  “Built this out with a few friends after the first church raids. It’s off the grid, even from our own people. Only used when there’s cross-state transport.”

  Ezra walks slowly, taking it all in.

  She pulls out a small device, scanning the room for surveilnce bugs. It beeps once—clear.

  Ezra (to Rina):

  “We can move anything or anyone from here within twelve hours. North, South, doesn’t matter.”

  Rina nods, her voice calm but heavy:

  “Then I want this pce connected to Femme Trust channels—quietly. No fgs. Just readiness.”

  Sasha raises an eyebrow.

  “You trust her?” (meaning Ezra)

  Rina (with quiet certainty):

  “She reports to Lena Cho directly.”

  That’s all Sasha needs to hear.

  ...

  Later, Outside by the Porch.

  The three women sit on the creaking porch bench. The sky is now indigo. Crickets sing. Ezra steps away to check her phone.

  Sasha (to Rina, voice more personal now):

  “You sure you’re okay? I’ve been seeing things… online. About you.”

  Rina exhales, brushing her fingers through her hair.

  “I’m not okay. But I’m here. That’s the best I can offer right now.”

  Sasha (with a faint smile):

  “You’re stronger than they think. Even if you’re tangled in a lion’s den.”

  Rina looks at the stars, murmuring:

  “Maybe I’m learning to speak lion.”

  Sasha pours bck coffee into ceramic mugs as Rina Matsui and Ezra Quinn sit across the rustic kitchen table, the hum of cicadas faint outside the walls. Rina leans forward, eyes sharp, asking softly:

  Rina:

  “You said there are functioning polygamous communities here in Texas… without 6C authority? How do they even operate under the radar?”

  Sasha (nodding slowly):

  “Yeah. I’ll tell you what I know—but this stays between us three.”

  She takes a sip, then ys out the quiet reality in a low, measured voice:

  Sasha's Expnation:

  “There are about four zones in Texas where underground polygamy is alive and functioning. We're talking self-governed, mostly rural encves. The biggest are around Terlingua, Presidio County, parts of San Angelo, and a ranchnd corridor west of Odessa.

  No one's filing paperwork. These aren’t legal marriages. But the people living there—they operate as if they are. One man, two or three women, sometimes four. They run like small cooperatives. Everyone shares work, nd, resources. Some call themselves ‘plural households’—others don’t call it anything at all. Just... life.

  No state agents ever come out there. Why would they? It's desert, dust, and miles of dirt roads. Law enforcement isn’t invested in breaking up consenting adults pying house in nowhere Texas.

  But here’s the trick—they don’t funt it. You’ll never see these families online, or on any church registry. They’re invisible. Even the kids are homeschooled or listed under one mother's name. Sometimes they use fake cousin arrangements when they go to town.

  Most of these setups were inspired by 6C, even though they’re outside its reach. Podcasts, Telegram leaks, old sermons—those ideas crossed the border. Some families want the w. They say it’d give the wives property rights, or at least legitimacy. Others? They want zero government eyes, not even 6C’s.”

  Ezra Quinn (cutting in):

  “And the men? Are they like the 6C polygamists? Control freaks, or different breed?”

  Sasha:

  “Mixed bag. Some are decent, try to build something equal. Others are worse than 6C—they don’t even pretend to give the women a say. No rules, no oversight. I’ve pulled three women out of those pces this year alone.”

  Rina (quietly, almost to herself):

  “So even without state control… polygamy spreads. People imitate power.”

  Sasha (nods solemnly):

  “Power always finds a way. But the real question is—will someone build something better before these remote zones go full patriarchal cult? That’s what keeps me up at night.”

  ***