Reporters. Cameramen. Lenses trained like weapons.
The moment Joseph’s car came into view—
CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
Flashes erupted, blinding, relentless. Cameras fired like machine guns, each shot chasing his face, his every move.
David stiffened at the question. His expression, calm even under the daily nuisance of reporters these past three days, hardened instantly. His jaw clenched.
“Someone’s leaking it. Someone is really targeting us.”
He moved instinctively, standing shoulder to shoulder with Joseph.
Joseph’s patience—already threadbare—snapped thinner. His voice came rough, edged with restrained fury.
The crowd ignored him, voices overlapping, microphones shoved closer.
Inside Enigma, on the Tenth floor, Thomas had been seated at his desk. A faint commotion outside drew his attention.
He swiveled in his chair, picked up the remote, and tapped a button. The blinds peeled open, revealing the scene below. Reporters swarmed Joseph and David, flashes strobing like lightning.
Thomas’s face drained.
He shot up from his chair and rushed for the door.
Meanwhile, at the gates—
David tried reason, his voice firm but controlled.
But one reporter shoved forward, voice sharp, accusatory.
WHAM!
The words cut off with a violent crack. The reporter flew back, stumbling across the pavement, gasping for air.
The crowd froze. Silence crashed over them, stunned faces processing what just happened.
David’s heart sank.
Joseph stood unmoving, fist still half-clenched from the strike. His chest heaved once, twice, before he broke the pose and shoved the next few bodies aside, forcing a path through sheer weight of presence.
No apology. No explanation. Just forward.
David followed quickly, lips pressed thin. He didn’t speak a word.
Elsewhere—
Amayra nearly dropped her coffee as the live feed played on the big screen at the Fast News Channel office. Reporters on-site were still shouting, cameras scrambling to capture Joseph storming through the gates.
Her mouth hung open, disbelief tightening her chest.
She slammed the cup onto the nearest desk, coffee sloshing over the rim, and grabbed her bag.
She didn’t say where she was going. She didn’t need to. The fire in her eyes gave enough of a hint.
Joseph stormed through Enigma’s glass doors, ignoring the shocked gasps of employees in the lobby. His aura was suffocating, his steps predatory. He wasn’t here for work. He wasn’t here for peace.
He was here for
His eyes scanned the ground floor, sharp as blades. And then—he spotted him.
Adam, walking casually toward the escalator, head bent over his phone, oblivious.
Joseph’s voice cut through the air, low but sharp.
Adam paused, turned—
THWACK!
The punch landed before the words could sink in. Joseph’s fist smashed across his jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. Gasps erupted around the lobby.
Adam groaned, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. He pushed himself up, his voice dripping venom.
Joseph didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, grabbing Adam by the collar with both hands, lifting him half off the ground. His voice came in a guttural growl, barely restrained.
Adam’s eyes widened, confusion painted across his face.
Joseph’s grip tightened, veins bulging along his arms. His voice broke into a snarl.
The sound of shuffling feet grew louder. Employees from the first floor crowded the railings above, peering down into the lobby. The glass guardrails filled with faces, murmurs buzzing like hornets.
Adam lifted his chin, meeting Joseph’s glare with silence.
Joseph’s breath grew ragged, his teeth gritted, his voice bursting out—
His roar shook the lobby, echoing through every floor of Enigma.
The building held its breath.
The lobby froze under Joseph’s roar. Adam’s silence hung heavy, the crowd buzzing with whispers above.
And then—
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Thomas’s voice cut through the air, calm but sharp, carrying authority that silenced even the murmurs. He stepped forward, each stride deliberates, his gaze locked not on Adam, but on Joseph.
Joseph turned, his fists still clutching Adam’s collar. For a moment, their eyes clashed—fury against Thomas’s cold steel. Then, without waiting for Joseph’s answer, Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder.
The command wasn’t a request. It was an order.
Reluctantly, Joseph released Adam, his collar slipping from his fists. The younger man slumped back, rubbing his jaw, but Joseph didn’t spare him a glance. His eyes stayed fixed on Thomas as he followed him past the crowd, their footsteps echoing through the silence.
Inside Thomas’s office…
The blinds snapped shut with a sharp click as Thomas tapped the control. The office dimmed, the soft glow of the city cut away, and the room felt suddenly small and dangerously private—an arena away from the prying lenses and the roar beyond the glass.
Joseph’s jaw worked. He paced once, the leather of his shoes whispering across the floor. He stopped, turned, and the office air seemed to sharpen around him.
he said, voice tight as a snapped wire.
Thomas didn’t flinch. His face hardened, an immovable wall of authority.
Joseph stepped closer until the space between them fizzed with heat. His voice dropped, a growl folded into words.
The silence that followed was heavy, a pressure that pressed against their ribs like the calm before a storm.
Then the door exploded inward.
Joseph’s head snapped toward her, muscles knotted. There was exhaustion shadowing his face, but the embers of rage still glowed in his eyes.
Amayra closed the distance, her finger stabbing the air between them.
Thomas’s gaze flicked between them; jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed at his temple. For the first time, Joseph felt the weight of both mentor and friend pressing against him, their voices a suffocating chorus he couldn’t ignore.
Thomas raised his hand, not in surrender but to steady the spiraling heat.
Amayra said, chest heaving.
Thomas’s eyes darkened like thunderclouds. He didn’t whisper; he declared.
The words landed like a physical blow. Amayra’s color drained. Her mouth opened; the world narrowed until only that sentence remained, ringing in her ears.
Thomas said, each syllable heavy.
Amayra’s eyes flared. For a breathless moment she was an island of confusion, until realization crept across her face like frost.
Joseph said quietly, addressing the disbelief in her eyes.
Thomas’s hand landed on his shoulder, a brief, authoritative steadiness — old loyalty meeting new storm. The contact was small, but it tethered Joseph, and Thomas’s eyes held more than reprimand: they held shared history and the burden of truth.
His intervention was sharp, final. He squared his shoulders, the leader once more in command of a situation teetering toward chaos.
He turned to Joseph; words sharpened with urgency.
Joseph’s reply was immediate, desperate.
The name hung in the air like a thrown blade.
Thomas shot back too quickly, almost pleading in the edge of his voice.
He pointed at the faint dark stain through Joseph’s shirt, then at the wound at his chest.
KRAK!
The wordless knock of their reality striking the floor. Joseph sucked air in as if he’d been punched. Time compressed; every thought around them snapped into focus: the wound, the warning, the impossible deadline.
Joseph’s hands curled into fists. For a moment, every muscle in his body trembled between rebellion and resignation.
Thomas’s face was granite, carved and unyielding, yet beneath the hardness, Joseph saw it — a flicker of fear. His mentor’s voice was steady, but it carried the weight of command.
Amayra stepped forward, confusion flickering across her face.
Her brow pinched, her voice softer now, tinged with worry.
Amayra’s shoulders slumped, her face dull for a heartbeat. Then, a spark lit her eyes again.
The office door creaked open. David slipped in with quiet steps, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth.
Thomas said, shaking his head.
David leaned casually against the doorframe, his voice breaking the tension like a thrown stone.
Joseph’s glare shot toward him like a knife. This wasn’t the moment for jokes, and David knew it. Still, he held his ground, shrugging.
Joseph’s gaze slid to Amayra. He didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to decide. But her face… that determined fire in her eyes, threaded with worry, mirrored another face in his memory. Sabrina.
He exhaled slowly, voice low, almost reluctant.
The room froze. David blinked, stunned. Even Thomas’s expression faltered with surprise.
Joseph turned toward Thomas then, his voice sharpening into steel.
His stare hardened, a predator’s promise.
With that, Joseph pivoted, the door slamming shut behind him.
BAMMMM!
For a moment, silence clung to the office. David looked from Thomas to the door, then back again, unease stirring in his chest.
he muttered, and hurried after Joseph.
As Adam moved out, his facial expression changed, that little funny expression changed to worry!
He looked left and right, not once but twice but Joseph was already gone.
(The world will witness)