The humid Bahamas air clung to them like molasses. Unceremoniously evicted from their presidential suite, Liam and Chloe stood like abandoned strays on Nassau's bustling streets. Their paradise illusion had shattered with the last banker's cold smile, leaving only harsh reality in its place.

"This is ALL YOUR FAULT!" Chloe's nails dug into Liam's arm, her voice twisted with rage and terror. "If not for your stupid plan and your 'foolproof' guarantees, we wouldn't be standing here like this!"


"Shut up!" Liam shoved her away, eyes bloodshot. "If you hadn't acted like a bitch in heat, posting those stupid photos and taunting Ava, we wouldn't have been caught! YOU ruined everything with your greed and stupidity!"

Their fight escalated to shoving and screaming, drawing curious, disgusted stares from passersby. Yesterday they were glamorous millionaires; today they were just two lunatics brawling on foreign streets. Eventually, hunger and desperation forced a truce. They slunk into a grimy pawnshop to trade their last valuables—Liam's Patek Philippe and Chloe's Hermès bag—for a handful of crumpled bills. This sum, which wouldn't have covered a single dinner in their previous life, was now their entire fortune.

The money barely covered two basic economy tickets to New York—the kind with seats too small to stretch your legs and air thick with mysterious odors.


As the plane climbed through the clouds, they sat pressed together in cramped seats, their shared predicament forming a fragile, temporary alliance.

"What are we going to do when we get back?" Chloe's voice trembled, her carefully maintained influencer facade completely gone, makeup streaked down her face.


"Don't worry," Liam squeezed her hand despite his own palm being slick with sweat. He forced confidence into his expression. "You still have connections, right? And that apartment in Queens? We'll lay low for a while. Once we weather this storm, we'll bounce back stronger. Ava thinks she's beaten me? She's so naive."

Chloe nodded desperately, clutching at this lifeline. She mentally cataloged which wealthy contacts might still take her calls, what resources remained. They whispered desperate plans over the engine drone, as if New York itself would magically solve everything. They remained blissfully unaware that a net woven of legal documents, financial freezes, and pure hatred already hung above Kennedy Airport, waiting for them.

The plane touched down at JFK with a dull roar that matched their pounding hearts. They shuffled out with the crowd, dragging their exhausted bodies and single cheap suitcase into the bustling arrivals hall.

Around them swirled noise and movement—joyful reunions, embraces, laughter. Liam instinctively pulled his hat lower, trying to disappear into the crowd. Then his gaze caught on a familiar figure, and his blood froze.

I stood directly in the center of the exit, watching them with glacial calm.

I wore a perfectly tailored black suit, hair pulled back severely, face expressionless. I stood like an executioner awaiting my subjects. When our eyes met, time seemed to stop. All color drained from Liam's face as he froze in place, pupils dilating with shock. Beside him, Chloe followed his gaze, gasped, and instinctively ducked behind him.

I moved forward deliberately, my heels striking the floor with sharp clicks that somehow cut through the airport chaos. Each step seemed to land directly on their hearts. I stopped before them, close enough to see the fear in their eyes.

"Welcome home, Liam," I said calmly, my voice devoid of warmth. "Or should I call you Michael? Or David? Your fake passport was quite convincing. Unfortunately, its creator is now in FBI custody."

Liam's lips trembled wordlessly. His meticulously crafted plan, his supposedly flawless scheme—all demolished by my casual remarks.

"You… how did you…" He finally forced out, his voice like gravel.

"How did I know?" I sneered, my gaze sweeping over trembling Chloe. "From the moment you landed in Nassau, your every move, word, and dollar spent has been monitored. That pathetic 'accident,' that cheap funeral, and you, my dear 'bestie'"—my eyes locked on Chloe—"those disgusting videos of you two together. I know everything."

I studied Liam's face—a mask of shock, fear and disbelief—and continued: "Every penny you stole, I've recovered. I've provided authorities with everything: your forged death certificate, your money laundering through shell companies, the insurance fraud, the property theft—a complete evidence chain of your conspiracy."

"You crazy bitch!" Liam finally erupted, trying to mask his terror with rage. "You want to destroy me? You think I'll just let you? Ava, I'm warning you—"

"Game over, Liam." I cut him off calmly, my eyes filled with pity—the kind one might show a trapped animal still foolishly struggling.

As I finished speaking, several plainclothes officers who'd been posing as travelers stepped forward. One flashed his badge and warrant as cold handcuffs clicked around Liam's wrists.

"Liam Blackwood," the lead officer recited mechanically, "you're under arrest for attempted murder, transnational financial fraud, identity theft, and multiple other felonies. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."

"No! This is insane! Let me GO!" Liam thrashed wildly, but the officers held him immobile.

At that moment, Chloe—who'd been cowering behind him—let out a piercing scream. She rushed forward, pointing at handcuffed Liam, shrieking hysterically: "It wasn't me! HE did everything! He FORCED me! I'm a VICTIM too! He manipulated me! I have EVIDENCE of all his crimes! I'll testify! Please, I'll do anything!"

Liam turned in disbelief to the woman who moments ago had been his partner, now frantically selling him out. His expression shifted from shock to hatred to complete devastation. He looked from Chloe's desperate face to mine. I met his gaze coldly, my eyes showing nothing of the love they once held—only the clinical assessment one gives a stranger.

Complete despair crushed him. He stopped struggling and let himself be dragged away like deadweight.

I didn't spare him another glance, nor did I acknowledge Chloe's continued desperate pleas. I simply turned and walked toward the exit.

Bright sunlight streamed through the massive glass wall, warming my face and banishing the last shadows. Behind me, Liam's broken roars and Chloe's desperate shrieks faded into background noise that no longer touched me.

I straightened my spine and didn't look back.