Clarissa paced her luxury apartment like a lioness trapped in a glass cage. The lights were dim, the room quiet save for the soft hum of the AC. She poured herself another glass of wine, but even that didn't calm the restlessness chewing at her chest.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The calls had stopped coming.
Contracts with foreign partners were "delayed." Her assistant quit without warning. Her social media team hadn't posted anything in two days, and the press had suddenly gone silent—too silent.
She could feel it.
A storm was coming.
And then it hit.
On Friday morning, a video was leaked. Clear footage from the abandoned building. A short clip. Just enough to confirm the location. Just enough to show her voice.
"…you won't have this wedding. Or you won't be present at all."
Her words.
Crystal clear.
The media exploded. News stations. Gossip blogs. International tabloids.
"CLARISSA ADEYEMI IMPLICATED IN ABDUCTION OF BRIDE-TO-BE"
"KAIN ADEYEMI'S EX-WIFE BEHIND KIDNAPPING SCANDAL"
The public outrage was immediate. Brands pulled out of endorsements. Stores pulled her fashion line off shelves. Influencers deleted past collaborations.
Within hours, the Clarissa name went from elite to exile.
And then came the arrest.
Kain had waited just long enough.
With Naya's blessing, he handed all the evidence over to the police.
The footage. The investigator's report. The witness accounts. The connections. The threats.
It was bulletproof.
The police picked her up at her apartment.
She didn't go quietly.
"You can't do this to me! I MADE HIM!" she screamed as they cuffed her.
The world watched as she was driven away.
Naya watched the broadcast in silence. Her mother sat beside her, rubbing her hand. Kain stood behind the couch, arms crossed, his presence firm and calming.
She didn't cry.
She didn't smile.
She simply breathed.
"I don't hate her," Naya said at last.
Kain moved closer.
"I don't forgive her either," she added. "But I don't hate her. I'm just… done."
Kain bent down and kissed her forehead. "She doesn't get to take any more from you."
She nodded.
Later that day, Clarissa was formally charged with conspiracy, unlawful detention, and aggravated assault.
Her bail was denied.
The court deemed her a flight risk.
Her empire crumbled.
Clarissa sat in the holding cell, her designer blouse wrinkled and stained with sweat. Her once carefully curated nails were chipped from clawing at walls in frustration. She screamed for her lawyer. For her assistant. For anyone who would listen.
No one did.
Days passed in a blur. Clarissa tried to call in favors. She pulled strings. She made threats.
None of it worked.
Her parents refused to publicly defend her. Her brother, who had once idolized her, gave a brief statement distancing himself. Her closest business partners dissolved their contracts. Publicly.
Her once-bustling fashion line was dropped by multiple high-end retailers. The media couldn't stop covering the fall of one of the city's most notorious socialites.
The court set her trial date.
Kain and Naya were summoned as key witnesses.
The courtroom was packed. Journalists. Spectators. Influencers desperate to catch a glimpse of the once-untouchable Clarissa Adeyemi.
Clarissa walked in wearing a simple cream blouse and black slacks. No makeup. No heels. Just fury.
She didn't look at Naya.
Didn't glance at Kain.
She sat, jaw tight, hands cuffed.
Naya testified first.
She walked to the stand with her shoulders back, her voice steady.
"She tied me up. She spit on me. She threatened to kill me. And she told me… I would never make it to the altar."
Gasps echoed through the room.
The judge leaned forward. "And do you believe she intended to follow through with that threat?"
Naya met his eyes. "I believe she would've left me to die."
Kain testified next. He described the search. The footage. The moment he found Naya.
"I will never forget the way she looked," he said. "And I will never forgive the person who put her there."
Clarissa's lawyer tried to paint her as emotionally unstable. Grieving the collapse of her marriage. Temporarily insane.
The evidence crushed that defense.
Clarissa was sentenced to ten years without parole.
The courtroom erupted.
Outside, Naya and Kain were met with cheers, hugs from strangers, and media flashing cameras.
But they didn't linger.
They drove straight home.
Back to peace.
---
Clarissa's prison mugshot spread across every news outlet. A far cry from her usual filtered Instagram photos. Her eyes wild, hair unkempt, the rawness of defeat etched into every line of her face.
She was moved to a maximum-security facility after an attempted escape from holding.
In prison, her world shrank.
The woman who once had stylists, drivers, publicists, and personal chefs now wore grey cotton uniforms and stood in line for food like everyone else.
She got into fights. Was placed in solitary twice. Her privileges were revoked after she attacked another inmate during therapy.
She was infamous behind bars. But not respected. Not feared. Just pitied.
She became a cautionary tale.
---
Meanwhile, Naya was healing.
Slowly.
But surely.
She started therapy. Attended a survivors' group. Spoke to women who had faced things she once couldn't imagine.
She found strength in their stories.
And power in telling her own.
Zara helped her plan again. The new wedding would be different—smaller, more intimate, but just as meaningful.
No more chaos.
Just love.
One quiet night, Naya stepped out into the garden, barefoot, wearing one of Kain's oversized shirts. He followed, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders.
She looked up at him. "I want to set a new wedding date."
He smiled.
"One where the only thing we're thinking about is forever," she said.
"You pick the day," he replied.
"I already have."
She whispered the date.
His eyes softened. "That's a perfect day to start a forever."
And as they stood under the moonlight, wrapped in peace, the chapter of pain began to close.
And a new story began.