Christine sat silently in the dim room, the video playing again on loop. Her tears fell heavier with each replay, her heart unraveling slowly. In the corner, Maria leaned against the wall with a quiet, almost sinister grin on her lips.
Meanwhile, across town, Daniels stared wide-eyed at his screen—lines of data blinking with secrets from The Davids Empire.
"I have to go deeper into this," Daniels muttered, clenching his jaw.
Then louder, more to himself than anyone else, he added:
"The lover boy's neck-deep in romance—he has no clue what's hitting him... but I've got business to handle now."
With determination, he grabbed his coat and headed out.
In Bonita's room, unease gnawed at her. Daniels had been acting strangely lately, distant and preoccupied. She called him. Call declined.
Her heart sank.
Just then, Maria barged into her room.
"Where did you go this afternoon?" she asked, sharp as a blade.
"To see Kefas. Any problem?" Bonita replied, arms crossed.
"With whose permission? Bonita, if Mandume finds out—"
"Mom," Bonita cut in, firm and fiery. "I've sealed this case. Don't bring it up again. I went to see my father, not some stranger."
Maria paused. The look on her face? A cocktail of guilt and frustration. But she said nothing more.
Mandume and Olivia pulled up to an unfamiliar location. Olivia helped him out of the car gently. They walked into a softly lit room, glowing with candles, rose petals scattered across the floor. A projector hummed to life, displaying old photos of their childhood.
Olivia removed the blindfold. Mandume blinked—first confused, then visibly tense.
"I know you're angry… Seeing this… digging up our past," Olivia began. "But I'll explain everything."
"This? What is this?" Mandume asked coldly, scanning the room.
"You were always my first best friend. We used to fly kites together, remember? You stood by me, always."
Olivia's voice cracked. But Mandume wasn't moved.
"Olivia, I have a date. I don't appreciate this emotional ambush. I live in the present now. My future is with Star."
Meanwhile, Star stood alone in the room she had prepared for their date. It was beautiful—warm, enchanting—but empty. Her heart tightened.
"I can't wait to see you one last time in our little world, Mendu," she thought, her eyes misty.
"I'm blessed to have a friend who understands me. I love you—but maybe we were never meant to be. Steffy… Steffy is where my heart lies now."
She called Mandume. His phone buzzed—forgotten in his car.
Back in Olivia's setup, she finally spoke, tears threatening to fall.
"You wanted to know why I left you hanging. Why I never said anything when you poured your heart out. Mandume, I've loved you from day one. I just didn't believe you felt the same. And when you finally did… my family had to move away from Windhoek. I didn't want to give you false hope. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to see you hurt."
"You think that spared me pain?" Mandume's voice cracked with emotion. "You made it worse. You know I never had a bond with my mother. You were all I had. You and Dad. And both of you left me. You disappeared without a word, just like him."
He paused.
"My father at least wished me a happy birthday before he vanished… That was my last birthday with him."
Olivia lowered her gaze, her tears now free.
"I'm sorry, Mandume. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't bring you here to sabotage your relationship. I just wanted closure. I've moved on… and I see now, so have you. Star is amazing. I'm happy for you."
Mandume gave a soft nod.
"Thank you, Olivia. This… this says more than words ever could."
She moved closer and hugged him. It lingered just long enough for someone outside to capture it on camera.
Mandume pulled back, staring at the photos projected on the wall—snapshots of laughter, of youth, of days long gone.
"Can I steal five minutes of your date?" Olivia whispered. "Just to toast to new beginnings?"
She handed him a glass. He took it, reluctantly.
Back in her room, Star kept calling. No answer.
She looked around at the candles flickering in vain, the silence loud and empty.