Chapter 118

NADIA'S POV.

I smirked, setting the phone back down. Everything was moving like clockwork. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment to strike.

I sat back down on the bed, crossing my legs as I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction. Alisha would do her part, whether willingly or not.

And if she thought she could outsmart me, well, she’d soon find out just how wrong she was.

For now, I had to keep playing the part of the calm, collected puppet master. But inside, the fire of ambition burned hotter than ever. This wasn’t just a plan…it was a masterpiece, and I was the artist.

As I leaned back against the pillows, my mind wandered to the moment when everything would come together. The look of shock, of betrayal, of defeat…it would all be worth it.

With a final glance at my phone, I closed my eyes, letting a sinister smile linger on my lips. "Eighteen hours," I whispered to myself. "And then it all begins."

As I sat in the quiet of my room, my mind betrayed me, wandering to a moment I desperately wanted to forget.

I hadn’t meant to think about it, but it crept in like an uninvited guest…the image of Max, pale and trembling, leaning against the sink in Mr. Kenneth’s guest restroom.

I closed my eyes, the memory as vivid as if it had happened moments ago. The blood on his lips, the strained sound of his coughing, the panic in his eyes…it all came rushing back.

He had looked like a man on the brink of death, and for a moment, I had believed he was.

I remembered standing there, pretending to be calm while my heart raced. I had slipped him the antidote just in time, my hands trembling as I passed him the tiny bottle.

"Drink it," I had whispered urgently, my voice low enough that no one outside the door could hear.

Max had taken it without hesitation, desperation overriding any pride he might have had. I had watched him gulp it down, his face contorting with disgust at the bitter taste.

The seconds that followed had felt like an eternity. I had held my breath, waiting to see if it would work, if he would stop bleeding, if he would live.

And then, slowly, his breathing had steadied. The blood had stopped, his color returning bit by bit. He had looked at me then, a mix of gratitude and suspicion in his eyes.

It wasn’t the kind of look you gave someone you trusted…it was the look of a man who knew he owed his life to someone he didn’t entirely believe in.

I shook my head, trying to push the memory away. What was the point of dwelling on it? Max had survived. He had walked out of that restroom, faced Mr. Jacob with a smug smile, and acted as if nothing had happened.

And I was hiding at a close pillar to the restroom as I had played my part perfectly, staying in the shadows, ensuring no one suspected me.

But even now, the memory clung to me, a reminder of how close everything had come to falling apart. I hated thinking about it. It wasn’t just the danger…it was the weakness it revealed.

For all his bravado, Max had been vulnerable, fragile. And for all my planning, I had nearly lost control of the situation.

I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling as I took a deep breath. "Focus, Nadia," I muttered to myself. "The past is the past. What matters is what comes next."

I couldn’t afford to get lost in flashbacks. I had bigger things to think about, bigger plans to execute. The future was all that mattered now.

The pieces were moving, the game was in motion, and I had no time to waste on regrets or second-guessing.

Max was just one piece of the puzzle. He had his role to play, just like everyone else. And if he thought for one second that he could outmaneuver me, he was in for a rude awakening.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair as I forced myself to focus. The past might haunt me, but it wouldn’t define me. I had come too far, worked too hard, to let anything derail my plans now.

"Eighteen hours," I said softly, the words a mantra. "Eighteen hours, and everything changes."

I wouldn’t let myself get distracted again. The future was mine to shape, and I intended to do it with precision and control. The past could stay where it belonged…in the shadows, a reminder of what I had overcome and what I was capable of.

Max might have been a close call, but he was also a lesson. A lesson in timing, in preparation, in knowing when to act and when to wait.

And if the memory of him bleeding in that restroom ever tried to haunt me again, I’d remind myself of one thing, I had saved him. Not out of kindness, but because it suited my plans.

And in the end, that was all that mattered. The plan. The future. My victory.

With that thought, I stood up, my decision became stronger than ever. The past was done. The future was mine. And nothing…not Max, not Alisha, not anyone…would stand in my way.

As I sat in my room, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me, a sudden surge of determination coursed through my veins.

I stood suddenly, the chair scraping against the floor as if echoing my resolve. I paced back and forth, each step a manifestation of the storm brewing inside me.

"No one can stop me," I said aloud, my voice firm and unyielding. "No one will stop me."

The words hung in the air, a declaration not just to myself but to the universe. I wasn’t about to let anyone ruin my plans, least of all Tammie.

That name…her name…was like poison on my tongue. Tammie. The mere thought of her made my blood boil, my fists clenching involuntarily.

"There will be no wedding," I hissed, my voice low but filled with venom. "Not with her. Not with that thing."