"What do you mean by that?" Vince asked, leaning forward.
Karina tapped her spoon against the cup, thinking.
"From what I heard back then... Darian's dad worked for Vanessa's dad. So they basically grew up together. Not by choice—just circumstance."
Vince blinked.
"Grew up together? They've known each other that long?"
"Yeah," she continued. "Darian was always protective of her. Obsessively so. When he and I were together, I thought he was cheating on me because of how much attention he gave her."
She looked away.
"Honestly... I still think he's obsessed with her, even after that incident."
Vince frowned.
"That incident? Are you okay talking about it?"
Karina's grip on her spoon tightened. She stared at the table, then slowly shook her head.
"...No. Not yet."
Vince nodded softly.
"I understand."
But another thought clicked into place.
"So Vanessa knew about that incident?"
Karina hesitated—then nodded.
"She was involved in it."
Vince's stomach tightened.
Karina glanced at him, her expression serious.
"And... you might not have realized it, but Vanessa was there the day you fought Darian back then."
Vince froze.
"She... was there?"
Karina nodded.
"She saw everything."
"Well, you were too busy fighting to notice anything," Karina said with a shrug. "Anyway, that's all I know."
Vince eyed her.
"You're not telling me everything, are you?"
Karina's jaw tightened. She looked away.
"Anything else means talking about that incident, Vince. And I told you—I don't want to talk about it."
Vince softened.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Karina."
She nodded, but her expression shifted—tight, uneasy.
After a moment, she asked quietly,
"So... you're really serious about her?"
Vince didn't hesitate.
"Yeah. I like her."
He saw it instantly—the way her eyes flickered, the way her shoulders tensed for half a second. His answer hurt her, even if she tried to hide it.
"Oh. Okay..." she murmured, forcing a small smile.
She pushed up from the table.
"Alright. I've got stuff to do, so let's head out."
Vince stood as well.
"Yeah. Let's go."
But as they walked out of the old ice cream shop together, the space between them felt different—heavier, quieter.
Karina walked beside him, but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
And Vince couldn't shake the feeling that whatever happened next...
things between all of them were about to get even messier.
Inside the Balar estate, in a study big enough to echo, Wesley Balar sat behind his oak desk, eyes locked on a tablet. The screen showed grainy footage of the fight at the park—Vince, bruised, angry, swinging wildly. Students shouting. The police sirens in the distance.
Wesley tapped the screen once and froze the image on Vanessa's face as she stepped between the boys.
"Sir... how should we handle this?" his secretary, Johnna, asked cautiously from the doorway.
Wesley leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
"This girl." He pointed at Vanessa on the screen. "She's the one he's been hanging around with, isn't she?"
"Yes. It seems the young master has taken a liking to her," Johnna confirmed.
Wesley clasped his hands behind his back, still staring at the image.
"Her father. He's the one who works as a loan shark, correct?"
"Yes. He runs a major underground lending network in the eastern part of Manx," Johnna said.
Wesley exhaled through his nose, displeased.
"Associating with someone like that..."
He shook his head. "It will ruin the company's image. Of all my grandchildren, Vince is the only one I consider worthy of inheriting this empire."
His voice softened, but not with affection—more with calculation.
"He may look lazy, but the boy thinks ten steps ahead of his peers. That's why he doesn't bother with half the nonsense they do."
He turned to Johnna.
"Start the process to send him abroad. He will attend college overseas. That should pull him away from that loan shark's daughter."
Johnna bowed slightly.
"Yes, sir."
He stepped out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
Left alone, Wesley stared out the tall window overlooking the immaculate estate grounds.
"If only my damn son wasn't greedy," he muttered.
"All of them circling my fortune like hawks..."
His reflection in the glass frowned back at him—calculating, cold, utterly certain.
And far from Vince's world, a decision had already been made.
Sitting alone in her room, Vanessa opened the bottom drawer of her dresser—the one she almost never touched. Inside, beneath a folded sweater, was a small picture frame. She pulled it out gently, like it was something fragile enough to crumble.
The photo showed her and Hanna during junior high, arms linked, sunflower fields stretching behind them. Hanna's smile was bright—too bright for someone who wouldn't make it into high school.
Vanessa brushed her thumb over Hanna's face.
"Hey, Hanna..." she whispered, her voice trembling the way it always did when she brought the picture out.
"How have you been? It's been a while, hasn't it? Since we last talked."
She didn't look away from the photo, her eyes softening with a mixture of warmth and pain.
"I hope you're okay up there."
Her grip tightened around the frame.
"Remember those sunflower fields? The ones you always dragged me to? I still think about them. I still think about you."
Her breath hitched—quiet, hidden, but real.
"I miss you, Hanna..." she murmured, holding the picture closer to her chest as if that could bridge the impossible distance between them.
She stayed like that for a long moment, the room silent except for her uneven breathing.
Because for Vanessa, Hanna wasn't just a memory.
She was the ghost of a life that had been stolen—one she still blamed herself for losing.
And no matter how much time passed...
that wound hadn't healed.
Not even close.