Vespera gathered the remaining checkers. The game was winner-takes-all, but Tina refused to concede. Shamelessly, she declared, "Even though you won first, I also have five in a row. So I win too." She defiantly added a piece, claiming victory. Vespera stared, momentarily, as if at a fool. "Well, if that's the case, I guess I can keep going too." She added a piece, easily completing another row of five. Within a minute, Vespera nearly cleared the board, blocking Tina at every turn until she was unable to move. Tina's face flushed crimson, then paled, and she demanded a rematch. Game after game—second, third, fourth—Vespera either toyed with Tina, slowly crushing her spirit, or swiftly ended the match with precise, ruthless moves. Humiliated, Tina burst into tears.

"Enough!" Luke snatched the game box, his expression icy. Seeing Luke's intervention, Tina threw herself into his arms, sobbing as if Vespera had bullied her. Luke and Felicia comforted her. Felicia then scolded Vespera, "It's just a game of checkers. Why take it so seriously? You're so petty and competitive. It's clear you come from a poor family!" The surrounding voices blurred into meaningless noise. Luke's face, once radiant, now seemed a faded, distorted image, unrecognizable and dull. Whatever. Twenty more days. She would let him do as he pleased. Vespera tossed the remaining pieces onto the board, her expression bored and indifferent. She stood and walked away, a few drops of blood falling onto the board as she scattered the pieces. Only when she felt the cool air on her fingers outside did she realize she had been clenching her fists so tightly that her nails had dug into her palms, drawing blood.

"Vespera!" Luke called, his voice laced with panic. He tried to follow, but Tina clung to him, crying harder. Vespera left the Munoz residence. Her phone rang incessantly as Luke called repeatedly. She blocked his number. Then, she messaged Felicia: "Fifteen million dollars! If you short me even a cent, you'll pay dearly!" Felicia nearly suffered a heart attack.

Vespera drove on, the darkening sky mirroring her scattered thoughts. Suddenly, a flash of yellow—a motorcycle swerved recklessly in front of her car. Her heart leaped; she slammed on the brakes. A loud crash jolted her from behind. Her head snapped forward, hitting the steering wheel. A sharp pain radiated from her temple. The rain-soaked world outside was tinged with red. She wiped the blood from her eyes. She had been rear-ended, and the yellow motorcycle was gone.

Someone tapped her window. A man, appearing to be in his late 40s or early 50s, wearing glasses and carrying a black umbrella, was there. Raymond Chandler's demeanor was calm and apologetic. "Miss, I'm terribly sorry. I collided with you. We'll take full responsibility. My boss is in a hurry, so could we exchange contact information? You can send us a list of damages later."

"Let's wait for the police," Vespera replied flatly. Already in a foul mood, and startled twice, her frustration had reached its peak. She got out and saw her car dented from the collision with the Bentley behind her. Frowning, she photographed the damage and called the police. Raymond didn't try to stop her. He returned to his car. "The lady won't settle privately. What should we do?"

The rain intensified. Inside his car, a man lounged, his gaze fixed on Vespera, who was on the phone, intensely frustrated, her white shirt soaked. Raymond called again. "Mr. Reid?" Dominic Reid glanced at his watch. "Gerard is on his way. I'll leave. You handle this." "Understood."

Vespera returned to her car. Shortly, the police arrived, followed by a silver Maybach. A tall, elegant figure emerged, his pale skin and sharp eyes commanding. He seemed familiar. "Give this to her," Dominic said, handing Raymond a suit jacket. He entered the Maybach without another glance. Raymond approached Vespera. "Miss, your clothes are soaked. Please put this on." Vespera, embarrassed by her nearly transparent shirt, accepted the jacket. "Thank you." Raymond spoke with the officer while the Maybach departed. Vespera caught a glimpse of the man's profile. The jacket held his warmth and a soothing sandalwood scent.

The police concluded their report; both parties exchanged information. Raymond offered to take Vespera to the hospital, but she declined. Her mood had improved; she apologized for her overreaction. "I'll have the jacket cleaned and return it." Raymond, understanding Dominic's likely disinterest in its return, nodded. Vespera went to the hospital alone. Meanwhile, Luke, unable to reach her and with the rain still falling, was plagued by terrifying thoughts. Then, he received news of her accident.