Night descended as a blanket of thin mist began to shroud the city streets. Inside her quiet primary study, Aileen stood before the expansive window, gazing out at the glittering city lights from the height of the twentieth floor. Resting neatly on her desk was a striking red folder bearing the bold title: ‘Hartono Group Absolute Share Transfer Documents’—a decoy folder that was entirely fake yet meticulously designed to look thoroughly authentic.

The grand plan had entered its final stage. Through a covert intelligence network managed by Damian's operatives, Aileen had deliberately leaked juicy false intelligence straight to Rehan's trusted confidants. The tip claimed that tonight, Aileen would carry all original inheritance documents and primary stock ownership power-of-attorney out of town alone to hand them over to a foreign investor in the northern industrial district.

And the route she would take was an absolute certainty: the northern mountain pass—deserted, dark, and steep—the exact same path where Rehan had executed her three years prior.

Creak...

The study door drifted open slowly. Aileen didn't need to turn around to know who had arrived. She knew those hurried footsteps and ragged breaths all too well.

Rehan stood in the doorway. His appearance was deeply disheveled; his hair was messy, his shirt hung untucked from his trousers, and his eyes blazed wildly with sheer desperation. The crushing pressure from loan sharks, Clara's threats to expose his secrets, and looming bankruptcy had stripped the man of every last shred of sanity.

Rehan spotted the red folder resting on the desk, then shifted his gaze to Aileen, a crazed smirk contorting his features.

"So... tonight you're heading out of town alone with those documents, Aileen?" Rehan's voice sounded raspy, trembling with immense, tightly wound tension.

Aileen turned around slowly. She looked at her husband with an expression of profound calm, utterly devoid of fear. "Where I'm going and what I'm carrying is no longer your concern, Rehan. That company and those assets are already completely beyond your reach."

Hearing those words, the veins in Rehan's neck bulged taut. The desperation constricting his soul stripped away his remaining restraint. He no longer cared about the charade of marriage. Inside Rehan's head, there existed only a single, consuming thought: seize those documents, liquidate every asset, and flee abroad with billions of rupiah.

Rehan stalked closer with a menacing gesture, both fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Don't you dare act so arrogant, Aileen! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have fallen this hard! Hand over that document folder right now nicely, or I swear tonight is the end of your life!"

Aileen let out a cold snort, folding her arms across her chest. She looked at Rehan no longer with anger, but with overwhelming disgust—a gaze implying that the man before her was nothing more than a foolish beast walking straight into a hunter's cage.

"Want to snatch it using your old trick, Rehan?" Aileen challenged in a piercingly cold voice. "Sending a hired truck, tampering with my car brakes, and then pushing me into a dark ravine? Is that truly the only cowardly scheme hiding inside your shallow brain?"

Thump!

Rehan's heart felt as though it had dropped out of his chest. Every drop of blood in his body instantly froze. His eyes widened in horrified terror as he stared at Aileen.

"Y-you... what are you talking about?! Stop talking nonsense!" Rehan stammered, cold sweat pouring down his temples. How on earth could Aileen know the exact evil plot he had orchestrated behind the scenes back then?

"Don't play dumb, Rehan," Aileen said softly, though every word slipped out like a poisoned dagger. "All your wickedness, your affair with Clara, right down to that premeditated murder plot... I know every single detail. And tonight, you won't be able to run anywhere anymore."

Hearing that, Rehan's mask of terror collapsed entirely, replaced by an erupting, murderous rage. He had lost everything. He had nothing left to protect.

"Damn you, Aileen! If I can't have that fortune, then you're going to die tonight along with my secrets!" Rehan roared like a madman. He roughly snatched the red folder off the desk, spun on his heel, and bolted out of the room, rushing down the stairs.

Rehan scrambled into his SUV, dialing his hired mercenaries to repeat the deadly plan from three years prior: intercept and eliminate Aileen along the northern mountain pass this very night.

Far away from that place, inside a tactical command center filled with advanced monitor screens and digital maps, the atmosphere felt charged with high tension and absolute control.

Damian stood tall with his arms crossed over his chest, clad in a black suit without a tie. Before him, a large GPS tracking tablet displayed a red dot moving slowly across the city's digital map—a red dot secured neatly beneath the chassis of the sedan Aileen was driving.

Beside Damian, several professional bodyguards stood at attention with handheld communication earpieces plugged into their ears.

The head of the investigative team stepped closer, bowing respectfully as he reported the situation to Damian. "Master Damian, reports from the northern sector monitoring post have been received. The primary target, Rehan Baskoro, has just left his residence in a private vehicle heading toward the northern mountain pass, trailing directly behind Madam Aileen's route. His hired mercenaries are already positioned at the deadly curve checkpoint."

Damian didn't shift his gaze from the tablet screen for a single second. His eyes narrowed sharply, radiating a cold, lethal aura capable of freezing anyone who beheld it. He touched the communication button on the screen, ensuring the audio signal linked directly to the encrypted earpiece Aileen wore inside her car.

"Aileen," Damian's voice drifted calmly yet firmly through the communication device, "the target's position is locked. You are on the correct path. Stay calm, and let him walk straight into the trap."

From the other end, Aileen's voice replied with a steady, utterly confident cadence, "I understand, Damian. I'll be waiting for him at the edge of the cliff."

Damian drew a deep breath, then gazed intensely at Rehan's red dot closing in on Aileen's position across the monitor screen. The corners of his lips curved upward into a triumphant, crooked smile.

He lifted his right hand, giving a signal to the entire tactical team inside the room, and commanded with a resounding, authoritative bariton:

"The wolf in sheep's clothing has stepped right into the trap. Prepare for a total ambush. Don't let a single one of those bastards escape hell empty-handed."