By the time the fire was finally contained, the sky above Victoria Island had turned pale grey.
Morning was coming.
The crowd outside the building had slowly disappeared. Only the police, firefighters, and a few exhausted workers remained.
The once bright fashion studio now looked like a black skeleton.
Broken glass.
Burned fabric.
Charred walls.
Shemmy stood behind the caution tape staring at what was left of her dream.
Her chest felt hollow.
Ruth stood beside her quietly.
Neither of them had spoken for several minutes.
Finally Ruth sighed.
"You built this place from nothing."
Shemmy nodded slowly.
"Five years."
Ruth placed a hand on her shoulder.
"And you'll build again."
Shemmy didn't answer.
Across the street Daevyd was speaking with one of the police officers.
His voice was calm, but the tension in his posture was obvious.
The officer shook his head.
"We're treating it as a suspected arson case."
"Suspected?" Daevyd asked.
"There's evidence of an explosive device."
Daevyd's eyes darkened.
"So someone planted it."
"That's what it looks like."
The officer scribbled something on a clipboard.
"We'll review the security footage from nearby buildings."
Daevyd nodded.
"Keep me updated."
When the officer walked away, Daevyd returned to Shemmy.
"You should go home."
"No."
"You've been here all night."
"I'm not leaving."
Daevyd looked at the building again.
The firefighters were now moving inside carefully, checking for structural damage.
"This place isn't safe."
"I know."
"But I need to see it."
Daevyd studied her face.
He knew that look.
The same stubborn look she had when she refused to give up her brand.
"Five minutes," he said.
Shemmy nodded.
Inside the studio the smell of smoke was overwhelming.
Water dripped from the ceiling.
The once bright workspace looked completely destroyed.
Mannequins had melted.
Fabric racks had collapsed.
The sewing machines were covered in ash.
Shemmy walked slowly through the room.
Her footsteps echoed softly against the burned floor.
Ruth followed behind her carefully.
"Careful," Ruth said.
Shemmy stopped in front of what used to be her design table.
The place where she spent most nights sketching ideas.
Now it was barely recognizable.
She crouched down slowly.
Then something caught her eye.
A small metal box under the table.
Half burned.
Her sketch archive.
Her heart jumped.
She opened it carefully.
Inside were several notebooks.
The edges were blackened, but most of the pages were still intact.
Ruth gasped.
"You saved them."
Shemmy flipped through the pages.
Design sketches.
Fabric notes.
New concepts she hadn't even shown anyone yet.
Tears filled her eyes.
"Not everything burned."
Daevyd stepped closer.
"That's good."
"It's more than good."
Shemmy stood up holding the notebook.
"This is the next collection."
Ruth blinked.
"You're already thinking about the next collection?"
Shemmy wiped her face quickly.
"If they burned my studio to stop me…"
She closed the notebook firmly.
"…then I'll rebuild faster."
Daevyd smiled slightly.
"That's the spirit."
But before the moment could settle, one of the firefighters called out.
"Sir!"
Daevyd turned.
"What is it?"
The firefighter pointed toward the back hallway.
"You should see this."
They followed him.
At the end of the hallway a section of the wall had collapsed from the heat.
Behind it something metallic had been exposed.
A small surveillance device.
Hidden inside the wall.
Ruth's eyes widened.
"What is that?"
Daevyd leaned closer.
"A camera."
Shemmy frowned.
"A camera inside my studio?"
The firefighter nodded.
"It was wired into the wall."
Daevyd's expression darkened.
"That means someone has been watching this place for a long time."
Shemmy felt a chill run down her spine.
"They knew everything."
Ruth crossed her arms.
"They knew your designs."
"They knew your schedule."
"They knew when to attack."
Shemmy stared at the device.
"This wasn't random."
Daevyd pulled out his phone and took a photo of the camera.
"No."
"This was planned."
Shemmy's voice turned quiet.
"But who planted it?"
Daevyd thought for a moment.
Then one name came to mind immediately.
"Tunde."
But Ruth shook her head.
"No."
Both of them looked at her.
"If it was Tunde, he would have bragged about it already."
Shemmy slowly realized something worse.
"You're right."
That meant someone else had been watching her studio.
Someone more careful.
More patient.
More dangerous.
Daevyd removed the camera carefully from the wall.
The device was small.
Professional.
Not something cheap.
"This is corporate surveillance equipment," he said.
"Which means what?" Ruth asked.
Daevyd looked at Shemmy.
"It means Astra is already inside the game."
Shemmy felt her stomach tighten.
"So they've been watching me the whole time."
"Yes."
"And now they've made their first move."
Shemmy stared at the burned room one more time.
Her voice became steady again.
"Then it's our turn."
Daevyd raised an eyebrow.
"Our turn?"
"Yes."
Ruth smiled slightly.
"Oh I like that tone."
Shemmy looked directly at Daevyd.
"If they want a fight…"
She closed the notebook in her hands.
"…then let's give them one."
Daevyd nodded slowly.
Because now the situation had changed.
This wasn't just about revenge.
It was about survival.
And somewhere in Lagos…
Inside a tall glass building overlooking the ocean…
A group of investors watched the news coverage of the fire.
One of them leaned back in his chair.
"The girl survived."
Another man nodded.
"She's rebuilding."
The first man smiled faintly.
"Good."
He closed the report on his tablet.
"Let her rebuild."
The others looked confused.
"Why?"
The man's smile widened slightly.
"Because it will make the fall more expensive."
And for the first time…
The real game had truly begun.