Three Years Later
The sound of waves crashing against the Namibian coast echoed faintly through the open windows of Pedro's private office. It had been three long, hard years since the chaos that nearly tore his life apart—three years since he took matters into his own hands and went after the man responsible for everything: Charles Mvula.
The attack had been silent, calculated, and lethal. It wasn't just revenge—it was war. Pedro's people tracked Charles' every move, cornered him during a late-night meeting in Walvis Bay, and left nothing behind but fear and ashes. No trace of the Smiths could be tied to the crime, but the message was clear: you don't mess with Pedro Smith.
In the aftermath, Pedro had finally completed his studies. Business now consumed most of his time—his family's empire expanding across Namibia and beyond. The casino, real estate, tech investments, and clean energy projects kept him busy, but it was Lisa who kept him grounded.
Their relationship had been tested, fractured by BK's manipulation and her own doubts. But eventually, Pedro sat her down, laid everything bare—his past, his family's businesses, the pain, the truth. And for the first time, Lisa didn't flinch. She stayed. She held his hand, looked him in the eye, and promised to walk the path with him, no matter how dark or complicated it was.
Meanwhile, in the UK…
BK sat alone in a dim library corner, staring at a picture of his father taped into a leather journal. His grief had turned to rage. His father was gone, and the Smith name was still thriving.
He clenched his jaw, closing the book.
"Soon," he whispered. "Soon, Pedro will pay."
Lisa POV
The final stretch of university had finally arrived. Lisa was now in her fourth year, juggling school and her relationship with Pedro, who had since moved to Swakopmund to run his family's expanding business. The past years had brought major changes—emotional battles, heartbreak, healing—but above all, growth.
Lisa had changed. She was more focused, stronger, and most importantly, wiser.
It was a quiet Thursday morning when she sat outside campus under the jacaranda trees, sipping on coffee and going through her notes. Her phone buzzed, and a smile crept across her face when she saw the caller ID.
Mom
"Hey, Mama."
"Hello my baby," her mom's soft voice came through. "How are you holding up? I haven't heard from you in days."
Lisa laughed lightly. "I'm okay. School is just hectic, and you know how final year can get. Assignments, group projects… the usual stress."
"Well, just don't forget to take care of yourself. You sound tired."
"I'll be fine, Mama. Actually, I'm planning a little weekend trip."
"Oh? Where to?"
"Swakopmund. I want to surprise Pedro. He's been working so hard lately and I just… I miss him."
Her mother chuckled. "You're a good woman, Lisa. He's lucky to have you."
Lisa smiled. "Thanks, Mama. I'll call you when I get there."
After the call, Lisa opened Instagram to check messages and post a quick story—and noticed another blocked message notification from BK.
"User BK_Mvula tried to message you."
She shook her head. He just wouldn't give up. But she had made her choice—and that was Pedro. The one who stood by her, even after everything.
---
Swakopmund – Friday Evening
Pedro had just finished a long meeting with a potential investor. He returned to his beachfront apartment, mentally exhausted, only to find a surprise waiting for him at the door.
Lisa.
Wearing a soft cream sweater, jeans, and the biggest smile he had seen in weeks.
"You… what—Lisa!"
"Surprise!"
Before he could say another word, she jumped into his arms. They both laughed, their hearts instantly syncing in that familiar rhythm only they shared.
"I missed you so much," she whispered into his neck.
Pedro held her tighter. "You have no idea how much I needed this. Come in."
---
Meanwhile – London
BK stared at his phone with tired eyes. Another assignment. Another day of pretending he had everything under control. But deep inside, the fire was still there. The anger. The thirst for vengeance.
He opened his messages—no reply. Again. His jaw tightened.
"She blocked me… again."
He tossed his phone onto the bed and stared out the window.
"You may have killed my father, Pedro Smith," he muttered. "But you haven't seen the last of me."