Episode 5

The workspace was too large for a man who rarely left the house. Yet every detail—the tall bookshelves, the black marble desk, the thick glass walls, and the warm yellow light—radiated one thing: power.

A power that remained with Arman Pramudya even though his body was confined to a wheelchair.

Arman entered slowly, the wheels of his chair creaking softly. Once at the desk, he held his breath briefly, then adjusted his sitting position, a simple movement that demanded the remnants of his habit as a dignified man. Rudi closed the door and stood upright.

"Everything is in order, Mr. Arman," he said politely.

Arman didn't answer. His gaze was focused on the large computer screen in front of the desk. The Mission Bar Corporation logo was clearly displayed.

Rudi averted his eyes, waiting for instructions. Arman pressed a button. Company data opened, meeting reports, stock charts—all displayed. But Arman didn't touch them yet.

He only stared, as if trying to remember himself before the accident had stolen his entire life. A year ago, everyone had been vying to get close to this handsome, genius, and cold young CEO. But now, only a few knew who Arman really was. The rest only saw him as a paralyzed widower who had isolated himself.

Arman exhaled.

"Rudi."

"Yes, Sir?"

Arman turned his head, his gaze dark—not angry, but dangerous, cold, and intimidating. Like a king declaring war.

"Investigate two people."

Arman's voice dropped a quarter octave.

"Mimi... Kinara's stepsister."

Instantly, a change occurred on Rudi's face.

"And one more... Rayyan. Her former lover."

Rudi nodded quickly. "Very well, Sir. What information do you require?"

"Everything." Arman tapped his finger on the marble desk, the rhythm slow and steady.

"Their backgrounds."

"Residences."

"Employment records."

"Their relationship with Kinara before this."

Rudi swallowed, his voice hesitant as he asked, "If I may ask... what is the purpose, Sir?"

Arman looked up slightly. The light caught his face, making his jawline appear sharper, colder.

"I don't want that woman," He paused for a moment, his jaw tightening,

"to have a negative impact on Aksa."

The tone was so firm, so harsh, as if to emphasize that all this was only for the sake of his son. Rudi nodded, though his eyes noticed something different.

There was something else behind that voice. An invisible tone—subtle, faint, and only Arman himself felt it.

A feeling that had arisen since that woman had yelled at him, challenged him, protected Aksa, and said boldly that she would still be a stepmother, not just a nanny.

A feeling that he, a disabled man, didn't deserve to have—at least, that's what he thought, yet his face remained flat.

Rudi opened his tablet to take notes.

"Any other orders, Sir?"

Arman stared at the computer screen, but his eyes were empty, his mind clearly not there.

"No," he answered firmly. "Issue a report as soon as you're done."

"Very well." Rudi bowed politely and was about to leave.

But before the door closed, Arman added in a low voice, almost like a murmur,

"Don't let anyone... especially those two... get close to Kinara." Rudi nodded and closed the room door afterward.

That night, the large house was silent except for the sound of Aksa's little laughter breaking the stillness. Rudi had just returned from the company, and as he stepped inside, the scene in the family room made him stop in the doorway.

Kinara sat cross-legged on the carpet, her hair tied up haphazardly, her face softly lit by the dim yellow light. Aksa was on her lap, scribbling in a large sketchbook. But what made Rudi's steps halt was the drawing he saw.

A curved line, trees, and in the middle a small building with a dark silhouette and one window lit up. The picture seemed simple for a child, but the symbol was very familiar to Rudi—only a few people had ever known it.

'Why is Madam Kinara teaching Aksa that picture? Where did she learn it from?' Rudi closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his first day in this house. There were many things he had glimpsed—things he had kept to himself because he didn't want to ignite embers that were still sleeping.

Kinara looked up, realizing his presence.

"Rudi," she said with a small smile, "Are you looking for something? Do you want to see Mr. Arman?"

Rudi nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Yes, Madam."

Kinara sighed deeply, shook her head, then rolled her eyes—her signature movement since the first day.

"He's still in his study. From morning till night, he doesn't move anywhere. I don't know what's so interesting about sitting alone for so long." The cynical tone wasn't hidden.

"No wonder his life is so bleak. He doesn't even know how to enjoy the outside air."

Rudi smiled faintly at the comment—not mocking, more like someone who knew too much but chose to hold back.

"To be honest, Madam..." Rudi looked at Kinara gently but meaningfully.

"You... don't really know Mr. Arman."

Kinara shrugged, clearly not caring. "I don't need to know him."

Rudi only smiled thinly, a smile that contained many secrets that he wasn't ready to reveal, especially to the woman who was now the center of his boss's attention.

"If that's the case, I'll take my leave," he said.

He walked away, leaving Kinara who went back to blowing Aksa's hair while teasing the child to color properly. But before Rudi completely entered the hallway to Arman's study, he glanced back once more. Aksa was drawing that dark building with a pattern that was too precise for a child of that age.

Rudi arrived in front of Arman's study, with a heavy breath, Rudi knocked on the door to Arman's study.

Behind that door, he knew there was someone who was trying to kill his own past while Kinara's past was slowly emerging before his eyes. And both, somehow, were walking towards a point of collision that could not be avoided.

Rudi closed the study door slowly, making sure no sound leaked out. Arman didn't turn around. He sat upright in his wheelchair, back straight, fingers tapping the side of the mahogany desk with a steady rhythm—a sign he was holding back his emotions.

"How is it?" he asked flatly, without looking up.

Rudi swallowed. "I have found what you asked for, Sir."

A moment of silence, then Arman shifted his chair slightly, gesturing for Rudi to speak.

Rudi opened a thick brown folder. "Her stepsister's name is... Mimi Maheswari. She lives with her mother, and Kinara's biological father used to. After Madam Kinara's father died in an accident a year ago... Madam Kinara was kicked out of the house, without a single penny of inheritance."

Arman finally raised his head. The look in his eyes was still cold, but there was a hint of sharp glint—a glint that only appeared when something made him dislike it.

"What kind of accident?" Arman asked.

"It's not clear, Sir. The report... seems odd. As if it was deliberately covered up."

Rudi held his breath. "And Mimi and her mother kicked Madam Kinara out right after the funeral."

Arman's fingers stopped tapping the desk.

Rudi continued, "Rayyan... the man who appeared in front of the civil registry office earlier... he was Madam Kinara's former fiance. But after Madam Kinara was evicted, Mimi took over. The two of them now live together with Mimi's mother."

Arman narrowed his gaze. "So they betrayed her."

Rudi nodded slowly. "Yes, Sir. And one more thing... quite surprising."

He handed over another file.

"Madam Kinara graduated as the best graduate in Pharmacy. Her grades... are perfect. And she should have been the leader of the Thropy company before her family problems made it all stop."

Arman was silent again. His face remained expressionless, but Rudi knew his mind was moving fast.

"Thropy company..." Arman murmured softly while opening the file.

Rudi nodded. "There was just a plan to sign a cooperation agreement with Mission Bar. And... that company will later be led by Rayyan after marrying Mimi."

This time, Arman's reaction was clear. He frowned deeply—for Arman, that was equivalent to someone else punching the table.

"Interesting," he said coldly. Then his eyes stared straight at the file as if he wanted to burn it.

Then, without the slightest hesitation, "cancel the cooperation."

Rudi froze. "S-Sir?"

Arman raised his face, his gaze as sharp as a scalpel.

"I will not cooperate with a company led by a man like him."

His tone dropped an octave—dark, cold, dangerous.

"He doesn't deserve to be in the same orbit as Mission Bar."

Rudi almost wanted to ask if that decision was purely to prevent bad influences on Aksa or for another reason that Arman himself couldn't admit yet. Arman added in a low voice that contained something—anger, protection, and jealousy.

"No one ever tramples on Arman Pramudya's wife without receiving retribution."

Rudi bowed his head. "Very well, Sir. I understand."

As he was about to leave, Arman spoke again, softly but firmly,

"And Rudi... find out more about her father's accident."

His gaze sharpened.

"I have a hunch... this wasn't an ordinary accident."

Rudi bowed respectfully. "Ready, Sir." He left, leaving Arman in silence.

Outside the door, Rudi could hear Aksa laughing softly with Kinara—a sound that made the atmosphere of the large house feel a little alive.

But behind that closed door, Arman only stared at the file in front of him.

"Kinara..." Arman murmured softly.

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