Tangled Fate, just that Night

Chapter Four

Over the weekend, Desire reluctantly took the twins to Braylor Studios, just as Johnnie Walker had begged. It was early, and the streets were quiet as they rode together in a cab.

“Mum,” Shine said as he leaned against her arm, pouting, “I thought you said we weren’t doing these boring shoots again.”

Desire sighed, gently stroking his freshly trimmed hair. “I know, baby. I'm just helping a friend out of a tight spot this once. No more after this, okay?”

Shine crossed his arms. “I really don’t want to do this again, Mommy.”

“I promise,” she said, kissing his cheek.

They arrived at the studio, and as soon as they stepped inside, Johnnie Walker nearly exploded with delight.

“Oh my stars!” he gasped. “These boys are even cuter with their new haircuts!” He knelt to their level, snapping his fingers at his stylist crew. “Light, camera, smiles—let’s go!”

“Thank you, Johnnie,” Shine said politely, but flatly.

Snow was quiet as usual, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets, observing everyone with sharp but unreadable eyes. He always gave the impression of being shy—but anyone who knew him knew better.

The shoot began. The twins were dressed in bright, playful outfits. One moment they were posing like princes, and the next they were making silly faces and cracking up the entire studio. The camera loved them.

---

Meanwhile, Miles Braylor had returned to the company unexpectedly.

He arrived dressed in a fine black blazer over a crisp white shirt, accompanied by his arrogant teenage sister Summer and his overly made-up girlfriend—none other than Lila Nile.

The two women were chatting animatedly behind him as he walked through the corridors. Miles was on a routine visit to inspect the creative department, but the moment he stepped into the studio wing, his gaze landed—not on the twins—but on the graceful woman standing off to the side with a clipboard in hand.

Desire.

She was dressed simply in jeans and a fitted black top, but something about her presence stood out—composed, elegant, quietly commanding. She didn’t look his way. She hadn’t even noticed him. That alone irritated and intrigued him.

When Summer and Lila followed him in, their attention went straight to the twins.

“Oh. My. God. Look at those boys!” Summer squealed, nudging Miles. “Aren’t they the cutest?”

Lila narrowed her eyes, recognition flickering across her face. Her gaze followed the direction of the camera, and then—

Desire.

What is that witch doing here? Lila’s blood boiled.

Desire glanced up, and their eyes met. The tension between them lit up instantly. If glares could kill, Lila would’ve dropped dead right then and there. Desire, unshaken, turned her attention back to her sons.

Miles, distracted by the exchange, finally looked at the twins again.

And froze.

Fox-shaped eyes. Hazel irises. That face. That jawline.

His frown deepened. He’d seen that face before—Rylo’s face. The resemblance was undeniable.

He stepped back into the hallway and grabbed Johnnie by the elbow.

“Who’s their mother?” Miles asked, trying to sound casual.

Johnnie grinned, completely oblivious to the storm forming. “Oh, those little heartthrobs? They’re Desire’s twins. Aren’t they incredible? They nailed every shot.”

Miles blinked. “She’s... married?”

“Don’t think so,” Johnnie replied offhandedly. “Just raising those two on her own. Superwoman stuff.”

Miles released Johnnie’s arm and leaned back against the wall, watching Desire again through the glass.

Desire Lopez.

A mystery.

Unimpressed by wealth.

Unaffected by his presence.

And apparently the mother of two boys who looked like his estranged older brother.

He smirked to himself. This just got interesting.

---

Across town, Nate was seated at his desk, munching on leftover plantain chips, when his phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is Nate.”

A calm, low voice responded. “Are you Nate Lopez?”

Nate sat up, mouth full. “Yes! Yes, this is Nate Lopez.”

“I’m Rylo Bradley.”

Nate almost choked. “You’re—Rylo—Professor Rylo Bradley?”

“Yes. I’ve reviewed your application. I’d like you to come in. Today. Are you available?”

Nate scrambled for his bag. “Yes, absolutely, sir. I can be there in—just text me the address!”

Within minutes, the location popped up on his screen:

The Solis Tower Penthouse, 17th Floor, Crestview Boulevard.

Contact: Rylo B.

Phone: +234-XX-XXXX-XXXX

Nate couldn't believe it. Rylo Bradley wanted to meet him?

He fixed his shirt, sprayed on cologne like it was holy water, and flagged down the nearest cab. All the way there, he rehearsed what he would say—but mostly, he just grinned like a kid going to space camp.

When he arrived, he stood before the Solis Tower, his jaw slack.

It was majestic—tall, modern, glass and silver, a place that didn’t just scream wealth... it whispered it in ten languages.

He stepped into the marble-tiled lobby, heart thumping. A receptionist offered him a polite smile and pointed him toward the elevator. He got in and pressed the button for the 17th floor, smoothing down his shirt again.

As soon as Nate reached the 17th floor, his finger hovered over the ornate brass doorbell, but before he could press it, the door slid open silently.

What lay before him made him pause in awe.

The penthouse was stunning—a breathtaking fusion of minimalist luxury and futuristic technology. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed a panoramic view of the city skyline. The living room stretched wide with polished black marble floors, sleek cream couches, ambient lighting built into the ceiling, and a floor lamp that curved like a crescent moon. Artworks—mostly abstract and grayscale—lined the walls with subtle taste.

The air smelled faintly of leather and sandalwood. Everything was immaculately placed, speaking of someone who valued both order and silence.

Before Nate could fully take in the room, Rylo Bradley stepped out from behind a smoked-glass door.

“Come,” he said quietly.

Nate followed, his steps almost tiptoeing as if the walls could talk.

They entered Rylo’s workspace—a completely different world.

The room was darker, with muted blue LED strips casting shadows across the tech sanctuary. A long, obsidian-black desk took center stage, lined with four ultrawide curved monitors, all flashing trading charts—green and red candlesticks dancing in rapid motion. Currency pairs and crypto tickers ran across the screens like a language of their own.

Before them, three smaller systems were connected to an isolated server rack in the corner. A wall of digital clocks ticked in perfect rhythm.

Nate was stunned.

Cables were neatly arranged, wireless charging docks glowed beneath the desk, and a futuristic headset sat beside a slim mechanical keyboard. A portable cybersecurity scanner blinked from the side.

This was the domain of a man who thrived on chaos—yet kept every inch under precise control.

Rylo, sensing Nate’s frozen state, gestured calmly. “Please, sit.”

Nate shook himself from the trance. “S-Sure. Sorry, this setup is insane—I mean... in a good way!”

Rylo chuckled lightly, his hazel eyes glinting. The similarity to Snow’s playful smirk struck Nate sharply, and he looked away quickly.

Rylo sat across from him, folding his arms. “So... Nate Lopez. Let’s begin.”

---

Interview Session

Rylo: “You’ve built a facial recognition prototype. Walk me through the architecture.”

Nate: “Sure. I used a combination of OpenCV and TensorFlow, connected via Flask to a lightweight front end. The database stores encoded face vectors, and comparison is done in real-time using Euclidean distance thresholds.”

Rylo: (Nods approvingly) “Good. What’s the fastest way to sanitize data from an untrusted API before inputting it into your model?”

Nate: “Run validations server-side, parse inputs through a cleansing middleware, and use escape characters or pattern checks to eliminate injection threats.”

Rylo: “Last one—how would you explain block chain to a child?”

Nate: (Smiling) “Like a notebook that everyone writes in at the same time, and once a page is full, it can’t be changed. And if someone tries to cheat, everyone else’s notebook exposes them.”

Rylo leaned back, smiling fully now. “You’re sharp, Nate.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Rylo stood, leading Nate back toward the living room. As they walked, Nate glanced at his profile again—the fox eyes, the jawline, the smirk.

The image of the twins flashed before him—Snow’s quiet, mischievous nature, Shine’s features. He shook his head. It couldn’t be... could it?

Rylo glanced sideways. “You said you were one of my students at Matrix University?”

Nate smiled, though his mind was spinning. “Yes. You taught a core course, and then—poof—you left.”

Rylo sighed. “My life... needed fixing. I had to go silent and focus on rebuilding my work.”

Nate nodded. “I admire you a lot. Honestly, it would be an honor to learn from you.”

Rylo gave him a soft smile. That same familiar smile.

Then Nate, struck by curiosity, leaned forward. “Professor, can I ask—were you ever at the Salvlor Hotel about five years ago?”

Rylo blinked at the name.

Before tension could build, Nate quickly added with a laugh, “Oh, don’t mind me. My sister used to claim you stayed there daily. I was sure she imagined it.”

Rylo raised an eyebrow, then said with ease, “Hmm. I was there. Once. For a family feast the night before I left the country. Just one night. So maybe she did see me... but not often.”

Nate’s eyes widened slightly. He chuckled, covering his surprise. “Wow. So you’re the mysterious rib fixer, huh? Some say you came out of that hotel with bandages like a beaten ninja.”

Rylo laughed. “It wasn’t planned. But hey, life throws punches.”

They both chuckled, but Nate’s mind had already shifted. This resemblance... the hotel… the smile... it can’t all be a coincidence.

---

Back at Braylor Empire

The shoot had wrapped up. The twins had changed back into their clothes, and Desire was packing up their snacks and water bottles.

“Go wait for me in Uncle Johnnie’s office,” she told the boys softly. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Just as she turned, a familiar venom laced through the air.

“Well, well... if it isn’t my old friend,” Lila Nile sneered, blocking her path.

Desire’s eyes narrowed. “Friend? You must be delusional.”

Lila’s lips curled into a fake smile. “You shouldn’t be here, Desire. You have no right to be working in a place like this.”

Desire folded her arms calmly. “Why? Because you’re here?”

“Because you’re a disgrace,” Lila hissed. “Your life’s already a mess. Don’t drag everyone else into it. You should’ve stayed invisible.”

Desire’s smile was slow. Icy. Dangerous.

“You’ve always been insecure, Lila. Five years ago, you tried to ruin me, and you failed. If anyone’s dragging filth into this place—it’s you.”

Lila’s face darkened. “Don’t test me.”

“I already did,” Desire said, stepping closer. “And you broke like glass. Try again, I dare you.”

Behind the glass wall, Miles Braylor had been watching. He could see Lila’s furious expression, Desire’s calm strength. There was history here.

Interesting, he mused.

He stepped out just in time to see Lila storm toward him, fake tears in her eyes.

“Miles!” she cried, grabbing his arm. “That woman—she insulted me! I just wanted to compliment her kids and she called me names.”

Summer rushed over. “Who did?”

“That awful woman,” Lila sobbed.

Without warning, Summer slapped Desire across the cheek.

Even Miles looked shocked.

“Apologize to Miss Nile,” Miles commanded. “She said you insulted her.”

Desire stared at him, stunned. “What? She started it. I won’t apologize.”

Then she turned to Summer, fury now lit in her eyes. “I’ll spare you today, little girl. Because that b***h over there lied to you.”

Her voice dropped cold.

“But next time, I won’t save my hand.”

She turned and walked away, calm but fuming, her twins running into her arms at the hallway corner.

As they exited, Miles watched her go, a slow smirk creeping over his lips.

So much fire… even under pressure.

"More secrets to unfold about you, Desire... But make no mistake—whether you want it or not… I will possess you."