What will Amber do with Iman now? Shayla is trapping everyone, and Wayne has finally seen her true face. What will happen next?
What will Amber do with Iman now? Shayla is trapping everyone, and Wayne has finally seen her true face. What will happen next?
The afternoon sun cut through the city’s dusty air as Amber sat across from Iman in a quiet café, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her cup. The tension between them was thick — not romantic tension, but something far more dangerous: a deal.
Iman leaned back, eyes cold and calculating. “Amber,” he began, voice low, deliberate, “I’m going to be straight with you. Anthony’s never going to marry you.”
Amber blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
He leaned forward now, elbows on the table. “You heard me. He told me himself. You’re a good distraction, a nice picture for the public maybe. But in his mind?” Iman smirked. “You’re just… temporary.”
Amber’s throat tightened. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Iman’s tone was teasing, dangerous. “Anthony’s happy where he is — living free, flirting, making promises he doesn’t intend to keep. You think he’s buying rings and building futures? Nah. He’s out there telling people he might give you a baby one day… but that’s it.”
Amber’s lip quivered, anger mixing with confusion. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Iman said, lowering his voice like a serpent whispering temptation, “come with me instead.”
Amber frowned. “You?”
Iman nodded slowly. “I’ll give you everything Anthony does — money, cars, comfort — except I won’t waste your time. I’ll tell you exactly what I want. We make a deal. You stay loyal to me, I take care of you.”
He paused — then added sharply, “But unlike Anthony, I won’t make you beg. Unless I want you to.”
Amber’s heart skipped. There was something dark, magnetic about his tone. “Why would you even want me, Iman? What’s your game?”
Iman smiled faintly. “Let’s just say... someone thinks you could be useful.”
Meanwhile, across town — Shayla stood before her mirror, perfecting her lipstick like a woman sharpening a blade.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head: “Never love empty-handed, Shayla. Love the power, not the person.”
And Shayla lived by that.
She smirked at her reflection, phone in hand. A text from Wayne lit up her screen:
WAYNE: Be ready in 10. Tamara’s coming with us.
“Perfect,” Shayla whispered to herself. “Let’s see what the king’s really playing at.”
At the jewelry store — IceBox, the air shimmered with luxury and tension.
Wayne strutted in wearing his vintage 90s jacket, flashing that easy smile that made everyone stop and stare. Tamara walked beside him, elegant but unsure, her calmness a sharp contrast to Shayla’s restless energy trailing behind.
The jeweler greeted them like royalty. “Welcome back, Mr. Kountry Wayne. Here for more 90s-type magic today?”
Wayne laughed. “You already know, my guy. I want something classic, something that says — ‘you special without me.’”
Tamara chuckled softly. “You and your lines.”
Wayne turned to her, eyes lingering a little too long. “Nah, I mean it, T. You special without me... I just wanna add a little shine to what’s already golden.”
Behind them, Shayla’s fake smile twitched.
Shayla (under her breath): “Golden my foot.”
The jeweler pulled out a tray of diamond necklaces. “These are our best pieces — pure fire.”
Wayne nodded, pointing at one. “That one right there — that’s Tamara. Pure class. Not too loud, not too quiet.”
He turned — deliberately — toward Shayla. “And you, Shay, what you think? You got taste.”
Shayla crossed her arms, her tone sugar-coated but laced with venom. “Oh, she’s perfect, Wayne. You should buy her the whole store.”
Wayne grinned. “I just might. You see, when you value someone, you don’t hesitate.”
Shayla’s jaw tightened. That was aimed directly at her.
Later, in the parking lot, Shayla’s patience snapped. She slammed her purse onto the car seat and hissed, “He’s really doing this to me in public now? Shopping for another woman like I’m invisible?”
Her phone buzzed — a message from Iman.
IMAN: The deal’s working. Amber’s hooked. She’s confused, just like we planned.
Keep Wayne distracted. Shayla, remember what we talked about.
Shayla smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, Iman. I’ll do more than distract him.”
She hit record on her phone camera, whispering to herself, “You wanna play 90s-style, Wayne? Let’s see how you like a little old-school revenge.”
Back at the café, Amber sat alone, staring at her reflection in her phone screen.
Her mind was racing — Anthony’s promises, Iman’s manipulation, Shayla’s shadow everywhere she turned. Nothing felt real anymore.
Suddenly, her phone rang — it was Anthony.
She hesitated, then answered.
“Hey.”
Anthony’s voice was calm, too calm. “You busy?”
“Not really,” she lied.
“I just wanted to tell you… I got a call today. From Shayla.”
Amber froze. “What did she say?”
Anthony chuckled. “She said… you’ve been seen with Iman. That you’re doing deals behind my back.”
Amber’s heart dropped. “What?! That’s not— Anthony, listen—”
But he cut her off. “I don’t know what game y’all playing, but if I find out you’re using my name in some scheme…”
Click. The line went dead.
Amber’s hand trembled. “Shayla,” she whispered. “You snake.”
Cut to: Wayne’s studio.
Wayne was pacing, phone in hand.
WAYNE (voice message to Shayla): “You showing up tomorrow or what? Don’t make me regret inviting you around Tamara again. I see that attitude.”
He paused the recording, grinning to himself. “She mad — good. Let her burn.”
But as he hit send, his assistant Piarry stepped in, holding an envelope. “Wayne… this came for you. No return name.”
Wayne frowned, tore it open — and froze. Inside was a single photo:
Tamara and D — holding hands.
In the corner, scribbled in red ink:
“You think she’s yours? Think again.”
Meanwhile — Shayla at home.
She watched the same photo on her phone, smiling wickedly. “Let’s see how you handle this, 90s boy.”
Her mother called from the other room, “Shayla, you playing with fire again?”
Shayla smirked. “No, Mama. This time… I am the fire.”
At that very moment, across the city, Iman was meeting someone in a dark car parked near the hospital.
The voice inside was low, female.
“So… did she agree?”
Iman nodded. “Amber’s in. But Anthony’s starting to ask questions.”
The woman leaned forward — her face finally visible under the dim light. It was Shayla’s mother.
“Good,” she whispered. “Then it’s time for phase two.”
Next Episode Preview (teaser):
🔥 Wayne finds out Tamara’s “secret” — but who sent the photo?
🔥 Amber discovers what Iman and Shayla are really planning.
🔥 And Shayla’s mother? She’s not just greedy — she’s dangerous.
“Every deal has a price… and this time, someone’s about to lose everything.”
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