"So you want me to actively work to SAVE my father’s life? Protect him from Maya’s poisoning?"

Heena looked at him with a sly smile and said, "Well, don’t you think it would be strategically beneficial? If he dies now, the inheritance situation becomes complicated. There could be disputes, investigations, claims from distant relatives."

She paused as they continued walking, Samuel’s hand still supporting her waist—and notably, still gently massaging the sore muscles there as they moved.

"But if he lives long enough to formally transfer everything to you BEFORE he dies, then the inheritance is clean, legal, and unchallengeable."

Samuel nodded slowly, processing this logic.

"So we save him, get him to sign over all assets and authority to me, THEN allow nature—or Maya’s schemes—to take their course?"

"Exactly," Heena confirmed.

As they walked, she subtly adjusted her position and said to Samuel, "Slightly higher with the massage. The pain is more concentrated in my upper hip area."

Samuel’s hand obediently moved up a few inches, his fingers working the tense muscles with surprising skill.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Mmm, yes, that’s better," Heena said with relief.

They continued walking in this intimate configuration—to any observer, a tender couple taking a stroll, the husband caringly supporting and massaging his wife.

In reality, they were two ruthless strategists plotting inheritance manipulation and calculated murder prevention.

"There’s another factor to consider," Samuel said thoughtfully. "If my father dies while still mentally competent and in possession of his faculties, any will or transfer he makes is legally solid."

"Right," Heena agreed. "But if he dies while clearly unwell, drugged, or mentally compromised, his final legal documents could be challenged as made under duress or diminished capacity."

"So we need him healthy enough to sign things, but not SO healthy that he changes his mind or gets suspicious about why we’re suddenly so helpful," Samuel concluded.

"Exactly," Heena said. "It’s a delicate balance."

Samuel’s hand continued its therapeutic massage as they walked.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I’m actually impressed by how ruthlessly practical you are about this. Most women would have some emotional resistance to discussing their father-in-law’s death so casually."

Heena snorted. "Most women haven’t experienced what I have. And frankly, your father has done enough terrible things that I don’t feel particularly moved to protect him out of filial piety."

"Fair enough," Samuel acknowledged.

"The ONLY reason I’m suggesting we keep him alive is strategic benefit," Heena continued. "The moment that benefit is secured, I have zero interest in preventing Maya from finishing what she started."

"Noted," Samuel said. "So what’s the plan? How do we keep him alive long enough without making Maya suspicious?"

Heena considered this. "We need to be subtle. I can’t just stop administering the poisoned medicine entirely—that would be too obvious. But I can... dilute it. ’Accidentally’ spill doses. Forget to give it on schedule."

She winced as a particular sore spot in her back flared up.

"More to the left," she instructed Samuel, who immediately adjusted his massage technique.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she confirmed.

They turned a corner into a more private section of the corridor.

"We also need to create a plausible reason for you to start handling your father’s business affairs," Heena continued. "Something that doesn’t look like we’re preparing for his imminent death."

Samuel nodded. "I could cite his ill health as justification for him to ’temporarily’ delegate responsibilities to me for ’rest and recovery.’"

"Perfect," Heena agreed. "Frame it as filial concern, not ambition."

"And Maya?" Samuel asked. "She’s not going to be happy about either development—me gaining control of the business OR her husband surviving her poisoning attempts."

Heena smiled coldly. "Let her be unhappy. What’s she going to do? Openly admit she’s been poisoning him?"

"She could try other methods," Samuel pointed out. "More dramatic ones. An ’accident,’ perhaps."

"True," Heena acknowledged. "We’ll need to ensure someone is with your father at all times. Preferably servants we can trust or that we’ve bribed."

Samuel’s massage hit a particularly tender spot and Heena couldn’t help a small sound of discomfort.

"Too hard?" Samuel asked with concern.

"No, just sore there," Heena said. "Keep going, just be gentle in that area."

His touch became softer, more careful.

"You know," Samuel said quietly, "if anyone had told me three months ago that I’d be having this conversation with my wife—plotting my father’s managed survival for inheritance purposes while giving her a therapeutic massage in a corridor—I would have thought they were insane."

Heena laughed softly. "If anyone had told ME three months ago what my life would look like now, I would have... well, actually, I’ve experienced stranger things. But this is definitely unusual."

"Stranger things?" Samuel asked with curiosity. "What kind of stranger things?"

Heena realized she’d said too much.

"Just... complicated family situations in my past," she deflected. "Nothing relevant now."

Samuel looked like he wanted to press for details, but he respected her privacy.

"Alright," he said. "Keeping mysterious. I can accept that."

They reached the entrance to their private quarters.

Samuel helped Heena inside and guided her to sit on the bed.

"Let me get some warming oil for your back," he said. "A proper massage will help more than what I could do while walking."

Heena wanted to protest that she was fine, that she didn’t need help, that she could manage on her own.

But honestly, everything hurt and a proper massage sounded amazing.

"Fine," she agreed. "But this doesn’t change anything about our strategic partnership. This is just... practical pain management."

Samuel smiled as he retrieved the oil. "Of course. Purely practical."

He sat behind her on the bed and began working the warming oil into her sore muscles with skilled hands.

"Though I have to say," he added conversationally, "for a ’purely strategic partnership,’ we certainly engage in a lot of intimate activities."

"That’s just physical compatibility," Heena said, trying to maintain her position even as she melted under his massage. "It doesn’t mean anything emotionally."

"If you say so, wife," Samuel replied, clearly not believing her.

His hands worked methodically, finding every knot and sore spot, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Heena found herself relaxing despite her determination to maintain emotional distance.

"We need to start the business transition soon," she said, trying to focus on strategy instead of how good his hands felt. "Before Maya escalates her plans."

"Agreed," Samuel said. "I’ll speak with Father tomorrow. Frame it as concern for his health and wanting to ease his burden."

"Good," Heena approved.

They fell into comfortable silence, Samuel continuing his massage while Heena mentally mapped out the next steps of their plan.

Save the old Master (temporarily).

Secure the inheritance transfer.

Gather evidence against Maya.

Survive the memory unlock in three days.

Discover whatever terrible truth Seera’s past was hiding.

.

.

.

10 minutes later samuel office.

Samuel’s hands continued their therapeutic work, moving methodically across Heena’s lower back with warm oil.

"How’s the pressure?" he asked, his thumbs working along her spine.

"Good," Heena murmured, her eyes closed. "Very good."

She was so focused on the relief from pain that she didn’t notice when Samuel’s touch began to shift.

The massage strokes became slower. More deliberate.

His hands moved from purely therapeutic pressure points to broader, sweeping motions across her skin.