We move through the crowd as discreetly as possible, avoiding direct eye contact to keep from drawing attention — not that being surrounded by security guards helps. Jess and I make our way toward the parking spot Ella sent us.

  Wally is swinging a jump rope, its other end tied to the truck’s platform, while Zoe jumps over it. The moment she sees us, she stumbles, nearly tripping, then dashes toward us.

  “Where have you been all day?” Zoe grabs my arm. “I want to show you everything the truck can do! Sam showed me yesterday.”

  I glance at Wally, who just shrugs, looking like he’s heard this story one too many times.

  “Who’s Sam?” Jess asks, keeping pace with me.

  “Nobody worth knowing. He’s a pain,” I whisper, making sure Zoe doesn’t hear.

  “He’s my friend, and he built this truck,” she declares proudly, motioning toward the vehicle, which casts a soft glow, in a three-meter radius around it.

  Unlike the other vehicles, which either rely on massive external lights or settle for the dim glow of a few lamps, this one looks naturally illuminated. Soft white light reflects off its dark glass walls, while more light spills from the interior, now open like a giant wraparound balcony.

  Ella sits there, peacefully sipping tea.

  “It looks like a tiny open-concept home,” Jess remarks.

  “You need to see the bedroom ceiling — it’s all glass! When it rains, it’s so beautiful. And the bathtub is so deep.”

  “It’s an ofur?,” I correct her.

  “Yeah, that! That’s what Sam called it. It’s a bathtub you sit in.”

  “There’s a bathtub in that tiny truck?” Jess asks, skeptical.

  “Yep! And even the toilet is different from the ones in other campers,” Zoe continues, still pulling me forward.

  “What’s so special about the toilet?” I ask, grateful I never had to use it when this was still Sam’s truck.

  “I’ll show you!” Zoe insists, perking up when she notices Jess looking down, clearly uninterested. Wally, on the other hand, raises his head, his curiosity piqued.

  “The toilet is basically a bag filled with sawdust,” Wally explains, oddly enthusiastic. “Every time you press the button, the used biodegradable bag seals itself, and a new one opens, automatically filling with fresh sawdust. All you have to do is empty the box into the trash after sixteen uses. Apparently, it’s one of the cleanest, most eco-friendly, and least smelly options out there.”

  “Isn’t Sam a genius?” Zoe beams. “But he says this truck is still far from his ‘ultimate vehicle.’”

  She sighs dramatically like she’s talking about an old, wise mentor. “You know, he wants to retire so he can focus on designing it full-time, but they won’t let him. It’s so sad.”

  “Don’t be fooled, he’s still young,” I mutter to Jess. “And to top it off, his boss is literally paying him to travel and do whatever he wants while working on this ‘ultimate vehicle,’ and he still complains. Like I said, unbearable.” I make sure Jess gets the full picture. “All he does is go around calling people dumb and shallow.”

  “Uncle… don’t talk about him like that! He’s amazing, and he helped us,” Zoe protests.

  At this point, I’d rather spend an entire night freezing, stuck in the mud, miserable than hear another word about Sam.

  “You just need to get to know him better,” Ella chimes in. “I don’t think he’s arrogant like you say. He’s smart, but Sam doesn’t go around bragging about it.”

  “Oh yeah? He got mad at his coworkers for saying something was impossible and said he’d rub it in their faces when he proved them wrong. How is that not bragging?”

  “I think Sam is humble. He just got upset because they underestimated him,” Ella counters. “Besides, you’re kind of the same way, aren’t you? Haven’t you been trying to reinvent yourself for a similar reason?” She narrows her eyes at me.

  I reach out to help Jess onto the truck’s platform.

  “JJ’s already past that,” my girlfriend says, smiling calmly as we rise.

  Past it? Like it was some kind of disease or a childish tantrum?

  “Is that so?” Ella raises an eyebrow, waiting for my confirmation.

  “He’s just taking a break between projects. He’ll accept a new role soon,” Jess answers for me. “Maybe we’ll even land another one together. That movie was a box office hit — I bet plenty of directors want to recreate that success. And we do too, don’t we?”

  Jess steps through the mesh screen surrounding the balcony and sits down at the table with Ella.

  “Being back on set with you wouldn’t be so bad.”

  I decide not to argue about her choice of words in front of them.

  Especially because that little menace Zoe already doesn’t like her — if she smells blood, she’ll go straight for our relationship.

  “Babe, I forgot my bottle. Could you grab me some water? I’m starting to get hungry,” Jess asks as I follow Wally into the truck.

  “I’ll show you the toilet on the way!” Zoe tugs me along again.

  “I’m getting hungry too. Are we eating here or at WG?” Wally stops near the entrance, watching as Zoe opens a hidden door in the wall right next to the main entrance.

  The tiny cubicle doesn’t have much to see — most of the mechanism is concealed. There’s just an open bag filled with sawdust inside a built-in box, ergonomically designed for sitting.

  “Interesting. It really doesn’t smell.”

  “It releases a lavender scent when you press the sealing button. And here, this shows how many bags are left before the box needs to be emptied,” Zoe points to a small screen on the right side with a single button.

  “Here.” Wally hands me a bottle of water.

  “There’s never anywhere to sit at WG. Let’s buy food and bring it back here,” I say, heading back to the balcony.

  “You guys have the menu. My assistant can pick it up,” Jess offers.

  “Well, what a pleasure to see you here tonight.” I hear Johan approaching, flanked by his assistants carrying several bags.

  “I haven’t seen much of you with them since your girlfriend arrived, but I won’t blame you. I know what it’s like to miss someone after being apart for so long.” He sighs. “I miss my wife, and we’ve been married for thirty years. At this point, I’ve spent more of my life with her than without. I can barely remember what life was like before her.” He chuckles.

  Johan comes across as a friendly old man — despite sometimes reminding me of a miserly Scrooge McDuck.

  “Sam should be walking with Furioso around this time. Go call him so he can finally meet Miss Watson.”

  The shrewd and ever-intrusive businessman strikes.

  Zoe takes off running, Wally right behind her.

  “Sam had dinner with you guys last night?”

  I have no idea what happened after Jess arrived.

  We walked around, took some pictures, and spent the rest of the time in our room until this afternoon when I messaged Ella to ask if they wanted to grab dinner. Otherwise, I’d probably be eating yet another meal in the bathroom so Jess wouldn’t smell the food.

  She insisted on coming along, even though it would be torture for her — she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  But I get it. She doesn’t want to seem like the reason I disappeared and even less like someone antisocial who would rather stay holed up in the room while I go out, giving the impression she can’t stand my friends.

  Even when it’s torture, she’s still so friendly and selfless.

  “Yesterday, Zoe baked some treats for Furioso, and when we went to drop them off, we ended up having dinner with Johan and Sam,” Ella says. “Can you believe there’s some guy following Sam around, trying to recruit him?”

  She shifts to a seat against the wall to free up an easily accessible spot as Johan steps onto the balcony.

  “I saw him heading out of the VIP lounge,” I say.

  “He invited himself to dinner with us yesterday. It was weird. Honestly, he’s on the verge of being a stalker. No, scratch that. He is a stalker. The guy literally set up camp outside Sam’s workshop. Johan’s even thinking of hiring security to protect him.”

  “This Sam guy is really that important?” Jess asks.

  “No, I’m not that important.” Sam approaches his face as sullen and bored as ever.

  “I’m not a stalker,” Daniel retorts.

  The funny thing is, he somehow knew we were talking about him.

  “I’m just thinking about the future of my company,” Daniel says. “And I don’t think it’s a bad idea for Sam to have security. I’m the least dangerous of his competitors. Once the others realize how valuable he is, that’s, when things will get risky. That includes my father and brother.”

  “Get lost. No one invited you.” Sam, in all his brutally blunt glory, stares at Daniel with pure disdain.

  Zoe, standing beside him, snickers, earning a scolding look from Wally.

  “If I only existed where I was invited, I wouldn’t have been born.” Daniel flashes a playful grin, effortlessly brushing off Sam’s verbal stab as he steps onto the balcony too.

  And honestly? I don’t doubt his words, considering how his father and brother treat him.

  “Jessica Walton, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sam King.” He extends his hand and nods with the kind of polite elegance you’d expect from an old-fashioned gentleman.

  Any further, and I’d swear he’d be kissing my girlfriend’s hand.

  “Daniel Wolfgang, just like the car.” The arrogant one mimics Sam’s introduction — but unlike him, he actually does kiss her hand.

  Then, with the audacity of a lifelong con artist, he stops beside Sam as if they’re together, looking so at ease that, from a distance, no one would guess he’s an unwanted intruder.

  With so many people crammed onto the balcony, space is running out. Sam moves to the other side of the table, where there’s more room.

  His shadow follows.

  I catch the exact moment when, ever so casually, Daniel lets his shoulder brush against Sam’s while squeezing through the narrow gap.

  Sam’s death glare cuts over his shoulder, eyes scanning him coldly — right as fate intervenes.

  Daniel trips over Sam’s foot, nearly tumbling off the balcony, but manages to grab onto Sam’s wrist at the last second.

  Mr. ‘Don’t Touch Me’ shoves him off with a look of sheer disgust, like he’s just been contaminated by toxic waste.

  As soon as he’s free, Sam dusts off the area where he was touched, then — because he’s nothing if not dramatic — adjusts his jumpsuit with exaggerated precision, as if that single brush of contact knocked his entire outfit askew.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  How dramatic.

  This is going to be fun.

  Especially since, for once, Sam’s disdain isn’t directed at me, and I have Jess here tonight.

  But the most intriguing part?

  Daniel isn’t even remotely offended.

  In fact, he looks positively amused, grinning as if Sam’s visible revulsion is the highlight of his day.

  He’s even crazier than Sam.

  Tilting his head, Daniel watches Sam’s stiff, calculated movements with an unsettling gleam of admiration in his eyes.

  Yep. Total stalker.

  “Are you hungry?” Johan lifts the bags toward Sam, already setting food on the table.

  “Starving.” Sam closes his eyes, tilts his head back, inhales deeply like some refined food critic, and sighs in appreciation.

  “You should be. You haven't eaten all day and spent the whole time working alone in the workshop without stopping.” Daniel scolds Sam like a concerned father.

  Or, more accurately, like a lunatic who somehow knows Sam’s entire schedule.

  Sam’s death glare returns, and I love it even more when it’s not aimed at me.

  “I’ll grab more chairs. I have two in my car,” Wally announces.

  “But since Wally just said there are only two extra chairs… that still leaves two of us without seats,” Daniel points out, scanning the table.

  Johan has already settled by the entrance. Jess is next to Ella, gesturing for me to sit beside them.

  “I think those last two spots should go to Zoe and Wally,” Daniel muses, turning to Sam with a friendly smile. “Which means you and I are out of luck.”

  He pauses as if considering.

  “As polite guests, why don’t we go eat somewhere else? My treat.”

  “You don’t count, you’re not even invited. I’m the only inconvenience here.”

  What a stalker. But honestly, I almost feel bad for him.

  “But it won’t be a problem because I don’t mind sitting on the floor,” Sam says, grabbing a food container.

  “Me neither,” Zoe quickly chimes in, eager to join him.

  And just like that, Sam and Zoe are perched on the balcony's edge, legs swinging, balancing makeshift trays on their laps when Wally returns.

  “Aren’t you going to eat, Miss Watson?” Johan slides a container toward Jess.

  I glance at Sam, waiting for his reaction — eager for his judgment, ready to retaliate in defense of my girlfriend.

  But—

  “No…” Jess replies, and Sam doesn’t even acknowledge it.

  How disappointing.

  “In that case, would you mind if I took your food? I can pay for it,” Daniel asks, eyeing her plate even though there are plenty of other options.

  Jess hesitates, finding the request odd. Still, she shrugs.

  “Sure, no need to pay me — I didn’t buy it.”

  She hands it over, but then glances at Johan as if realizing he might not want Daniel to have it. Johan, ever indifferent, simply shrugs.

  Daniel thanks her quickly, grabs the food, and settles right beside Sam — who’s now deep in conversation with Zoe.

  About the toilet.

  Is this some kind of family obsession?

  “Aren’t you even going to eat a salad, Jess?” Wally asks, holding out a plate he just opened — one that, to his dismay, contains only salad.

  Clearly, he’s trying to offload it before Ella notices he’s avoiding the healthy option.

  “As soon as the tour ends, I’ll be back filming the third season of the series. I’m preparing for it. My trainer and nutritionist put me on a strict schedule, and I’m currently fasting.”

  “Won’t it bother you to watch us eat?” Ella asks.

  “I learned to handle the smell by putting menthol under my nose. The rest is just willpower.”

  “That sounds tough. You must have a lot of discipline,” Sam muses, voice laced with an unreadable tone.

  Sarcastic? Philosophical? Who knows.

  “You’ve done intermittent fasting before?” Jess takes the bait.

  “I have.”

  “You mean you forgot to eat because you were working or something?” Even Johan looks doubtful.

  “No. I know how hard it is, so props to you for your self-control. I did intermittent fasting a few times, just for a week, and every meal felt like torture.

  I had cash in my pocket, snacks within reach, and knowing that only made it worse.”

  “Getting in shape is tough,” Jess sympathizes.

  “Oh… it wasn’t for that.” Sam shrugs. “I ran away from boarding school and couldn’t spend money on food — I had to save for bus tickets or, later on, for gas.”

  “You were poor as a kid? Your dad didn’t give you money?” I can’t help but feel a little bad for him.

  Sure, he’s doing fine now — he even seems spoiled — but maybe he’s had it rough before. Maybe that’s why he’s built such a thick shell around himself.

  “My dad thought that taking away my bank card would stop me from running away.”

  Nope.

  Sam really was just a spoiled brat.

  “Always been a rebel,” Johan chuckles.

  Wally turns to Zoe, eyes lighting up with a brilliant idea.

  “It’s not cool to skip school,” Ella warns.

  “If you’re going to skip, at least get good grades. No point in spending extra time in that prison they call school. Just stay as long as necessary.

  I always came back for exams and never exceeded the absence limit.”

  Now that’s an interesting take. A strategy, even.

  “I liked school,” Ella counters.

  Most of the others nod in agreement.

  “I didn’t really,” Daniel says, the only one siding with Sam.

  “I was constantly being compared to all the relatives who had studied at the same institution before me.”

  “I always wanted to go to school,” Jess adds. “The closest I ever got to experiencing student life was playing roles on TV.”

  “You would’ve definitely been one of the popular girls,” Daniel remarks. “Just like your boyfriend.”

  “You weren’t popular?” Johan questions him.

  “I was. But that didn’t stop me from being my brother’s and his friends’ doormat. On top of that, there was the constant pressure not to tarnish the family name.”

  “I think the most popular one here was Wally,” I conclude, glancing at the country’s rising sports star — still just a high schooler.

  He silently smiles, a bit shy, while Ella links her arm with his.

  Even though he’s younger than me, he made a name for himself way before I did. I only got discovered in my last years of college — he was already landing major sponsorships in high school.

  “He definitely wins the high school popularity contest,” Daniel suggests. “I don’t even think my brother could compete with him. Victor was, at best, well-known at school and in the industry. Wally would only rival Miss Watson’s popularity if he had actually attended high school.”

  “Didn’t your brother make it into a magazine as one of the wealthiest young heirs?” Johan asks.

  “Yeah,” Daniel shrugs, flashing a playful grin — but I catch the way his jaw clenches.

  “Sam must’ve been popular too, as the brooding rebel type,” Ella teases.

  “The first motorcycle he ever built was in high school. Did it make escaping easier?” Johan nudges Sam into the conversation.

  “Only when they couldn’t find where I hid it. Better than waiting for the bus while they were out looking for me.”

  “Did you take girls for rides when you skipped school?” Ella grins mischievously.

  “The first time, Mother Hildegard tried to stop me, and I dragged her along so she wouldn’t alert the others.

  You should’ve heard her scream as we flew down the Alps at full speed.

  So, I guess the answer is yes.” Sam smirks at the memory.

  He’s definitely going to hell.

  “You don’t seem… very decent, but I bet you’re… fun,” Jess finally comments, smiling politely — her usual delicate way of calling someone insane.

  “Mad,” I murmur.

  “There’s a fine line between madness and genius,” Daniel jumps in, feeling bold enough to lean in and relax his shoulders.

  I’ve made that mistake before — getting too comfortable around Sam.

  Predictably, Sam stiffens, glaring at him with pure hatred.

  Does Daniel really think he can win Sam over with flattery?

  I don’t know Sam that well, but it’s obvious that’s not the way to go.

  As they said — he’s a rebel. He doesn’t care about social niceties or pats on the back.

  “I’m neither a genius nor crazy. I just try to accomplish my goals.” Sam shoves Daniel back to regain his personal space and goes back to eating.

  “It’s a very stable platform. Is it a hydraulic system?” Daniel asks, but Sam keeps eating.

  I’m not the only one who feels like they’re talking to a brick wall around Sam.

  Meanwhile, Ella turns to Jess, shifting the conversation toward recent productions and gossip, sensing that the guys are about to start discussing work.

  “Is it independent on the other side? Where’s the central system?” When Daniel realizes Sam won’t answer, he keeps going. “This model is a huge leap forward compared to the others. Is this what you’ve been working on for the past few months? Is that why you disappeared and barely showed up at headquarters?”

  “For God’s sake, how long have you been stalking Sam?” Johan blurts out.

  “Since I met him. I imagine the same happened to you. After all, would there be any other reason you didn’t… let him quit?”

  “We’re… symbiotic.”

  “He gives ideas, and you leech off him?”

  “He gives ideas, I invest, and we both make money. After all, he has intellectual property, royalties, and company shares.

  It’s the same as with your father — unless you’re implying he’s just a parasite like you’re suggesting I am.

  If Sam already wants more freedom with me, can you even imagine him working for your father?”

  “He wouldn’t be working for my father. He’d be working for me.”

  “Everyone knows you have no real power in your family or the company. You’re just one of the engineers.”

  “One of the best.

  And one of the few people who understands Sam — and the frustration of being limited by small-minded people. Only people with little imagination give up on solving a problem by deciding it’s impossible.

  It’s easy to say something is impossible — what’s hard is finding a solution.”

  I see Sam glance curiously at Daniel, while Johan grits his teeth.

  “You eavesdropped on our conversation,” Sam concludes.

  “What conversation?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Johan catches onto Sam’s logic. “One day, Sam complains about people calling things impossible, and the next day, you drop that line?”

  “I didn’t overhear anything. In my view, it just proves how similarly we think.”

  “You planned this to manipulate him.”

  “I wish I had done it on purpose, but I’m pleased it turned out this way.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sam decides to put an end to it.

  “Speaking of unsolved problems, Mr. Jones,” Johan takes Sam’s cue. “Ella mentioned you’ll be staying with them for a few more weeks. Wouldn’t you like to take your girlfriend out in the expedition pickup? It’s quite similar to the vehicle that will be used in the competition.”

  “He’s not interested in doing the documentary, and I’m leaving tomorrow,” Jess says with a sympathetic smile.

  “What documentary? I thought they invited him to narrate at the finish line,” Daniel asks, intrigued.

  “So you didn’t hear everything,” Johan grins knowingly.

  “Hear what?”

  Johan debates whether to say it or not but decides to spill. And as the cherry on top, another guy joins in Sam, staring at me just like Sam does — like I’m some kind of pervert.

  What is their problem? Do they really think so much alike that even without knowing me, this guy assumes I’m a pervert?

  He’s the stalker here, yet I’m the one getting labeled?

  Wait! I haven’t done anything for Daniel to think I’d be a pervert around Sam.

  Oh my God — Sam told him about the grease.

  How embarrassing.

  Who else might he have told?

  This cannot get out.

  Am I going to have to talk to Sam about this? What an awkward conversation that will be. But I have to stop him from telling anyone else.

  I didn’t think he’d say anything — he’s so reserved.

  Maybe I can ask Johan to talk to Sam instead. Yes, better.

  A favor in return for using and, by extension, promoting his products for free. Just sitting here with my girlfriend has already gotten us in a few pictures. No doubt he’s making money off of it.

  “You must understand there’s no way JJ will agree. You should offer it to someone else — someone more experienced in adventure. Or, if you’re looking for someone inexperienced, why not get a comedian? It would be even funnier watching them struggle.” Jess answers for me.

  “It would be a waste to put just anyone on Sam’s team. He’ll already be their biggest advertisement if he wins the grand prize,” Daniel ends up agreeing with Jess.

  “Are you already giving up?” Johan raises an eyebrow.

  “No. If anyone can beat him, it’s me. But I know his skills — I wouldn’t underestimate Sam.

  However, if I were you, I also wouldn’t underestimate me by placing someone in the race just to slow Sam down.”

  “You’re competing personally this year?” Johan leans back in his chair.

  “Now that I know Sam is returning to the race, I won’t miss the chance.”

  “Will your father allow it, after the accident?”

  “Of course. Especially with my brother fully supporting the decision. You never know when another accident might happen.” He laughs mockingly. “I won’t miss the chance to face my rival. Without me, Sam would get bored without a worthy competitor.” He finishes with a crooked smile at Sam.

  Sam keeps eating as if he hasn’t heard a word, but I can see a faint smirk forming between spoonfuls.

  “You mean to eat his dust? Or wait for him to pull you out of another mess like last time?” Johan teases.

  “Not even Sam could have dodged that landslide. And up until that moment, I was in the lead.”

  “Because he was being cautious about the landslide.”

  “How can someone prepare for that? Even going slowly, there was no other route down that mountain.”

  “He’s no race car prodigy, but at least he built a vehicle tough enough to survive it. Most of the other competitors wouldn’t have been so lucky.”

  “See? This is way too dangerous — I don’t want you there,” Jess speaks up, drawing the attention of the two men, who pause their smug smiles just to shoot me identical looks — like evil twins silently calling me a coward.

  “It must be thrilling,” Zoe chimes in, interested.

  “It’s not always that risky. The real challenge is crossing obstacles with as little effort as possible and reaching the destination, knowing that only a few made it,” Daniel explains to Zoe.

  “The real thrill is getting closer and closer to building a vehicle that can reach anywhere. A house that turns the world into your home,” Sam muses, looking at the view of caravans spread out in the landscape.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” his personal cheerleader sighs.

  “Mr. Wolfgang, your father requests your presence in the VIP lounge immediately,” a pompous-looking man appears, flanked by two bodyguards.

  “Coming with me?” He jumps down from the platform and extends a hand to Sam, who ignores him. “Figured as much. A few hours on the first day were already enough for you.”

  Even from a distance, I can hear the pompous man’s phone blaring in his ear.

  “Now, Mr. Wolfgang.”

  “See you soon,” he says before disappearing.