The air inside the mountain retreat felt thick with dread, the kind that seeped into the walls and clung to every breath. Nick Newman lay on a makeshift cot in a hastily repurposed storage room, his skin pale and clammy, his abdomen wrapped in blood-soaked fabric that was doing little to stop the internal damage. Time wasn’t on his side, and everyone in the room knew it. Sharon stayed at his side, holding his hand tightly, whispering softly with a desperate kind of hope, while Sally Spectra paced nearby, trying to remember everything she had once learned about field triage back in her carnival days. She wasn’t a medic, she had never claimed to be, but she had seen enough injuries and chaos to recognize that Nick didn’t have hours; he had minutes.

When Billy Abbott burst in with supplies he had scavenged from the lodge’s basement, Sally didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees beside Nick, her hands moving with an urgency she hadn’t felt in years. Sharon backed away only slightly, just enough to let her work, but she never let go of Nick’s other hand. He was slipping, and if they didn’t stabilize him soon, they were going to lose him. Sally forced herself to ignore the shaking in her fingers as she cut away the makeshift dressing, revealing the deep wound across Nick’s lower stomach. She exhaled sharply but didn’t look away. Billy was right. She’d done this before in dirty tents and beneath stadium bleachers, when lives depended on duct tape, whiskey, and sheer determination. This wasn’t that different, just more personal.

Meanwhile, in a dark room hidden behind the northern corridor of the estate, Victor Newman and Chance Chancellor stood in silence, their eyes fixed on a listening device crackling with live audio. They had found it earlier, one of Carter’s final contingencies, a tapped line meant to monitor conversations. Now, it served a different purpose. It gave them ears inside Cain Ashby’s private study. They listened as Cain spoke to an unknown third party, his voice calm, rehearsed, and disturbingly confident. He spoke of how Nick’s arrest had turned public opinion, how Chancellor’s shares were dipping in confusion, and how leverage could shift entirely if Nikki Newman folded under pressure. Victor’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he exchanged a glance with Chance. It wasn’t just a theory anymore. It was real. Cain was playing a power game, using blood, chaos, and manipulation to destabilize Chancellor Industries, and Nick was just a pawn. Chance, his voice low and filled with disgust, whispered that they needed to act fast before Nikki made a decision she couldn’t take back.

Across the estate, Nikki Newman was already a few steps ahead. She had met with Lauren Fenmore in one of the side salons, and the conversation had quickly grown intense. Nikki confessed that she believed Nick’s arrest, the chaos around his injury, and the mysterious events unfolding weren’t isolated incidents. They were part of Cain’s larger plan to seize control. She knew Cain didn’t care about legacy or justice. He cared about leverage, about tipping the board until everyone bent to his terms. Lauren, incredulous, asked if Nikki was seriously considering giving in, sacrificing Chancellor Industries to buy Nick’s safety. Nikki didn’t flinch. If it meant protecting her son, she would burn the whole company down. Lauren tried to reason with her, insisting they could find another way. But Nikki had already made her calculations. In her mind, Nick’s life was non-negotiable. She wouldn’t lose another son, not to this war.

Back in the makeshift medical room, Sally worked with a focus that drowned out the world. She was improvising stitches using fishing line, her hands slick with blood, her voice steady as she gave Sharon instructions. Nick moaned, drifting in and out, his body reacting to the trauma, the fever, the sheer exhaustion. Sharon whispered stories to keep him grounded. She told him about the first time Noah rode a bike, about Summer’s tantrums, about Faith’s obsession with animals. She spoke of Christian and the time Nick made pancakes in the shape of stars. She reminded him who he was as a father, brother, protector. Nick’s grip tightened faintly, and Sally took that as a sign to keep going.

Billy re-entered the room after a brief absence, having spoken again with Victor. He pulled Sally aside just long enough to tell her that if she hadn’t stepped in, Nick would be dead already. She tried to dismiss it, saying she wasn’t a doctor, wasn’t trained. But Billy wouldn’t let her diminish what she had done. He reminded her of the carnival life, the broken bones, the knife wounds, the nights where no ambulance came. Sally didn’t need credentials to save someone. She just needed heart, and she had more of that than anyone he’d ever known. He urged her to stay with Nick because whether she believed it or not, Nick needed her more than anyone right now.

Later, when Sharon stepped into the hallway to speak with Billy, she asked him what his next move would be. Billy replied that if their current plan didn’t work, he’d go down the mountain himself and get help the old-fashioned way. Sharon nodded, trying to keep hope in her voice as she reassured him that they would find a way. When she returned to Nick’s side, she picked up where she left off. Memories, soft laughter, stories that kept the light alive in his eyes. Outside, the estate was growing colder. Storm clouds rolled over the French hills like omens. Victor and Chance regrouped with Lauren and Nikki, quietly planning their next steps. Nikki remained adamant she would trade everything to save her son. But Victor, now armed with the knowledge of Cain’s treachery, was no longer willing to bargain. He wanted justice. He wanted Cain to answer for every lie, every move. And he would take him down the only way Victor Newman knew how: with power.

But the war was far from over. Nick lay bleeding, barely clinging to life, while the real enemy sat comfortably pretending to seek justice. Carter, as always, remained one step removed, a silent figure lurking in Cain’s shadow, watching, calculating, waiting for the right moment to strike again. But this time, Victor was watching, too. And Victor never forgot a betrayal.

Will Victor publicly expose Carter and Cain’s conspiracy, or will Nikki’s desperation force a different path?