Lynn sipped her wine slowly, watching Lwandile across the candlelit table. They weren't on a date. This was a strategy session. At least, that's what she told herself.
The private lounge was quiet, dimly lit — the kind of place where secrets were whispered, not shouted.
> "So what exactly do you know?" she asked, setting her glass down.
Lwandile smirked, reclining like he owned the place. "You're not going to like it."
"I already don't like you. Hit me with it."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping low. "Thabiso's marriage to Naledi is a cover. There's a business merger happening behind the scenes — millions in offshore accounts. Your name? It's still connected to one of them."
Lynn blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Apparently," Lwandile said, "Thabiso never removed you from the original investment documents. If this gets out, the media will think you're in on it."
Her fingers curled into fists. "He's trying to ruin me."
"No," he said, "he's trying to erase you. There's a difference."
Lynn stood up, fury rising like a wave. "He wants me to look like a bitter ex while they ride off into the sunset as the power couple of the year."
"And you're going to let that happen?" Lwandile asked, voice calm.
She turned to him slowly.
> "Not a chance."
He grinned. "Now that's the Lynn I remember."
She walked over to him, heels clicking with purpose.
> "I'll play your game, Lwandile. But I'm not your pawn."
"I never said you were."
His voice was soft now — almost respectful. Almost.
She leaned in close, close enough to smell his cologne.
> "Good. Because if you ever cross me again…"
She smiled, sweet and deadly.
"I won't miss this time."
Lwandile's eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable.
> "Understood."
They stared at each other for a heartbeat too long — tension crackling like fire between enemies with unfinished business.
Whatever they were now, it was dangerous.
But it was also irresistible.
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