THE NEXT DAY
The black car pulled smoothly into the airport drop-off zone, its engine purring like a beast restrained. The tinted windows slid down, and Mr Ziko—known to many as Tonna when outside his empire—stepped out in a crisp dark suit that clung to his tall, lean frame with the ease of money well-spent. His every step carried authority, as if even the tiled floor beneath him should be grateful to be touched by his soles.
Kyle was right at his side, matching his pace, wheeling the sleek luggage behind him. At the check-in counter, Kyle handed over the neatly prepared documents, his voice calm and professional, though his eyes flicked nervously at his boss's unreadable profile.
"Here, Mr. Ziko."
Tonna took the passport without looking, his gaze already fixed on the gate ahead. He walked two steps forward, then paused, turning ever so slightly. His deep eyes locked onto Kyle with quiet authority.
"Take care of things here. It will get noisy soon enough. I'll be away for a while."
His tone wasn't merely an instruction—it was a warning.
Kyle bowed his head slightly. "Take care, boss."
Without another word, Tonna turned and strode toward the gate. Every passerby's gaze lingered on him, drawn not only to his striking beauty but to the aura that wrapped around him like a cloak of power.
As he disappeared through the gates, Kyle's phone buzzed. He answered quickly, stepping aside.
"Yes, sir. He just went through. Yes, I'll be there. Understood."
His voice lowered, furtive. "Yes, sir!"
He hung up, taking one last glance at the gate Tonna had passed through before walking briskly to the entrance. A sleek black car rolled up, purring as it stopped. Kyle handed over the keys of the car he came with to the waiting driver, received another set in exchange, and without hesitation, slid into the new vehicle.
The car melted back into traffic.
BACK AT THE PENTHOUSE
The silence in Amy's room was broken only by the steady beep of the monitor and the faint hum of the IV machine.
Rachel entered quietly, balancing a tray of warm water, fresh towels, and ointments. Her steps were careful, cautious—like someone walking into a shrine. She set the tray down, adjusted the IV line, and turned to her patient.
"Oh," she gasped softly when she noticed the woman's eyes were open.
For a moment, their gazes locked. Rachel's heart skipped. The woman's eyes were wide, and they seemed to hold a deep haunting story, yet those eyes were unbroken. It was like staring into the depths of someone who had seen both heaven and hell and somehow clawed their way back.
"Oh, you are awake," Rachel said, forcing a cheerful tone.
She pulled a chair closer, her hands busy with the towel as she dipped it into the warm water. "Sorry, my bad manners. My name is Rachel. I'm twenty-eight, and I've been an intensive care nurse at Bridge Water Hospital for over seven years now."
She smiled warmly, as if rehearsed. "So, you don't have to be afraid. I've been taking care of you since you arrived… and I'll continue to do so until you're back on your feet."
Amy blinked slowly, her body still unmoving, her throat aching with silence.
Rachel began to gently clean her body, her touch careful but firm, wiping away the sheen of sweat that clung to her skin. "You can't move at the moment, right?" she said softly. "Don't worry—it's only because you haven't used your muscles regularly and recently overstrained them. Once I'm done cleaning you up, I'll massage them. You'll be up and running in no time."
The woman wanted to scream that she didn't care about running—that she needed to know where her children were—but no sound came. Only her wide, pleading eyes spoke.
Rachel glanced at her again, and something in her expression softened.
"You must have a lot of questions," Rachel whispered, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret. "They'll be answered soon. For now, I just want you to focus on getting better, okay? Blink once if you understand me."
Amy waited, her mind a blank slate of confusion, before the meaning of the words finally registered. She forced her eyelids to flutter, and they blinked twice.
Rachel chuckled gently, giving her a bright smile. "Good girl. You're a little fighter, aren't you?" She resumed her work, wiping, massaging, whispering reassurances.
But in the back of her mind, fear lingered. Fear of what would happen if she got into another accident. Fear of what Mr Ziko would do to them if something unexpectedly happened to her.
TONNA ARRIVES IN AXFORD
The hotel lobby was alive with chatter, the air-conditioned chill biting against the warmth outside. A man stood waiting, commanding attention without even trying.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a sharp white shirt with the sleeves folded, exposing toned forearms dusted with veins. His shirt was tucked neatly into slim blue jeans that clung to his muscular thighs. His hair was cropped clean, his beard meticulously groomed, his chin so sharp it looked carved from stone. His face carried a masculine gravity that made people turn twice.
Two other men flanked him like shadows.
As soon as Tonna stepped into the lobby, their eyes met.
"Ton, you crazy bastard!" the man roared, his arms spreading wide.
Tonna laughed heartily, walking into the embrace. The two men hugged tightly, slapping each other's backs.
"Wren," Tonna greeted with a grin.
The pair were a sight—too dangerously handsome in one frame, drawing lingering stares from the women seated across the lobby. Tonna's lean, almost effeminate beauty contrasted sharply with Wren's mature, broad masculinity. They were opposites, yet equally magnetic.
"When did you get back?" Tonna asked.
Wren's dimpled grin spread mischievously. "Let's grab a drink."
With a casual arm slung around Tonna's shoulder, Wren led him toward the empty bar. Their presence was entrancing, making conversations falter as women unabashedly ogled them. The two men, however, didn't spare a glance.
"Two glasses of malted whiskey," Wren ordered with a tap of his finger.
Tonna chuckled. "Your taste hasn't changed in the past year, has it?"
"Not a chance."
The two men shared a soft snicker, a private joke. The barman returned quickly with their drinks. They held their glasses, looked at each other with knowing smirks, and downed them in unison.
"Whooooo!" Tonna exhaled sharply, shaking his head as the burn subsided. Wren laughed, raising a finger for a refill.
"So," Wren leaned back casually, his hooded eyes gleaming with interest, "want to let me in on your drama?"
Tonna stayed silent, spinning the glass between his fingers.
"After all," Wren continued, "you invited me to Belvaria. Surely you didn't think you'd hide things from me?"
Tonna sighed. "I definitely can't hide anything from you."
"Ah," Wren smirked. "So things didn't go as planned."
Tonna's eyes narrowed. "You know?" He asked suspiciously
"You're not the only one keeping eyes on things."
The sharpness of Wren's tone unsettled Tonna, though he disguised it with a smile.
"No need for formalities between us. We know each other too well."
"What are your terms?" Tonna asked, trying to sound casual.
Wren's grin faded. He leaned forward, moved Tonna's glass away, his voice low and cutting. "Seventy per cent of the shares. Non-negotiable."
Tonna almost choked on his drink. Rage simmered in him, but Wren only looked amused, like a father indulging a child's tantrum.
Tonna could feel the heavy bile rising to his throat. It was outrageous. But then again, Wren was known to be a ruthless businessman. He was a very calculated, cold man who knew how to separate business from pleasure. But seventy per cent was asking for a lot. However, Tonna knew he was cornered. If he needed to shut those old geezers on the board up, he had to make this deal. He racked his brain, searching for a loophole, but there was none. It looked like he would lose this time and live to fight another day. He took in a deep sigh.
"Fine," he muttered at last.
Wren lifted his hand. One of his men brought out contracts, neatly prepared. Tonna chuckled bitterly. "You never fail to dot your I's and cross your T's, Wren. That's one thing I like about you."
"Good to know," Wren replied, sliding a pen across.
They signed swiftly, exchanged copies, then raised their glasses.
"To a fruitful partnership," Wren declared.
The atmosphere lightened, but the tension lingered under the surface.
"So, will you show me the best spots in this country of yours?"
"Sure, if you're up for it."
"You did not just diss me."
Tonna just shrugged. He suddenly stood up and threw the keys in his pocket at Wren, who caught them with a practised ease. "You're driving." He then started walking away. Wren followed behind him, smiling and shaking his head. He was still the same headstrong, crazy young man he had met a couple of years back.
SOME WEEKS LATER – MAMA D'S HOUSE
"Oyin, is your brother back yet?"
"Yes, Mama. Brother came back last night," Oyinye replied casually, flipping through her phone.
Mama D frowned. She hadn't heard him come in last night, and she had left early for her annual meeting with friends. She knew he was coming back, but she hadn't expected the unease stirring inside her.
"Get him for me."
"He's not around," Oyinye said without looking up.
Mama D's head whipped around. "Didn't you just say he was back?"
"Yes, but… he went out. With Sister."
Mama D's heart dropped. "With who?"
"With Sister," Oyinye repeated.
A deep frown carved her face. She rushed upstairs, dialing her daughter's number. No answer. She called again. Nothing. By the fourth attempt, the line went dead.
She hurled the phone onto the bed, pacing the room like a caged animal. Her fingernails gnawed anxiously at her lips as she tried her son's number. No answer.
Fear clawed at her chest. She grabbed her bag and stormed downstairs, almost colliding with Joy.
"Ah! Mom!" Joy stumbled back.
But Mama D was already heading for the door. She stopped only once, spinning around, her eyes fierce.
"Call me the instant your brother comes back. Do you hear me?!"
Joy froze, stunned.
"Answer me!" Mama D roared.
"Yes! Yes!" Joy cried, her voice breaking.
Mama D stormed out, her footsteps echoing like thunder.
Joy stood trembling.
"What's wrong with Mom?" Oyinye asked, coming into the living room.
"I don't know," Joy whispered. "She just… freaked out when she found out Brother went out with Sister. I've never seen her like that."
The two sisters exchanged uneasy looks, confusion heavy in the air.