The next few hours were spent with Wren, introducing Tonna to potential investors and meeting with them.
''Thank you so much, Mrs. Robinson.'' Tonna said, standing up to shake her hand.
She smiled and shook his hand, but her hands went up further, caressing his. She didn't mind that her assistant and Wren were there watching her. He stared into her eyes, grasping her thoughts while giving her a meaningful smile and biting his inner lips seductively. She pulled him over and whispered in his ear while at the same time stuffing a card into his suit breast pocket.
"Let's have a good time. Come, Ernest."
With that, her male aide eyed Tonna. It was clear he didn't like him one bit. He was a pretty young thing with a small face and full lips. His eyes were filled with youth and eagerness. He was well in his early twenties and was very energetic. He had a very average muscular build, which would turn heads under his tight-fitting shirts and pants. She sauntered out of the room. Tonna looked at her retreating back as he pulled the card from his pocket and bit down on it. The woman was well in her fifties but in great shape and very gorgeous. She wasn't any less good-looking than these women in their twenties or thirties. Mrs. Robinson was drop-dead gorgeous and hot.
"You are not thinking about it, right? I heard her husband is a crazy lunatic."
Tonna went back to sit down, crossing his legs, biting his lips seductively at Wren while sassily waving the card. "The more dangerous it is, the more exhilarating it feels."
Wren stood up, smoothing his suit. "It's your funeral." He said to him before walking away. Tonna smiled as he made his way out of the meeting room to the hotel room, anticipating what was to come.
MEANWHILE AT THE OTHER SIDE
"Mom, you called?"
"Yes. Sit down."
Mama D gestured at the empty chair beside her. Her tone was calm, but there was a weight behind it, the kind that always made Duru's stomach knot before she even spoke her mind.
"Anything the matter?" he asked, lowering himself cautiously.
"You've been married a few weeks now," she began, folding her hands across her lap with quiet finality, "and the house has become too cramped. So I was thinking…" she paused, eyes sharp, "…you could rent a place for your sisters and me to live in. That way you and your wife can have some privacy."
Duru blinked as if he had misheard her. The request, so matter-of-fact, sounded almost absurd. He stared at her like she'd suddenly grown horns.
"What is it?" she snapped, irritation already creeping into her voice.
"Mother… I'm just surprised, that's all." He searched for the right words. "When I married Amy, you insisted on living with us—even after we spent so much money fixing the house. So why—"
"Don't ever mention that woman in front of me again."
Her voice cracked like a whip, slicing his words in half. Duru shut his mouth instantly. But her sudden shift surprised him. He always thought that no matter what Amy did, his mother would always have a soft spot for her but the way she spoke now; her words were like venom.
Silence hovered between them. The wall clock ticked, each second louder than the last.
"Mother," he tried again, softer this time, "you can still live with us until I get some money to rent a place for you all."
She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing, like he had lost his senses.
"What are you talking about? It is critical for you and your wife to have privacy at this point, so you can have a baby as soon as possible."
"Mom, we just got married. Isn't it a bit too much rushing us like this?"
Her brows arched sharply. "Rushing you? Do you want people to think you're sterile? That you're incapable of impregnating a woman—which is why your wife had to cheat?"
The words struck like a slap. Duru's lips pressed into a thin line. He dared not respond. Why were her words so hurtful?
"But Mom…" His voice cracked. "I don't have the money right now to move all of you."
She waved a hand dismissively. "What nonsense are you talking about? What of that useless woman's life insurance? I know you have it. Use it to rent a big place for us to stay."
The guilt that had been gnawing at him since Amy's death flared hot. "Mom, that's… that's inappropriate. That money is the price of my wife's life. Besides I thought you liked Amy"
She leaned forward, voice dripping with scorn. "Are you drunk? Did you forget everything she's done? What wife? Do you know how people look at me when I step out because I had the curse of having her as my daughter-in-law? That money is the price of her life, alright. She committed so much evil in this family. Isn't it right for her life to pay for it? I can't believe you're still calling such a woman your wife."
Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling as if Amy's name itself defiled the room.
Duru swallowed hard. So that was why she was this bitter. It must have been so hard on his mother with what Amy had done. But still the truth was the truth, and nothing can change that "But Mom, she was my wife. She only died. We are still legally married."
A sharp smack landed on his head before he could finish.
"You're better off not letting anybody hear that from your mouth. Silly child!" she hissed. "I have already contacted an agent and seen the house. He'll be contacting you tomorrow to discuss payment."
His eyes widened. "Mom, you already contacted an agent before consulting me?"
"Well," she said coldly, rising from her chair, "I'm consulting you right now."
"Bu—"
But she had already turned and walked away, her wrapper swishing against the tiled floor, leaving him speechless.
His jaw clenched. His fists curled. He wanted to shout, to fight her decisions, but the years of being silenced by her loomed large. He dared not.
How could I use Amy's life insurance for this? The thought alone coiled like barbed wire around his heart.
"Babe, you don't look so well. What's the matter?"
Kaira's soft voice pulled him back. He turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, her lips curled in that teasing smile that melted his mood in seconds. She crossed the room with slow confidence, her perfume trailing behind her. Her hands slid gently around his neck, her lips brushing his before settling on his shoulder.
"I just spoke with Mom," he sighed, "and she wants to move to another house with my sisters."
"Urgh! Finally!" she exclaimed, eyes sparkling.
"You… you knew about this?" He pulled back, surprised.
She gave a sly nod. "Hmm. I spoke to your mom about it. With everyone here, the house feels too small and cramped. Besides, we are newlyweds. We should spend our time together. It isn't proper for your family to live with us."
Her words felt like déjà vu, and for a split second, his breath caught and his chest tightened. Amy's voice echoed in his memory—her gentle protests when they first married, pleading that they should have their own space. His vision blurred slightly, Amy rising in Kaira's face. Without thinking, his hand—almost rebellious—moved a strand of hair from Kaira's eyes. He held her dainty face, his thumb brushing her soft cheek. Slowly, he bent down, lips meeting her plump ones. Her taste lingered; his heart pounded against his ribs with both desire and guilt. "I'll do as you say," he whispered hoarsely against her ear. His lips brushed her skin even as regret burned deep inside him. He lay back onto the sofa, pulling her closer, kissing her deeply. Her laughter was low, pleased, as she fell on him. Their lips met again, tongues tangling, his body drowning in guilt and desire. Then—*Bang!* The door flew open.
"Ahh! My eyes!" Onyinye shrieked, covering her face with her palms. She darted across the living room and up the stairs. "You have your own room, you two! Gosh! Mom, we need to leave this house!"
Her voice trailed off as her bedroom door slammed upstairs.
Kaira collapsed into laughter, resting her forehead against his. He chuckled weakly, but the weight of Onyinye's words lingered like a curse.
Kaira traced a finger across his jawline, her lips curling mischievously. "See? Even your sisters are desperate to give us privacy. Hurry up and get them their own place so we can properly enjoy our lives as a married couple."
She leaned in, whispering the last words against his ear before her tongue flicked across his lobe. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Make sure it's resolved by tomorrow," she added, standing with a feline sway. She blew him a kiss before sauntering out of the room, hips swaying deliberately.
Duru rubbed his temples, staring into the empty space where she had been. Nobody was leaving him a choice. His confidant, Amara, was long gone. Mother had sent her away after the wedding, banned him from contacting her, even changed his phone number. He had no one left to lean on.
His head dropped into his hands. "I am so sorry," he whispered into the silence, hoping the winds would carry his apology to Amy's spirit wherever it was.
MEANWHILE
*Knock. Knock.*
Amy paused mid-sentence, her Spanish textbook falling closed. She fixed her shoes hurriedly, brushing off invisible dust from her blouse, before walking to the door.
"Coming!" she called.
The last few weeks had been relentless—yet exhilarating. Hours spent under Ms. Kim's mentorship had sharpened her in ways she hadn't thought possible. Amy, once surviving day-to-day in grim routine, now brimmed with energy. She had brushed up on her Spanish and French, mastered walking in heels without stumbling, trained herself to type with speed and perfection, even dressing with care she'd never given herself before. It wasn't about money anymore. For the first time, she actually enjoyed herself—learning, expanding, becoming. Each day felt like a rebirth into the woman she might have been if life had dealt her a kinder hand.
She called, rushing toward the double French doors. She flung them open, her face bright.
"Ah, Ms Kim."
Her mentor swept in with her usual briskness, her expression carefully neutral. Despite the cold exterior, Amy had learned the woman was kind underneath, though she hid it fiercely.
"How's your practice going?" Ms Kim asked.
"Very well!" Amy chirped, bouncing on her toes with childlike excitement.
A small, fleeting smile tugged at Ms Kim's lips. Amy's eyes widened.
"Oh! You're smiling!" she teased.
The older woman's face snapped back into its mask of cool indifference. "Are you having any difficulties?"
"Not at all." Amy shook her head eagerly.
Ms Kim moved to the desk, scanning her work with the detached air of a strict examiner. But Amy caught the faint twinkle in her eyes, the one she could never hide when she was pleased.
Then, abruptly, Ms Kim shut the computer, her chair scraping against the floor as she stood.
"Pack your things."
Amy blinked, stunned. "Why? Am I not doing well? Why are you chasing me away?"
Her voice cracked, panic lacing through it.
Ms Kim strode toward the door, silent. Amy hurried after her, heart racing. She caught her mentor's hand, swinging it desperately like a child.
"I still have a lot to learn! I can't just leave!" she pleaded, eyes wide, her voice trembling.
For a brief moment, Ms Kim froze. She looked down at Amy's hand clutching hers, then up at her earnest face. Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, maybe even tenderness—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
"Your training is done," she said firmly. "Mr Ziko will pick you up in thirty minutes. Pack everything. Do not leave a thing behind."
And with that, she pulled her hand free and walked away, leaving Amy rooted to the spot, heart pounding, the world shifting beneath her feet.