A long time ago, there lived a young African man named Joseph Bennett, who had spent all his life in London. He was born into a wealthy family, and his parents sent him to London when he was still a little boy. Since then, he grew up far away from home, in a world of luxury and comfort.
Joseph's family lived in Lagos, Nigeria, where they owned a big company that produced gold. The company was famous all across the country—known even to little children. It was called The Glittering Gold Company, and it was built in Joseph's name. His parents often said the company was their pride and legacy for their only son.
One fateful day, tragedy struck. Joseph's father, mother, and his two sisters were all poisoned. It happened in the same house, on the same day. When the police investigated, they concluded it was food poisoning.
When the news reached Joseph in London, his world fell apart. He cried bitterly, day and night. His whole family—gone. His father, his mother, his two sisters—all dead in a single day. The pain was too heavy for his heart to bear.
Unable to rest, Joseph took the next flight home to Nigeria. But when he arrived, he did not go straight to the family house. Instead, he checked into a hotel, where he locked himself up for days. He wept in secret, asking himself over and over: "Who have they offended? Why did this happen to them? What sin could they have committed to deserve this?" Tears became his companion.
But amid the grief, a fire began to burn within him—a fire of revenge. He swore an oath to himself that he would uncover the truth. He would find out who killed his family, and when he did, he would make them pay—with the same pain, the same death, and the same tears they caused him.
He believed deep inside that the people responsible were not outsiders, but those within The Glittering Gold Company itself. Perhaps it was greed. Perhaps it was betrayal. But he knew—the killers were among the workers or the partners of the business.
To get to them, Joseph made a decision. He would disguise himself as a poor man and work in the company his parents built. Since no one in the company had ever met him—after all, he had lived all his life abroad—it would be the perfect plan. He would hide his true identity, walk among them like one of their own, gain their trust, and one by one, uncover those who destroyed his family.
The next morning, Joseph wore simple, torn clothes. He carried an old bag and held a folder of documents—the kind job seekers usually take when searching for work. With a calm but determined face, he walked towards The Glittering Gold Company, the empire that bore his name, ready to begin his mission.
At the gate, he met one security guard who directed him to the administrative building where new workers were being considered. There were dozens of people waiting outside, each holding their own files. Joseph quietly joined the line, blending in like any other job seeker.
When it was finally his turn, one of the managers flipped through his CV and raised a brow. "Young man," he said slowly, "you seem far too qualified for the kind of work we have left." Joseph kept a humble face. "I'll take any position, sir. I just need to work," he replied.
The man checked the papers again and sighed. "There are only two vacancies—a gate man and a cleaner." Joseph thought deeply for a moment. If he became a gate man, he would only stand outside. He wouldn't be able to see or hear anything happening inside. But as a cleaner, he could move around freely—into offices, halls, and every corner of the building. "I'll take the cleaning job," he replied at last. And that was how the real owner of Glittering Gold Company became one of its cleaners.
The next morning, Joseph woke up before dawn. The city was still dark, but he was already dressed in his new cleaner's uniform—a faded blue shirt with the company's name stitched on the chest. He tucked in his shirt, tied his worn shoes, and stepped out with quiet determination. By the time he reached the company gate, the guards were still yawning. Joseph was the first worker to arrive that day.
The first thing Joseph did was go into the office rooms. He began searching for clues—opening wardrobes, flipping through papers, checking under tables, and looking behind windows. He examined each office one by one, hoping to find something that would make him believe he wasn't wrong in suspecting someone from the company. But he couldn't find any details—no tangible evidence at all. So, he quickly cleaned the offices and put everything in order before the staff began to arrive.
That same day, at the office, the company was having a board meeting. Joseph went, pretending to clean the area just outside the conference room. He could hear the voices inside clearly. They were discussing Bennett's eldest son—Joseph himself. The company was built on his name; his father was controlling it, but since his father was no more, it was high time he came back to take over his company.
After having their discussion, they handled all the responsibilities to the secretary. They asked her to contact him and tell him that his presence was needed at the company, and that he should come back. The secretary nodded, and the meeting was over. Unbeknownst to them, the same person they were all trying to contact was inside the company, and he had heard everything they discussed.
After his shift, before Joseph went home, he went and connected the office cameras to his phone. This way, he would keep a close eye on the company employees and everyone else, even when he wasn't there. After doing that, he left and returned home. He then immediately went into the washroom to freshen up. But when he came out, he saw so many missed calls from the secretary. He contacted her back, and they discussed the company. The secretary told him that some documents needed to be signed by him. She told him that his presence was needed at the company as soon as possible. He replied and told her to tell everyone not to worry—that he would arrive in a few days' time. He ended the call after that.
Joseph knew that those people who wiped away his family would come for him, so, after a few days, he called his best friend Mark, and told him what to do. He asked him to go to the company and pretend to be him. He asked him to take over the company, and he also told him to be careful because the people that killed his family would definitely come for him.
Mark understood all he needed to do, and he walked into the Glittering Gold Company and took the CEO position. He also changed his name to Joseph—Joseph Bennett.
Days passed, and the real Joseph continued to work as a cleaner in the company, quietly watching everyone and everything that happened around him. Meanwhile, his friend Mark—disguised as Joseph Bennett—had taken full control of the company and was recognized by everyone as the new CEO of Glittering Gold.
One evening, an employee brought a cup of coffee to Mark's office. Mark took a few sips, and moments later, his hands began to tremble. His face turned pale, and before anyone could understand what was happening, he started vomiting blood. Panic filled the company. He was immediately rushed to the hospital, where the doctors worked quickly to save his life. After several tense hours, the doctor came out and told them that Mark had been poisoned—but he was lucky to have been brought in on time. That was the only reason he survived.
The police were called to investigate. The woman who had served Mark the coffee was immediately arrested. They took her to the station and began questioning her, using every method they could to make her confess. "Why did you poison him?" one of the officers shouted, striking the table hard. "Tell us the truth!" Tears ran down her face as she shook her head. "I didn't poison him!" she cried. "I only made the coffee. I swear, I didn't add anything to it!" "So if you didn't, who did?" another officer barked, slamming his hand on the desk. But the woman kept crying, repeating that she was innocent.
Meanwhile, Joseph visited Mark in the hospital. Mark looked weak but alive. When he saw Joseph, tears filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, my friend," Joseph said first, his voice breaking. "I didn't mean to put your life in danger. I never thought things would go this far. Please forgive me." Mark squeezed his hand weakly. "Oh, come on, my friend. It's not your fault. We're in this together, remember? Don't blame yourself. Thank God the person who tried to kill me has been caught. The police will deal with her."
But Joseph's face turned serious. "That's the problem," he replied. "The police arrested the wrong person. The woman they're holding didn't poison you." Mark's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean? She's the one who served me the coffee!" Joseph pulled out his phone. "I connected the company's cameras to my phone days ago, and I checked the footage." He opened a video on the screen and showed it to Mark.
The footage clearly showed another woman putting something into the coffee that was served. Her face was covered with a mask, and she moved quickly. Joseph zoomed in on the footage—the mysterious woman was wearing shiny golden earrings that dangled as she moved. "I couldn't see her face," Joseph said, "but these earrings—they looked very familiar to me." Mark stared hard at the screen. "I think I've seen those earrings before," he said slowly. "Someone in the company wears them… but I can't remember who."
Without wasting time, they returned to the company. Mark, though still recovering, summoned all the female employees for an urgent meeting. As they gathered in the conference room, he pretended to address general company issues, but his real reason was to identify the woman with the earrings. Joseph stood quietly at the back, scanning each woman one by one.
Then, his eyes fell on the secretary—the same secretary who had been in charge of contacting "Joseph" days earlier. There, glinting under the fluorescent lights, were the same golden earrings from the CCTV footage. Joseph's heart tightened. The truth hit him like lightning. The secretary—the trusted, soft-spoken woman everyone respected—was the same person who had poisoned Mark.
Mark's eyes locked on her too. For a moment, the room went silent. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound. Joseph took a quiet step forward, his jaw tightening. Mark cleared his throat and forced a calm smile, trying not to draw suspicion. "Alright, ladies," he said slowly, "thank you all for coming on such short notice. That will be all for now." The women began to leave one after another, whispering among themselves. Mark and Joseph didn't say another word as they watched the ladies leave.
That day at home, Mark asked Joseph to call the police and get her arrested. He said she must have had a hand in what happened to his family and suggested they let the police handle the case their own way. But Joseph refused. He said he needed more evidence to be sure that the secretary truly had a hand in what happened to his family—and to find out if she was working alone or with someone else.
To get that evidence, Joseph came up with a plan—he told Mark to get close to her. "Ask her out," Joseph said. "Pretend to be in love with her. That's the only way we can know what she's hiding and who might be helping her." Mark stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious, Joseph? You want me to act like I'm in love with the same woman who tried to kill me?" Joseph nodded firmly. "Yes. It's the only way we'll find the truth."
There was a long moment of silence between them. Mark hesitated—his instincts told him it was dangerous, but Joseph's determination convinced him. After several rounds of arguments, Mark finally agreed to the plan. Before they ended the discussion, Mark looked at Joseph again and asked quietly, "But what if this gives her another chance to hurt me?" Joseph placed a hand on his shoulder. "We need evidence, Mark. Just be careful—please. Don't let her suspect anything."
The next morning at the office, everything looked normal on the surface—but both Mark and Joseph knew that this day would mark the beginning of a dangerous game. Mark arrived earlier than usual, wearing a clean black suit and a calm expression that hid his real intentions. He tried to act natural, greeting employees as he passed, but inside, he felt uneasy. Joseph, on the other hand, kept his distance. He pretended to be busy with cleaning duties, while secretly watching every move from the corners of the corridor, and near Mark's office door.
A few hours later, the secretary—the same woman with the golden earrings—walked into Mark's office with some documents. She smiled politely, unaware of what was coming. "Good morning, sir," she said, placing the files on his desk. Mark looked up and smiled faintly. "Good morning… you're always early," he said smoothly. She chuckled lightly. "It's part of my job." Mark leaned back in his chair. "I've noticed that you've been working really hard lately," he said in a soft tone. "You've been helping me with almost everything—I should probably thank you properly someday."
The secretary blinked in surprise. "Thank me? You don't have to, sir. I'm just doing what I'm paid for." But Mark's words had already done something—she blushed slightly and smiled. "Still," he added, "I think it would be nice if we had lunch together sometime. Just the two of us."
From the corridor, Joseph quietly listened through the half-open door, his heart pounding. He could tell the plan was working. The secretary's tone softened. "I… I don't know, sir," she said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That wouldn't look very professional." Mark chuckled lightly. "Who said it has to look professional? You've done a lot for me lately, and I'd like to know you better. Just lunch—nothing more." She hesitated again, then finally smiled. "Alright, sir. Maybe after work." Mark nodded gently, hiding the unease in his chest. As she turned to leave, Joseph quickly stepped away from the door before she could see him.
When she was gone, Mark sighed deeply and whispered, "She took the bait." Joseph appeared from the side corridor, his face serious. "Good. But remember—don't get too close. We're only after the truth."
Later that evening, Mark drove to an elegant restaurant downtown—the kind of place where soft music played and candlelight glowed on every table. He had reserved a quiet corner in advance, far from curious eyes. Before leaving his house, he had already connected his phone's live camera and mic to Joseph's device. At home, Joseph sat on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen, watching and listening to every word.
When the secretary arrived, she looked surprisingly elegant. Her hair was tied neatly behind her head, and those same golden earrings shimmered faintly under the warm lights. "Wow," Mark said with a gentle smile as she approached. "You look… beautiful tonight." She smiled shyly. "Thank you, sir. You're looking handsome yourself." "Don't call me sir," he replied softly. "Call me Joseph. We're not in the office tonight." She laughed quietly, relaxing a little.
The waiter came and took their orders. They began talking about light things at first—work, the stress of deadlines, and how much the company had changed in recent months. But then, as the meal went on, Mark carefully shifted the topic. He leaned slightly forward and asked, "So… how long have you been working at Glittering Gold?"
The secretary looked up, surprised by the question. "Hmm, not long," she said, twirling her fork slowly. "Just a few months. I joined earlier this year." "Really?" Mark asked, pretending to be casual. "I thought you'd been here much longer. You seem to know everyone so well." Her eyes flickered slightly—a momentary hesitation. "No," she replied quickly. "Just… good at blending in, I guess."
Mark smiled faintly, trying to sound relaxed. "That's interesting. So, what made you choose this company?" The secretary gave a short laugh. "I needed a new start," she said vaguely. "Besides, the pay was good." Mark nodded, pretending not to sense her discomfort. But the more he asked, the more she shifted uneasily in her seat. Her smile started to fade, her fingers tapped lightly against her wine glass.
Finally, she looked at him and said softly, "You're asking a lot of questions tonight, Joseph. It almost feels like an interview." Mark noticed the change in her tone—suspicious, guarded. Quickly, he forced a smile and said, "Oh no, nothing like that. I just want to know you better. You've been helping me so much at work… it only feels right to understand the person behind the help." That seemed to calm her a little. She smiled again, though her eyes still held a trace of caution.
After dinner, Mark insisted on dropping her home. She didn't refuse; instead, she smiled shyly and accepted without hesitation. When they arrived, she unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the handle, but Mark stepped out too. "Let me walk you in," he said with a faint grin. "No, you don't have to. I'll be fine." But Mark insisted gently, pretending to sound casual. "Okay, but can I get a glass of water, I'm really thirsty, please."
Reluctantly, she nodded. "Alright." She unlocked the door and let him in. "Please, sit down," she said, then walked toward the kitchen to get him the water. Mark sat on the couch, pretending to check his phone, but his eyes carefully scanned the apartment. The room was neat, softly lit, and smelled faintly of vanilla.
Then something caught his attention. On the wall, above the television, hung a painting of a woman—beautiful, haunting, and familiar. Joseph, who was watching everything live from his phone at home, froze. His heart started to pound as he zoomed in on the image. That painting wasn't just familiar—it was his. He had commissioned that painting years ago while he was still in London. It was a one-of-a-kind artwork, custom-made for him by a famous artist. He had spent a fortune on it because of how personal it was. There was no duplicate, no second version.
Back then in London, Joseph had given it to his father, asking him to keep it safely in his room. So how was it now hanging here, in the secretary's apartment? His chest tightened. The same crack at the bottom corner of the frame—the one caused during shipping—was still visible. There was no mistake. It was the very same painting.
He quickly called Mark. Mark felt his phone vibrate and quietly answered, lowering his voice. "Joseph, what's wrong?" "Mark, listen to me carefully," Joseph said sharply. "That painting on her wall—it's mine. I bought it years ago in London. There's only one of it in the world, and I left it with my father in Nigeria. It was supposed to be in my room." Mark frowned, his eyes darting back to the painting. "Are you sure?" "One hundred percent sure," Joseph replied, his tone low and urgent. "That means she's connected to my family somehow. Mark. Don't drink that water she's bringing. Leave—right now."
Mark's heartbeat quickened. Without thinking twice, he stood up from the couch, straightened his jacket, and walked quickly toward the door. Within seconds, he stepped outside and shut the door behind him, his face tense. "Good," Joseph said through the phone. "Call her later. Tell her you left because of work—don't make her suspicious." Mark nodded silently, unlocking his car. He got in and started the engine, taking one last glance at the apartment before driving off into the night.
Meanwhile, inside, the secretary walked out of the kitchen holding a glass of water—only to find the living room empty. She froze. Her smile faded instantly. For a long moment, she stood still, her expression darkening. Then, with sudden anger, she threw the glass hard onto the floor. It shattered into pieces, water splashing across her feet. She stared at the broken glass, her voice low and cold as she murmured under her breath, "It seems your luck is always with you, Joseph."
She took her phone and dialed Mark's number. Mark picked up immediately, even though he was still driving. He apologized, saying he didn't get the chance to say goodbye. He explained that he had to leave because of work, and he apologized for not telling her.
When Mark reached Joseph's lodge, he turned to him seriously. "Joseph, I think it's time to call the police and get her arrested. We have enough proof now," Mark said firmly. Joseph's expression darkened. "No, Mark. Going to prison won't be enough," he replied in a low voice. "If she truly has a hand in what happened to my family, then I want her to pay blood for blood."
Mark stared at him, shaken by the coldness in his tone. "You can't stain your hands with blood, Joseph," he replied quietly. "Why am I your friend if I cannot make some decisions for you?"
Without another word, Mark stepped outside. He took a deep breath before calling the cops. He told them everything—from the day Joseph got the news about his family's death, to the secretary's attempt to poison him, and even about the painting hanging on the wall. He sent the police the address to the secretary's apartment and instructed them to arrest her for interrogation. "If you need anything from me," Mark said to the officer on the phone, "don't forget to reach out for me." When he ended the call, Mark slipped his phone back into his pocket and went back inside. Joseph was still sitting there, unaware that Mark had already sent the police to the secretary's apartment.
Days passed, and Joseph noticed that the secretary had not shown up at the office. Her absence began to trouble him deeply. He didn't know that she had already been arrested by the police. He asked several of his colleagues if they had seen or heard from her, but everyone gave the same answer—no one knew where she was. The most painful part was that each time he asked Mark, Mark would simply say, "Maybe she noticed something and ran away. I warned you to get her arrested but you refused! Look at what your actions have done—she has run away now. So, don't disturb me."
Joseph tried to ignore it, but the unease inside him kept growing. That afternoon, he went to Mark's office, hoping to press him for answers. But Mark, who already knew exactly why Joseph had come, pretended to receive a call. He quickly excused himself and walked out, leaving Joseph standing there in confusion. Joseph watched him drive away in his car, anger and frustration burning in his chest. That was when he made up his mind—to do some digging on his own after work. Maybe if he went to the secretary's apartment, he could find her partner or someone who knew where she'd gone.
Meanwhile, Mark had gone to the police station. He met with the officer in charge of the case, and what he learned there left him speechless. It turned out that the secretary was the one responsible for the deaths of Joseph's family. She had poisoned them—and she had also tried to poison Joseph himself. She wanted to erase the entire family, leaving no one alive. When Mark asked the officer why she did it, the policeman shook his head. "She hasn't said anything about the reason she killed them," he replied. "But we'll make her talk soon. She won't be able to hide the truth for long."
That same day after work in the office, Joseph had a nose mask covering half of his face. He went straight to the secretary's apartment, but the gate was locked from outside. He asked a few people nearby and they told him she had been arrested a few days earlier. Joseph immediately rushed home. He found Mark in the living room, sipping wine and typing away on his laptop. Joseph stepped closer and demanded to know if Mark had gotten her arrested.
At first, Mark denied it, but under the pressure in Joseph's voice he had no choice. "Yes—yes, I got her arrested," he admitted. "Why?" Joseph spat. "Why would you get her arrested? Who asked you to do that? What can the police do? Do you think they'll be able to get the truth out of her? No—I'm sure they won't. Do you know how it feels to wake up one morning and learn that your whole family died on the same day? If it were you, how would you feel? Would you just hand the case to some random, stupid policeman and walk away? I wanted this woman to pay. I wanted her to feel the pain I'm going through." He broke off, tears spilling down his face. "So tell me—what have they gotten out of her?"
"Please calm down, Joseph," Mark replied, trying to steady him. "Just calm down. The police have gotten some truth out of her. She's the one who killed your whole family. She also tried to poison you—she wanted every member of your family gone. I'm sorry, Joseph. As much as I want to see her suffer for what she did, I didn't want your hands stained with blood. I didn't want you to end up in big trouble for killing her. That's why I had her arrested. Please—trust the police. They've already pulled the truth from her, and they'll find out why she did it. Please calm down."
Mark was still trying to calm Joseph down when his phone rang. It was a call from the police station—they wanted him to come immediately. Mark assured them he'd be there shortly. Moments later, he and Joseph rushed to the station.
When they arrived, the officer in charge led them into the interrogation room. The secretary sat there, handcuffed, her eyes dark and hollow. The officer began explaining what they had discovered from her confession. Joseph's entire body froze as the words poured out.
His father—the man he had always believed was loyal to his mother—had not been faithful. He had countless mistresses outside their marriage, and the secretary was one of them. The officer revealed that the painting found in her apartment had originally been a gift from his father to the secretary. He used the painting as a flirtatious gesture. Later, he got her pregnant.
When she demanded that he take her in as a second wife, he refused. Instead, he offered her a huge amount of money to abort the pregnancy. But the secretary didn't comply. She took the money, spent it on herself, and still insisted that she would not abort the child—that he must marry her or she would expose their affair. She threatened to go to his wife and tell her everything, including the pregnancy.
Panicked, Joseph's father pleaded with her to calm down and give him more time to explain things to his wife. A few days later, he invited her to a club in Lagos where they usually met in secret. They drank together, and after some time, the secretary began to bleed. She didn't understand what was happening to her. The next thing she knew, she was in the hospital—and her baby was gone.
When she confronted Joseph's father, he coldly admitted the truth. He said that since she refused to do what he wanted, he couldn't allow her to destroy his family. So he added a substance to her drink. Then, to silence her, he handed her a large sum of money and told her to forget everything that had happened and move on with her life.
"Move on?" she repeated. "You killed my baby—you ended my pregnancy without my permission—and you want me to move on?" She left the hospital without another word. But at home, she began bleeding again. She collapsed and was rushed back to the hospital. This time, the doctors gave her the news that shattered her world—the substance in her system had damaged her womb permanently. She would never be able to carry a child again.
That was the moment she decided to take revenge. In her pain and fury, she found the family's house cook and bribed her with a large sum of money to poison Joseph's family. The cook agreed and carried out the plan, poisoning every member of the household. When she returned to report that the deed was done, the secretary killed her too—eliminating every trace of evidence.
Joseph's hands trembled as he listened. Fury consumed him. Before he knew it, he lunged at the secretary, trying to strangle her, but the police quickly pulled him away.
The investigators confirmed every word she said. They went to the hospital where she had been treated months ago and found all the records and medical proof. Everything matched her confession. It was true. Joseph's father had poisoned her drink—and in doing so, had destroyed her womb forever. That single act of cruelty had turned her into a monster, and that was why she wiped out his entire family.
After the police verified every piece of evidence—from the hospital reports to the toxicology findings—the case was transferred to the High Court. The secretary was charged with multiple counts of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and attempted murder, for trying to kill Mark as well.
During the trial, she stood before the judge with empty eyes, showing neither remorse nor emotion. The evidence was overwhelming—the poisoned meals, the cook's death, her attempt on Mark's life, and her own written confession. The law took its course, and the judge pronounced her guilty. She was sentenced to life imprisonment, to spend the rest of her days behind bars.
When the verdict was announced, Joseph stood still, tears quietly streaming down his face. The woman who had destroyed his family was finally facing the consequences—but the victory felt hollow. No punishment could bring back the lives he had lost.
Mark placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "It's over now," he said softly. "Let them handle the rest." Joseph nodded. For the first time in months, he felt the weight on his chest begin to ease—just a little.
A few weeks after the trial, Joseph organized a proper burial for his family. He made sure every detail was perfect—their graves surrounded by white roses, his mother's favorite flower. As the priest finished the final prayers, Joseph stood before their resting place and whispered, "I wish you all fine peace over there." Mark stood quietly beside him, his expression unreadable.
In the months that followed, Joseph returned to the company—the empire his father had built. After the board's approval, he officially took his rightful place as the new CEO. He handled the company with renewed strength and wisdom, determined to honor his family's name.
Before leaving the office one evening, Joseph turned to Mark and said, "Thank you, Mark. For everything. I couldn't have done any of this without you." Mark gave him a faint smile. "Your family is like my family too. I can't believe you're thanking me for helping out." Joseph pulled him into a tight hug. "If everyone had a friend like you, they'd have nothing to worry about." They both smiled at each other.
That night, Joseph drove to their family house. The city lights blurred past his window like ghosts of memories. For the first time, he didn't feel anger—just quiet peace, and the soft echo of his family's laughter somewhere in his heart. Justice had finally been served. And though his world would never be the same again, Joseph had learned that no matter how deep the pain runs, it's always better to let the law take its course than to stain your hands with revenge: