AGAINST ALL ODDS
By Lawrence Ojiambo
Dedication
For all who believe that love is stronger than every storm.
For the dreamers who fight, the lovers who endure, and
the souls who turn every odd into even
Prologue
The room was dark, filled with the smell of blood and smoke.
Jack lay bound, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
Through swollen lips, he whispered a single name:
"Jane…"
Somewhere in the night, she was out there—waiting, suffering, hoping.
And even as pain tore through him, one truth burned in his heart: no chain, no wound, no
enemy could keep him from her.
Their love was a fire, and he would carry it against all odds.
TABLE OF CONTENTS – Against All Odds
1. Chapter One – The Bond of Two Worlds
2. Chapter Two – Secrets and Shadows
3. Chapter Three – Forbidden Bonds
4. Chapter Four – Into the Darkness
5. Chapter Five – Secrets Unveiled
6. Chapter Six – A Dangerous Game
7. Chapter Seven – Flight from the Cage
8. Chapter Eight – Betrayal Exposed
9. Chapter Nine – A Price for Love
10. Chapter Ten – Lines of Loyalty
11. Chapter Eleven – A Mother's Last Gift
12. Chapter Twelve – Walls Between Hearts
13. Chapter Thirteen – Chains of Choice
14. Chapter Fourteen – The Shattered Ceremony
15. Chapter Fifteen – Truths That Burn
16. Chapter Sixteen – Ashes of Wealth
17. Chapter Seventeen – Storm at Buyukha
18. Chapter Eighteen – Fire and Resolve
19. Chapter Nineteen – Shadows of Betrayal
20. Chapter Twenty – The Trap
21. Chapter Twenty-One – The Pursuit
22. Chapter Twenty-Two – Captive Heart
23. Chapter Twenty-Three – The Final Showdown
24. Chapter Twenty-Four – Breaking Chains
25. Chapter Twenty-Five – Ever After
Chapter One
The bond of two Worlds
In the heart of a town filled with beautiful sights and magnificent buildings lived two
inseparable souls: Jane and Jack.
Theirs was a friendship so deep that nothing seemed able to break it. Together they roamed the
town, their laughter echoing through streets and fields. On this particular day, they stood at the
peak of Mount Kenya, gazing out over the land they both cherished, recalling the adventures of
their childhood.
Jack came from a humble background. His clothes were often worn, and his feet had known the
weight of long journeys. Yet his spirit was rich, and his loyalty to Jane unshakable. He would
walk nearly three hundred kilometers just to see her. Jane, on the other hand, belonged to a
wealthy family. Whenever it was her turn to visit Jack, she rode her white horse, a gift from her
father, Patrick, on her fourteenth birthday.
Her parents disapproved of her friendship with Jack. They could not understand why their
daughter would spend her time with a boy who had so little. But Jane cared nothing for their
scorn. She cherished Jack's company more than the riches her family surrounded her with.
As they stood on the mountain, their minds wandered back to their childhood games. They
remembered afternoons under the apple tree, when Jack would climb high among the branches
while Jane kept watch below.
"Hey Jane, how many apples should I gather for you today?" Jack would tease.
"You know I love eating," she would laugh back. "So pick as many as you can—just make sure
I'm satisfied!"
But the apple tree was not theirs, and they knew the risks. One afternoon, as Jack reached for
the highest fruit, Jane spotted a shadow approaching. She whispered urgently, "Jack!
Someone's coming—it must be Fred, the owner of the garden!
Jack froze, then scrambled down. "We've got to run!" Jane urged. But in his haste, Jack's shirt
caught on the trunk. Panic flashed in his eyes. "Oh no! We're finished—today's our unlucky
day!"
Jane's heart pounded, but instead of fleeing, she grabbed a knife lying nearby, climbed the tree,
and cut him free.
"We promised each other never to run from our problems," she whispered, tears glistening in
her eyes. "I won't leave you here."
Together, they escaped unnoticed, their laughter returning once the danger had passed.
Later, as they sat in their secret hiding place, Jack's smile faded. Thoughts of his mother
weighed heavily on him. What if we had been caught? What would I have told her? How would have explained?
The questions tormented him, but Jane's presence was his comfort. Though their worlds were
different, they found in each other a bond stronger than wealth or poverty—a friendship
destined to face trials greater than either of them could yet imagine.--
When the time came to part, Jack faced the long three-hundred-kilometer walk back to his
village of Buyukha. Jane often pitied him for the journey and would sometimes give him a ride
on her horse.
On the way, she spoke of her family's disapproval. "My father hates seeing me with you," she
said bitterly. Then, imitating his stern voice, she added, "I don't want to see you near that poor
boy again. He's a nobody. Find friends of your class!"
Jane sighed. "But my mother always defends me. She believes I should be free to choose my
own friends."Jack listened quietly. Deep down, he longed for the day he would have enough
money to silence such insults. At night he often lay awake, thinking of ways to change his
destiny. He remembered the words of his late father, wisdom passed down before he died:
"My son, this world is full of odds and evens. To reach the evens, you must pass through the
odds. When you face many odds, strive to turn them into evens."
The words puzzled Jack for years, yet they stayed with him.
Life with his mother, Teresa, was simple but demanding. On weekends, Jack helped her in the
garden and fetched firewood from Ruiru Forest, a place both feared and treasured. His father
had taught him hunting before he passed, and Jack grew into a skilled hunter. He laid traps,
provided meat, and became his mother's greatest source of strength.
One Friday evening, Jack invited Jane to dinner. He wanted to surprise her with the finest
antelope meat. Setting traps in the forest, he waited hopefully. But fate had other plans. Out of
the shadows emerged a lion, stalking closer. Jack's heart raced. In his terror, he imagined
himself in heaven, speaking to the angel Gabriel.
"Here, your actions matter more than words," the angel told him.
"How will I know if mine were good?" Jack asked.
But before he could hear the answer, a firm hand shook him back to reality. It was his neighbor,
Max. Behind him lay the lifeless body of the lion—killed just in time.
"You're lucky, brother," Max said, grinning. "Let's go check your traps."
Together they dragged home a great antelope, enough for a feast. That weekend, Jack proudly
prepared the meat for Jane's visit.
Meanwhile, at her mansion, Jane faced a new battle. Her father's opposition to her friendship
with Jack grew harsher each day. Patrick, a stern and principled man, gave no room for
disobedience."Is it wrong to be friends with someone less fortunate?" Jane asked her mother
one evening.
Tesy, her gentle mother, stroked her daughter's hair. "No, my dear. They are human too, and
they deserve respect. But you know your father—he never listens."When it became clear noone in her family would help her, Jane turned to the only person she trusted: Anne, their
housemaid.
"I must see Jack," Jane pleaded. "But the guards will never let me out. Please, help me."The two devised a plan. But fate would soon intervene in ways neither of them could foresee…
Chapter Two
Secrets and Shadows
That weekend, just as Jack waited eagerly for Jane, things at the mansion took a sudden turn.
Jane fell mysteriously ill before she could sneak out. Her father, Patrick, rushed home,
summoning the family doctor.
The household gathered around Jane's bed—her twin sister, Shalom, at the front of the crowd.
Shalom appeared deeply concerned, but Jane knew better. Shalom had always been her
father's favorite, clever and cunning, often reporting Jane's every move. Behind her sweet
facade lay envy, sharp as a blade.
Dr. Joel examined Jane carefully. "It's nothing too serious for now," he said slowly, "but if
untreated, it could become dangerous. Early signs of kidney failure ."Patrick's stern face
hardened. He dismissed the doctor with a nod, but inside, unease gnawed at him.
Hours later, Jane regained consciousness. Her body ached, but her greater pain was failing Jack.
She had promised him, and promises meant everything. With trembling hands, she wrote him a
letter and pressed it into Anne's hands.
"Please," she whispered. "Take this to him. You're the only one I trust."Anne mounted Janes's
horse and galloped away under the setting sun. But Shalom, ever watchful, bribed a guard to
follow.
At Jack's humble home, Anne found him weeping silently. He blamed himself for his poverty,
cursing the fate that made him unworthy of Jane. When he opened the door, his eyes were red.
Anne handed him the folded letter without a word.Jack unfolded it slowly, fear gripping him.
My dear friend Jack,
I know you are angry with me for not coming as promised .
Please forgive me. It was not intentional.
My father would never allow me to leave without his consent.
I tried my best, but circumstances betrayed me.
You mean more to me than words can express.
Please don't doubt my heart. When we meet,
I'll explain everything.
Yours forever,
Jane Tesy
Jack's fury melted as he read her words. He regretted destroying the meat he had prepared, but
the letter rekindled his hope. That night, though restless, he vowed: No matter what, I will see
Jane again.
Back at the mansion, however, Anne's loyalty nearly cost her everything. Shalom twisted the
truth, blaming Anne for Jane's secret letter. Patrick's anger thundered through the halls."You're
fired!" he roared, ignoring Anne's pleas.Jane, hearing the commotion, stumbled down the
stairs. "Father, stop! Anne is my friend—my only friend!" she cried.
But Patrick's face was stone. It was only when Jane collapsed in exhaustion that his heart
softened. Reluctantly, he allowed Anne to stay by her daughter's side.Yet Shalom's silent smile
in the shadows told Jane all she needed to know—the real battle had only just begun.
Chapter Three
Forbidden Bonds
Days passed, and Jane's strength slowly returned. But her heart was restless. She longed to see
Jack, to feel his presence again. One evening after school, she could bear it no longer. Ignoring
the unspoken rules of her father's house, she rode her white horse across the fields to Jack's
home.
Jack was tending the cows when he saw her. His face lit up with joy. He ran to her, lifted her
down, and held her tightly. For a moment, time itself stood still.
Jane was strikingly beautiful, her figure graceful, her laughter like music. Jack often caught
himself staring at her, lost in thoughts he dared not speak aloud. That day, they spent hours
together, talking, laughing, and sharing the silence only true friends could understand.As the
sun dipped low, Jane noticed his gaze lingering.
"Why are you staring at me ?" she asked softly.
Jack smiled, shaking his head. "Why do you think?"
They both laughed, though beneath the laughter stirred something deeper than friendship.
When it was time to leave, Jane kissed his forehead gently and handed him a folded note.
That night, Jack opened it by candlelight. Inside was a song she had written for him:
*In the dark of night, the stars light up the sky.
We see them flying free—just like you and I.
Everyone is lonely sometimes,
But I would walk a thousand miles to see your eyes.
You are not alone—we are family.
Hold me close, let's escape this reality.
You are my symphony,
And by your side, we are unit
Jack's heart swelled as he read the song. Never before had words touched him so deeply. That
night, he slept peacefully, dreaming of a future where he and Jane would never have to hide.
But fate was cruel.
In the stillness of midnight, a heavy knock rattled Jack's door. Ndo! Ndo! Before he could rise,
the door burst open. Rough hands seized him, kicking him so hard he felt his ribs crack. His
mother, Teresa, already lay unconscious on the floor, struck down by their attackers.
Jack was dragged out into the darkness. The night that had begun with dreams of love turned
into a nightmare.
The kidnappers shoved him into a truck and drove to an abandoned, half-built structure. The
walls were bare, the air thick with the stench of bats. He was tied up, suspended from the
ceiling like prey. His body ached, his mind spinning. What have I done to deserve this? he
thought bitterly.
At school the next morning, Jane searched for him anxiously. Jack never missed class. Her worry
grew heavier with each hour.
"Looking for that good-for-nothing boy?" Shalom mocked. "You'd be better off without him.
Focus on your books and leave paupers behind."
Jane turned away, refusing to dignify her sister's cruelty with an answer. Yet inside, her heart
trembled. She could feel it—something terrible had happened.
By evening, her fears were undeniable. Jack was missing, and no one could tell her where he had gone.
Chapter Four
Into the Shadows
The abandoned building reeked of damp cement and dust. Jack hung from a beam, wrists tied,
his body throbbing from the beating. Every sound in the darkness set his heart racing—the
scuttle of bats, the creak of ropes, the low whispers of men outside.
He tried to stay awake, but pain dragged him toward unconsciousness. His last thought before
slipping into darkness was of Jane.
If only I could see her once more…
At school, Jane grew increasingly restless. Two days had passed, and still no sign of Jack. She
asked his classmates, his neighbors—no one knew. Her father noticed her distraction and grew
furious.
"Jane!" Patrick's voice boomed across the dining hall one evening. "Your grades are dropping.
Enough of this foolishness. No more talk of that boy!"
Jane bit her lip, holding back tears. Her mother, Tesy, gave her a quiet, sympathetic glance but
said nothing. Patrick's word was law.
That night, Jane wept alone in her room. She replayed every moment she had shared with
Jack—the apple tree, the songs, his laughter. Now he was gone, and she didn't know if he was
alive.
Where are you, Jack? she whispered into the darkness.
Meanwhile, in the forest near the kidnappers' hideout, the men celebrated. Money had
exchanged hands. Shalom's name was whispered among them.
One of the kidnappers, drunk on beer and pride, muttered, "Orders are clear. We finish him
tomorrow night."
Another, more hesitant, left Jack with a small mercy—a knife hidden loosely by his side. Perhaps
it was pity. Perhaps boredom. Either way, hope flickered in Jack's chest.Bleeding, weak, but
determined, he worked at the ropes. Slowly, painfully, he cut himself free. By dawn, he slipped
through a crack in the broken wall, stumbling into the night.
Every step was agony, but the thought of Jane pushed him forward.
Back at the mansion, Jane's instincts screamed louder each day. She was certain her father
knew more than he admitted. Determined to uncover the truth, she made a daring decision—
she would sneak into his study and search his laptop.
If Jack was still alive, she would find him.
And if her own family was behind it… she would face the truth, no matter how bitter.
Chapter Five
Secrets Unveiled
The mansion was silent. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting silver shadows
along the corridors. Jane crept barefoot toward her father's study, her heartbeat thundering in
her ears.
Patrick was a man of strict order. His desk was always immaculate, his laptop locked with the
strongest passwords. Yet Jane was desperate. If Jack's disappearance had anything to do with
him, the answers would be here.
She slipped inside, holding her breath. The air smelled of leather and cigar smoke. On the desk
sat the laptop, its black surface gleaming in the moonlight.
Jane hesitated. She wasn't a hacker, but she wasn't alone. Outside, waiting in the shadows of
the garden, was Ben, a skilled IT student she had secretly hired. If anyone could break through
her father's defenses, it was him.
Quietly, she carried the laptop out through the servant's entrance, where Ben waited with his
small backpack of tools.
"You've got thirty minutes," Jane whispered. "I must return it before dawn."
Ben's fingers flew across the keyboard. Lines of code scrolled, passwords cracked. Finally, a
folder appeared—messages, transactions, and names. Jane leaned closer, her breath catching
as she read.
Her father had arranged a meeting with men whose descriptions matched the kidnappers. The
payment was clear. Jack's abduction had not been random—it had been ordered.
Jane's stomach twisted. Betrayal stung like fire.
"You need to get this back now," Ben urged, handing her the laptop. "If he finds out, you're
finished."
Jane slipped back into the mansion, every step heavy with dread. As she crept past the study,
she heard footsteps. Patrick. Her heart nearly stopped. She ducked behind a chair, clutching the
laptop to her chest.
His shadow passed within inches of her hiding spot. For ten endless minutes, she didn't breathe.
Finally, he moved away, and Jane returned the laptop to his desk, arranging everything exactly
as it had been
Back in her room, she pressed her face into her pillow, shaking. Tears burned her eyes, but
beneath the fear, determination hardened.
If my father is behind this, then I will stop him. I will find Jack, whatever it takes.
Chapter Six
A Dangerous Game
The next morning, Jane woke before dawn. Sleep had been impossible after what she had
discovered on her father's laptop. Her mind raced with questions. Why would Patrick—her own
father—want Jack kidnapped? Was it simply because of his poverty, or was there something
more sinister at play?
She dressed quickly and left the mansion under the pretense of going to school. But instead of
taking the family driver, she hailed a taxi and changed into plain clothes she had hidden in her
bag. Today, she would follow her father.
By midmorning, Patrick's black Range Rover rolled out of the estate gates. Jane and a few
trusted school friends, already waiting nearby, followed at a distance. The vehicle wound
through dusty backroads until it stopped at a half-built structure on the edge of town.
Jane's heart sank. It was the same kind of abandoned building she had seen in her father's files.
Patrick stepped inside with two men. After a moment of hesitation, Jane and her friends crept
in through a side entrance. The air was damp and foul. Broken beams jutted like bones, and the
smell of alcohol and cigarettes clung to the walls.
But the building was empty. No Jack. No prisoners. Only scattered bottles and rope cut roughly
at the ends.
"Something's wrong," Jane whispered.
Before they could retreat, shouts rang out. Police officers swarmed the building, blocking every
exit. At the front stood Inspector Parmuat—and beside him, smiling slyly, was Shalom.
"It's a trap," Jane gasped.
The officers searched the building and claimed to have found bags of cocaine stashed in the
corner. Jane's protests fell on deaf ears. She and her friends were arrested on charges of drug
trafficking.
At the station, Patrick arrived, fury in his eyes. To the world, he played the role of the shocked
father, but Jane could see the cold satisfaction hidden behind his glare.
She was released the next day on a heavy bond, but the damage was done. Her reputation was
stained, her father's power loomed larger than ever, and Jack's fate remained unknown. Back in
her room, Jane clutched her pillow, whispering through tears: Hold on, Jack. I will find you. Even if it costs me everything.
Chapter Seven
Flight from the Cage
The kidnappers' hideout pulsed with drunken laughter and the clinking of bottles. Jack, bruised
and bleeding, sat slumped against the wall, his wrists raw from the ropes that had bound him.
The small knife slipped to him earlier now lay hidden in his palm, its handle slick with sweat.
He worked at the knots slowly, praying no one noticed. Every tug sent pain shooting through his
arms, but finally the rope gave way. He was free—though weak, and far from safe.
One of the kidnappers stumbled toward him. Jack froze. But instead of checking the ropes, the
man tossed an empty bottle aside and staggered back to his comrades. The noise of their
revelry drowned out all else.
This was his chance.
Jack slipped through a broken window into the night. The cold air bit at his wounds, but he
ran—stumbling, falling, rising again. Each breath was a battle, but in his heart burned a single
thought: I must live. For Jane.
The forest loomed ahead. Branches tore at his skin as he pushed through, blood smearing
across bark and leaves. Behind him, angry shouts erupted. The kidnappers had discovered his
escape.
"Find him! Kill him on sight!" their leader bellowed.
Jack's vision blurred. His legs faltered. Just as he reached the edge of a dirt road, headlights
blinded him. He collapsed in front of an approaching car.
The driver, a sharp-eyed businesswoman named Laura, slammed the brakes and leapt out.
"My God!" she gasped, seeing the battered young man on the ground. Without hesitation, she
hauled him into the backseat. Gunshots cracked in the distance as the kidnappers gave chase.
Laura sped off, tires screaming against the gravel.
Bullets pinged against the metal frame, but luck—and Laura's courage—carried them through.
She dialed the police as she swerved onto the main highway. Sirens soon wailed behind them,
cutting off the pursuers' path.
By the time they reached Laura's gated home, Jack was barely conscious. His body trembled, his
breaths shallow. She called for her private doctor, who rushed to stabilize him.Safe at last, Jack
drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.Back at the mansion, Jane paced her room, restless and
consumed by fear. She did not know it yet, but the boy she loved had survived the impossible—and their fates were hurtling back toward each other.
Chapter Eight
Betrayal Exposed
Morning sunlight streamed into the mansion's dining hall, but the atmosphere was heavy. Jane
barely touched her breakfast, her thoughts chained to Jack. Across from her, Shalom wore a
satisfied smile, sipping tea as though nothing in the world troubled her.
A sudden knock shook the house. Bang! Bang!
Jane hurried to the door. Standing outside was Inspector Parmuat, flanked by officers. Her heart
lurched—had they come for her again?
"May I come in?" the inspector asked politely.
Jane stepped aside. Patrick appeared almost instantly, his presence towering, his voice clipped.
"What brings you here, Inspector?"
Parmuat's gaze swept across the room until it landed on Shalom. His voice was steady, but the
words were sharp as knives.
"Shalom Tesy, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Jackson Teresa. You have the right to
remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Jane gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Shalom's face went pale. She stammered, "W-what? This is ridiculous!"
But the inspector's men were already stepping forward with handcuffs.
Jane's knees buckled. "You… you did this to him?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears
welled in her eyes as the truth struck like a hammer.
"I never knew you hated me this much," Jane cried, turning to her twin. "But today… today
you've shown me your true colors."
Tesy, their mother, rushed to Jane's side, trying to soothe her sobs. Patrick, however, erupted in
fury, blocking the officers. "You will not take my daughter!" he thundered.
But law is law. After a tense struggle, Shalom was dragged from the mansion, her shrieks
echoing through the grand halls.
Overwhelmed, Jane collapsed into her mother's arms. Doctors were called, and she was rushed
to Kenyatta Hospital. The headlines blazed across newspapers and television that very day:
TYCOON'S DAUGHTER COLLAPSES AS TWIN SISTER ARRESTED FOR KIDNAPPING.
In her hospital bed, Jane's strength waned. Doctors ran tests and delivered grim news—her
single kidney was failing fast. She needed a transplant within days, or she would not survive.
As her family reeled from the revelation, one truth cut deeper than all others: the girl who had
once saved her twin's life was now dying because of her.
Chapter Nine
A Price for Love
The sterile smell of Kenyatta Hospital filled the air. Machines beeped softly around Jane's bed,
her face pale against the white sheets. Doctors spoke in hushed tones near the door, their
words sharp as blades: one kidney, failing fast… time is running out.
Tesy wept silently at her daughter's side, while Patrick paced the corridor like a caged lion. For
once, the iron man looked helpless. Every attempt to find a matching donor had failed.
Then the doors swung open.
Jack stepped inside, his body weak but his eyes burning with resolve. Behind him stood Laura,
steady as a shadow, and Dr. Joel, the family physician.
Jane's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. "Jack?" she
whispered, her voice fragile.
He rushed to her side, taking her hand. "I'm here, Jane. I'm not leaving again."
Patrick stiffened. His jaw clenched, his pride bristling at the sight of the poor boy who had
somehow survived. But before he could speak, Jack turned to him.
"I'll give her my kidney," Jack said firmly. "On one condition—when she recovers, she becomes
my wife."
The room froze. Tesy gasped. Even the doctors exchanged uneasy glances. Patrick's face
darkened with rage, but the weight of desperation pressed him down. He had no choice.
Finally, through gritted teeth, he muttered, "Agreed."
The surgery began at dawn. Jack lay on one table, Jane on another, their futures tied by blood
and sacrifice. Laura held Jack's hand until the anesthesia pulled him under.
Three hours later, the doctors emerged with weary smiles. "The operation was successful," Dr.
Joel announced. Relief swept through the family.
In the recovery ward, Jane stirred first. Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears when she saw
Jack resting in the bed beside hers. A long scar marked his side, a permanent reminder of his
love.She reached out weakly, whispering, "You gave me life again."
Jack smiled faintly. "I only gave you what was already yours."
For the first time in weeks, Jane slept peacefully, dreaming not of sorrow but of hope.
Chapter Ten
Lines of Loyalty
The hospital ward was calm, but beneath the silence lay unspoken storms. Jack was still weak
from surgery, though the scar across his side gave him more pride than pain. Jane, slowly
recovering, found comfort in knowing the man she loved had saved her life.
But Patrick's mind was restless. To him, Jack was not a hero—he was a threat. The promise of
marriage had been forced from his lips under pressure, and every fiber of his being resisted the
idea of giving his daughter to a boy he deemed beneath her.
Laura, meanwhile, visited daily. She brought Jack fresh fruit, clean clothes, and stories that
made him laugh when the pain grew too sharp. Her kindness was genuine, yet there was
something in her eyes that lingered a moment too long whenever she looked at him.
"You should be resting, not worrying," she told him one afternoon, adjusting his blanket.
"You've done more than enough for Jane."
Jack smiled weakly. "I'd do it again. A thousand times, if I had to."
Jane, from her bed across the room, overheard every word. Though she trusted Laura, a flicker
of unease sparked in her heart.
Three weeks later, Jack was discharged from the hospital. He expected to return to Jane's side
immediately, but when he asked after her, he found her bed empty. The family had taken her
home quietly, without a word to him.
Confused, Jack turned to Laura. "Why didn't they wait for me? Why didn't they tell me?"
Laura hesitated, then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Because your place isn't in their
world, Jack. Not yet. Come with me. You need time to heal."
She drove him to her sprawling estate, a mansion that rivaled Jane's family home in grandeur.
Jack, though humbled by her generosity, couldn't shake the feeling of being kept away from the
one person who needed him most.
At night, he stared out the window, whispering to the stars: Jane, wherever you are, I will find
you.
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Jane argued with her father.
"You promised!" she cried, her voice cracking. "You said when I recovered, I could marry Jack!"
Patrick's expression was cold. "That was in the hospital. I'll not bind my daughter to a pauper.
Forget him, Jane. Your future lies elsewhere."
Her heart sank, but her spirit did not break. For Jane knew something her father did not—love
built on sacrifice cannot be silenced by wealth or pride.
And no matter what it cost her, she would not let Jack slip away.
Chapter Eleven
A Mother's Last Gift
Days passed at Laura's mansion. Jack healed slowly, though his heart remained restless. Each
night, he thought of his mother, Teresa, and how much she had sacrificed for him. She had
been his anchor, his guiding star. Yet he had not seen her since before the surgery.
One evening, as he sat on the balcony, Laura entered quietly. In her hands, she carried a folded
envelope, the edges worn from careful keeping. Her face was heavy with sorrow.
"Jack," she said softly, "there's something you must know."
He took the letter with trembling hands, his chest tightening even before he read the first line.
My dear son Jack,
By the time you read this, I will no longer be with you.
I know it will break your heart, but I chose this path.
You were meant to live, to love, to dream—and I could not bear to see your chance taken away. My body
was failing, my heart weak, but my kidneys were still strong. So I gave what I could to the girl you love,
because I knew she would carry part of me within her.
Do not cry for me, my son. Do not curse fate. This world is full of odds and evens—remember what your
father told you. Turn every odd into an even.
Live bravely, Jack. Love fully. And whenever you see Jane smile, know that a piece of me smiles with her.
With endless love,
Your mother, Teresa
The words blurred as tears spilled down Jack's cheeks. He clutched the letter to his chest, his
body shaking with grief.
"My mother… she gave her life… for us," he whispered.
Laura knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his trembling shoulders. "She loved you
enough to make the ultimate sacrifice. Don't let that sacrifice go in vain."
But for Jack, the pain was overwhelming. The realization that his mother's life had been
exchanged for Jane's tore through him like a blade.
That night, as he lay in bed, grief and love warred inside him. His mother's last words echoed:
Turn every odd into an even.
He swore then that he would. For Teresa. For Jane. For the life his mother had given up so he
Could live.
Chapter Twelve
Walls Between Hearts
Jack could no longer stay away. Teresa's letter had carved a vow deep into his heart—he would
honor his mother's sacrifice by standing beside Jane, no matter the cost.
One misty morning, he left Laura's estate and made his way to the Tesy mansion. The journey
felt heavier than any distance he had walked before, his body still aching but his spirit
unyielding.
At the tall iron gates, he was met not with welcome but with hostility. Newly hired guards,
former soldiers with hard eyes and stricter orders, blocked his way.
"I need to see Jane," Jack said, his voice steady.
The chief guard sneered. "Orders are clear. You're not allowed past this gate. Leave, or we'll
make you leave."
Jack's fists clenched at his sides. From within the compound, he could hear faint laughter—
voices of wealth and ease, voices that had never known hunger. And in the distance, he thought
he glimpsed Jane's figure near the balcony, though too far to be certain.
"Tell her I was here," he pleaded. "Tell her Jack came for her."
The guards laughed, unmoved. The gates shut harder, leaving him outside with nothing but his
own shadow.
Inside, Jane sat by her window, restless. She thought she had heard his voice, faint but
unmistakable. She pressed her palms against the glass, whispering, Jack…
But when she ran downstairs to check, her father stopped her.
"You will not see him again," Patrick declared. His tone left no room for argument. "I've given
my word—your future lies with Jayma's family. That boy is nothing."
Jane's eyes filled with tears, but she lifted her chin. "He is not nothing. He is everything. And
one day, you'll see that your wealth cannot erase love."
Patrick's face hardened, but deep inside, for the first time, doubt flickered in his heart.
That evening, Laura found Jack sitting on a wooden bench near her garden, his face buried in his
hands.
"They wouldn't let me in," he said hoarsely. "Not even a word… not even a glimpse."
Laura sat beside him, her voice gentle. "Then maybe it's time to fight smarter, Jack. Not with
fists, but with patience, strength, and the future your mother believed in."
Jack nodded slowly, his grief shaping itself into resolve. The odds still surrounded him, but he
would turn them—one by one—into evens
Chapter Thirteen
Chains of Choice
The Tesy mansion buzzed with unusual activity. Seamstresses, decorators, and planners moved
in and out, whispering about preparations. But to Jane, every stitch and every ribbon felt like
the tightening of a noose.
Her father had made his decision. She was to marry Jayma, the son of a wealthy politician
whose empire matched Patrick's ambition. The arrangement promised power, security, and
prestige—everything Patrick valued. Everything Jane despised.
"I will not marry him," she told her mother one evening, her voice trembling but firm. "My
heart belongs to Jack."
Tesy's eyes softened with pity. She brushed Jane's hair gently, whispering, "I know, my child.
But your father's will is iron. I cannot change him."
"Then I'll change fate myself," Jane said, tears brimming. "Even if I must run away. "Meanwhile,
Shalom sat in her room, bitterness boiling inside her. Though she had been released on bail, her
reputation was shattered. Everywhere she went, whispers followed: kidnapper, traitor, snake.
Watching Jane still command sympathy, still hold Jack's heart, burned like fire.
"If I can't have peace," she hissed into the mirror, "neither will she."
That night, Shalom crept into Patrick's study. There, she found the guest list for the engagement
ceremony. Smiling wickedly, she scribbled notes of her own—plans to ensure Jane's humiliation
before the world.
At Laura's mansion, Jack trained his body back to strength. Each day he ran farther, lifted
heavier, sharpened his hunting skills. But his mind was consumed by Jane.
When Laura brought him news of the planned engagement, his heart nearly stopped.
"They can't do this," he whispered. "She promised me—her heart is mine."
Laura touched his arm, her gaze lingering. "Maybe it's time to let her go, Jack. You've suffered
enough. You deserve a life without chains."
But Jack shook his head, fire in his eyes. "No. My mother gave her life for us. I won't let her
sacrifice be buried under lies. Jane and I belong together."
On the eve of the engagement, Jane stood before her mirror in a gown of silk and jewels. To
others, she looked like a princess. To herself, she looked like a prisoner.
As the drums began to sound outside, she whispered to her reflection, Jack… find me before it's o late
Chapter Fourteen
The Shattered Ceremony
The Tesy estate was ablaze with celebration. Golden lanterns lined the driveway, and a canopy
stretched across the garden, glittering with chandeliers. Guests in fine suits and dazzling gowns
sipped champagne as the sound of drums and violins filled the night air.
At the center of it all stood Jane, dressed in a flowing white gown that shimmered under the
lights. To the crowd, she looked radiant—a bride-to-be glowing with happiness. But behind her
calm smile, her heart beat like a trapped bird.
Beside her, Jayma beamed, basking in the praise of politicians and businessmen. His arm rested
possessively at her back, as though she were already his. Jane felt sick with every touch.
Patrick moved among the guests with pride, shaking hands, promising alliances. Everything was
falling into place—until it wasn't.
From the back of the crowd, a commotion began. People murmured, heads turning toward the
gates. The guards struggled to hold back a figure forcing his way in. It was Jack.
Dust still clung to his clothes, sweat streaked his face, but his eyes blazed with fire. "Jane!" he
shouted, his voice rising above the music. "Jane, you are mine, not his!"
The crowd gasped. Patrick's face turned crimson with fury. "Throw him out!" he roared.
Guards surged forward, but Jane broke free from Jayma's grip. Tears streamed down her cheeks
as she rushed toward Jack.
"Stop!" she cried. "Don't touch him!"
The guests erupted into shocked whispers. Patrick lunged forward to drag her back, but Jane
stood firm, clutching Jack's hand.
"This man gave me life," she said, her voice trembling yet clear. "He gave me his blood, his
strength, his kidney. He risked everything when no one else would. And you think I can abandon
him for wealth?"
The crowd fell silent. For the first time, Patrick faltered under the weight of his daughter's
words.
But before anyone could speak again, Shalom stepped forward from the shadows. Her eyes
gleamed with malice as she raised her voice.
"Tell them the whole truth, Jane!" she sneered. "Tell them your life was bought with our
mother's silence and Jack's mother's death. Tell them you're bound not by love, but by
guilt!"Gasps rippled through the gathering. All eyes turned back to Jane and Jack, the air thick
with shock.
Jane's knees weakened. Jack tightened his grip on her hand.
Shalom's words had lit a fire that could either destroy them—or finally expose the darkness
hidden in their family
Chapter Fifteen
Truths That Burn
Chaos swept through the garden like wildfire. Guests murmured in shock, their whispers
swelling into scandalous gossip. Some clutched their pearls in disbelief, others smirked at the
downfall of the mighty Tesy family.
Patrick roared above the noise. "Silence!" His face was red with rage, his hands trembling. He
glared at Shalom. "How dare you air family matters before strangers?"
But Shalom only laughed bitterly. "Strangers? These are your allies, Father. Shouldn't they know
the kind of man you really are? A man who would sacrifice anyone—Jack, Jane, even Mother—
for his ambitions."
Tesy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The shame was unbearable. Jane clung tighter to
Jack, tears streaking her face.
"Enough, Shalom," Jane pleaded. "Haven't you destroyed us enough already?"
But Shalom's voice only grew sharper. "Destroyed? No, sister. I'm saving you from your own
blindness. Do you think love will feed you? Do you think this pauper can give you the life you
deserve? You'll drown in his poverty, and when you do, don't say I didn't warn you!"
Jack's jaw tightened. His whole body shook, not with fear, but with the urge to speak. He
stepped forward, his voice clear and steady:
"I may not have riches, Shalom. But what I have, I've earned with my own hands. And what I
give Jane, I give from my heart, not from my wallet. If that makes me a pauper, then I'd rather
be poor forever than live one day in your world of betrayal."
The crowd erupted—some clapping in support, others muttering against him.
Patrick, humiliated before his peers, snapped. "Get out of my house, both of you!" e shouted
at Jack and Jane. "If you walk out together tonight, you walk out forever. You are no daughter
of mine!"
A stunned silence fell.
Jane turned to her father, her eyes filled not with fear but with resolve. "Then so be it," she
whispered. "I choose Jack."
Gasps filled the air as Jane tore away the jeweled necklace her father had placed on her earlier,
letting it fall to the ground. With Jack's hand in hers, she stepped past the guards, past the
stunned crowd, and into the uncertain night.
Behind them, Shalom's laughter echoed, mingling with her father's furious roar.And just like that, the Tesy family's perfect facade shattered.
Chapter Sixteen
Ashes of Wealth
The night swallowed them whole as Jack and Jane left the glittering lights of the Tesy mansion
behind. Jane's heels clicked against the pavement until Jack urged her to remove them. She
slipped them off, carrying them in her hands, her feet touching the bare earth for the first time
in years.
"Are you sure about this?" Jack asked softly, glancing at her.
Jane tightened her grip on his hand. "I'd rather walk barefoot with you than live in gold without
you."
They made their way to Buyukha, Jack's humble village. The journey was long and harsh. Jane's
once-pristine gown was soon torn and stained with dust. Her hair tangled, her skin bruised, but
her spirit burned brighter than ever.
When they arrived, Teresa's old hut stood silent. The memory of her sacrifice weighed heavy on
Jack, but Jane touched the wooden door gently.
"This will be our home," she whispered.
And so it was. Days turned into weeks. Jack worked the fields, hunted in the forest, and took
odd jobs in the nearby towns. Jane, once served by maids, now fetched water, cooked simple
meals, and washed clothes by hand. The villagers marveled at her humility, though some
whispered behind her back, doubting she could endure the life she had chosen.
At night, under the dim glow of a lantern, Jack and Jane spoke of dreams.
"One day," Jack said, "I'll build us a house stronger than this hut. And I'll send our children to
school so they never know the pain of poverty."
Jane smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "As long as we're together, even this hut feels
like a palace."
But peace never lasts.
Back in the city, Patrick seethed with humiliation. His allies mocked him, his reputation shaken.
To him, Jane was not just a daughter—she was a piece of his empire, and he would not allow
her to slip away so easily.
Shalom, meanwhile, fanned the flames. "Are you really going to let her shame us like this,
Father?" she sneered. "While she plays house with a pauper, your name is dragged through the
mud."
Patrick's eyes darkened. "No," he said coldly. "If Jane will not return willingly… then I will bring
her back by force."
Far away in the village, unaware of the storm gathering, Jack and Jane sat outside their hut
watching the stars. Jane pointed upward, her voice soft."Do you think my mother is watching us?"
Jack squeezed her hand. "And mine too. They gave us this chance, Jane. Now we must fight to
protect it."
The wind rustled through the trees, carrying a warning neither of them yet understood.
Chapter Seventeen
Storm at Buyukha
The morning in Buyukha broke with golden light, the air filled with the songs of birds. Jane knelt
by the river, scrubbing clothes against smooth stones, her hair tied back with a simple scarf.
Children laughed nearby, splashing in the water. For the first time, she felt free—untouched by
wealth, alive in simplicity.
But peace is fragile.
As Jane carried the wet clothes back to the hut, she noticed something unusual: a sleek black
car parked at the edge of the village road. Outsiders. Her heart skipped. She quickened her
pace.
Inside the hut, Jack was mending a fishing net. Jane's voice shook as she whispered, "They've
found us."
Jack stepped outside, scanning the horizon. Three men in dark suits emerged from the car.
Their polished shoes sank into the dusty ground, their eyes cold, their movements precise.
Patrick's men.
One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, called out. "Jackson Teresa. By order of Mr. Tesy, you
are to release Jane at once. She belongs to her family."
Jack clenched his fists. "Jane is not property. Tell Patrick she is where she belongs—here, with
me."
The man's expression hardened. "We can do this the easy way… or the hard way."
Before Jack could reply, Jane stepped forward, her voice trembling but strong. "I will not go
with you. My place is here. If you want me, you'll have to drag me away by force."
The villagers, sensing danger, began to gather. Old men, women, and youths surrounded the
hut, their eyes burning with defiance. Buyukha might have been poor, but it would not bow
easily.
The tension thickened. Then the tall man barked an order. Two of his men lunged forward. Jack
grabbed a wooden spear he had been carving, his body tense for the fight.
But before violence could break out, a loud whistle pierced the air.
From the forest's edge, Max—Jack's old neighbor, the man who once saved him from a lion—
appeared with a group of hunters armed with bows and machetes.
"You'll have to get through us first," Max growled.
The men hesitated. The crowd of villagers, now united, shouted in support. Outnumbered and
outmatched on strange ground, the intruders retreated to their car, their eyes cold with
promise.
"This isn't over," the tall man said before slamming the door shut. The car sped off in a cloud of of dust.Jane collapsed into Jack's arms, her body trembling. "He'll never stop, Jack. My father will come
again."
Jack kissed her forehead, his voice firm. "Then we'll be ready. Whatever storm he brings, we'll
face it together.
Chapter Eighteen
Fire and Resolve
The village of Buyukha buzzed with whispers after the confrontation. Children reenacted the
standoff with sticks and laughter, while elders sat beneath the old fig tree, shaking their heads.
"Patrick Tesy is not a man to give up," one said gravely. "If he could not break us with words, he
will return with fire."
Jane listened silently, her heart heavy. That night, as she and Jack shared a meal of roasted
maize, she spoke the truth neither of them wanted to face.
"He won't stop," she said softly. "My father doesn't lose. If he must crush this entire village to
bring me back, he will."
Jack's jaw tightened. "Then let him come. Buyukha is not afraid of men like him."
But Jane shook her head. "This is not just your fight, Jack. It's mine too. I can't hide behind you
forever."
The very next evening, Patrick struck again. This time, not with a handful of men—but with a
convoy of trucks. Dozens of guards poured out, armed with batons and rifles. Their headlights
cut through the night like the eyes of a beast.
The villagers gathered once more, holding farm tools, spears, even stones. Max stood at the
front with Jack, his machete gleaming under the moon.
Patrick himself stepped out of one of the trucks, dressed in an immaculate white suit. His face
was a mask of fury and pride.
"Jane," he called, his voice echoing. "Come to me now, and no one here will suffer. Refuse, and
I'll burn this village to the ground."
Jane stepped forward before Jack could stop her. Her voice rang clear: "Father, enough! I am
not a child to be bought or bartered. I am a woman, and I choose my life. I choose Jack."
The villagers cheered, their cries rising into the night. Patrick's face twisted with rage.
"Ungrateful girl," he spat. "You would defy your own blood for this… this beggar?"
Jane's voice trembled, but she stood tall. "Blood may bind us, Father, but love makes us family.
You lost me the moment you tried to chain my heart."
For the first time, Patrick faltered. Her defiance, her courage—it cut deeper than any rebellion
ever had.
Still, he raised his hand, signaling his men. But before violence could erupt, police sirens wailed
in the distance. Inspector Parmuat's vehicles roared into the village, headlights flashing.
"Enough, Patrick Tesy!" Parmuat's voice boomed. "Step back, or face the law!"The balance shifted. Patrick's men lowered their weapons reluctantly. Patrick glared at his
daughter one last time before storming back to his truck.
"This isn't finished," he growled, and the convoy retreated into the night.
As the villagers celebrated their narrow escape, Jane stood by Jack's side, her heart pounding.
For the first time, she had stood openly against her father—and won.
But deep inside, she knew the battle was far from over.
Chapter Nineteen
Shadows of Betrayal
While Patrick brooded in his Nairobi mansion, pouring whiskey into a glass that never seemed
to empty, another shadow stirred—Shalom.
Her arrest had tarnished her name, her release on bail had brought shame, and Jane's defiance
had lit a fire of envy that burned hotter with every passing day. To her, Jane was not just a
sister. She was a mirror—everything Shalom had failed to be.
"If I cannot shine," Shalom whispered bitterly to her reflection, "then I will drag her into the
darkness with me."
Weeks later, Buyukha returned to its rhythm of farming and trade. Jack and Jane worked side by
side, slowly building a life from the soil. Their hut now had a sturdier roof, thanks to the help of
Max and the villagers.
But Jane could not shake the feeling of being watched. At the river, she noticed footprints that
were not hers. At night, shadows lingered near the hut longer than they should.
One evening, as she fetched water alone, Shalom stepped out from behind the reeds.
"Hello, sister," she said with a cold smile.
Jane froze, the clay pot slipping from her hands and shattering at her feet. "Shalom… what are
you doing here?"
Her twin's eyes glittered with malice. "I came to see what poverty looks like on you. I must
admit—you wear it better than I expected."
Jane swallowed hard. "Go home, Shalom. Whatever you're planning, it ends here."
But Shalom leaned closer, her whisper venomous. "No, Jane. It begins here. You stole Jack's
heart, you stole Father's favor, and even in suffering, you somehow win sympathy. But soon…
you'll have nothing."
Before Jane could respond, Shalom vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echo of her
threat.
That night, Jack found Jane trembling beside the hearth.
"She was here," Jane whispered. "Shalom. She's planning something, Jack—I know it."Jack
pulled her close, his voice firm. "Then let her come. We've faced lions before. We'll face this
one too."
But deep down, both knew that Shalom's hatred was not like Patrick's pride. It was colder,
sharper—deadlier.
And somewhere beyond the village, she was already setting her trap.
Chapter Twenty
The Trap
The moon hung low over Buyukha, casting silver shadows across the quiet fields. Jane sat by
the fire, restless, her thoughts heavy with Shalom's threat. Jack tried to calm her, but unease
gnawed at them both.
"Don't let her words haunt you," Jack said, stroking her hair gently. "She thrives on fear. We
won't give it to her."
Jane nodded, though her heart disagreed. Shalom's eyes, cold and sharp as broken glass, had
promised more than empty threats.
Two nights later, the village gathered for a wedding feast. A neighbor's son was taking a bride,
and laughter echoed through the open fields. Drums pounded, fires roared, and children
danced under the stars.
Jane, dressed in a simple kitenge, smiled for the first time in weeks. She swayed with the
rhythm, her hand clasped in Jack's. For a moment, it felt as though the shadows had lifted.
But Shalom was watching.
Hidden in the darkness beyond the torches, she whispered to the men she had brought—
thieves and mercenaries lured by the promise of Patrick's money. Their orders were simple:
strike when the celebration was loudest.
And so they did.
The first scream tore through the night as smoke filled the air. One of the huts at the edge of
the field erupted in flames. Panic spread like wildfire. Villagers scattered, children cried, and
chaos reigned.
Jack leapt to his feet. "Jane, stay behind me!"
From the smoke, armed men surged forward. They weren't after the villagers—they were after
Jane.
Shalom stepped into the firelight, her smile cruel. "You thought you could escape me, sister?
Tonight, you lose everything."
Jack lunged, grabbing a spear from one of the attackers, fighting with raw desperation. Max and
the other hunters joined in, clashing with the mercenaries, their machetes gleaming.
But in the chaos, Shalom seized her chance. She grabbed Jane's arm, dragging her toward the
waiting truck. Jane screamed, fighting with all her strength, but Shalom's grip was iron.
"Let her go!" Jack roared, breaking free from one attacker. He sprinted toward the truck, his
heart hammering.
Shalom shoved Jane inside and slammed the door. The engine roared to life. Dust and flameswirled as the truck lurched forward, carrying Jane away into the night. ack fell to his knees, breathless and furious, as the sound of the engine faded.
"Jane!" he cried into the darkness.
But she was gone
Chapter Twenty-One
The Pursuit
The fire from the raid still smoldered in Buyukha as Jack stood at the edge of the village, his
chest heaving, his eyes burning with fury. The echo of the truck's engine haunted his ears.
Jane—his Jane—was gone.
Max placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "We'll get her back, Jack. You're not alone in this
fight."
Around them, villagers gathered with spears, machetes, and bows. Men and women alike had
risen, their loyalty unshaken. Jane had become one of them, and they would not abandon her.
But Jack knew this was more than a village quarrel. Shalom had money, mercenaries, and her
father's shadow looming over her. To face her, courage alone would not be enough.
"We move before dawn," Jack said, his voice steady though his heart thundered. "Every minute
she's with Shalom, she's in danger."
Far away, in a secluded compound hidden among the hills, Jane sat bound in a dimly lit room.
Shalom paced before her, eyes glinting with triumph.
"You thought you could escape me," she sneered. "But look at you now. Torn from your
pauper's arms, just as it should be."
Jane lifted her chin, her voice calm but cutting. "You think chains can break me, Shalom? You'll
never win. Jack will come for me. He always does."
For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt crossed Shalom's face. But she quickly buried it beneath a
bitter laugh. "Then let him come. This time, he won't leave alive."
Back in Nairobi, Patrick received the news of Jane's abduction. Rage and confusion battled
within him. "Shalom, what have you done?" he muttered, slamming his glass onto the table. For
the first time, the tycoon felt control slipping from his grip.
"Perhaps," he whispered to himself, "it is I who has turned my children into enemies."
As the first light of dawn painted the horizon, Jack tightened the strap of his spear and looked
over his companions—Max, the hunters, and a handful of brave villagers.
"This isn't just about rescuing Jane," he told them. "It's about proving that love cannot be
bought, chained, or burned away. Today, we fight not just for her—but for every heart that's
ever been told it wasn't enough."
The villagers roared in agreement, their voices carrying across the fields.
And so, with the rising sun at their backs, Jack led the pursuit into the hills, his heart set on the
girl who was his life, his destiny, his everything.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Captive Heart
The room where Jane was kept smelled of damp wood and kerosene. A single bulb flickered
overhead, throwing shadows across the walls. Her wrists were bound, but her spirit was not.
Shalom sat across from her, sipping from a glass of wine as though she were the queen of the
night. Around them, armed men leaned lazily against the walls, their laughter crude, their eyes
watchful.
"You don't belong in that mud hut," Shalom said, her tone almost casual. "You were born for
silk, for chandeliers, for power. Yet you chose a boy with nothing but calloused hands and
empty pockets. Why?"
Jane met her sister's gaze, unflinching. "Because Jack gave me more than all the gold in Father's
vaults. He gave me his life, Shalom. He gave me love."
The mercenaries stirred at her words. Some smirked, but others shifted uneasily, their eyes
betraying doubt. Even among hardened men, love spoken with conviction carried weight.
Shalom's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Love?" she scoffed. "Love
doesn't last. Power does. And tonight, when Jack comes for you—and he will—I'll show you
which one truly wins."
Jane's heart raced, but she refused to let fear show. She lifted her chin and whispered, "If you
hurt him, Shalom, you'll lose more than a sister. You'll lose the last shred of your soul."
For a fleeting second, her words struck deep. But Shalom turned away, barking orders to her
men. "Double the guards at the gate. Load the guns. When Jack comes, he dies."
At that same moment, Jack and his small band of villagers were trekking through the hills. Max
walked beside him, scanning the terrain.
"She's close," Max murmured. "I can smell smoke. They're hiding in the old quarry compound."
Jack gripped his spear tighter. His body trembled not from fear, but from the storm of love and
fury burning within him.
"Hold on, Jane," he whispered into the wind. "I'm coming."
Back in the compound, Jane sat alone after Shalom left. She closed her eyes, drawing strength
not from her surroundings, but from the memory of Jack's voice.
Even in chains, I am free, she told herself. Because love cannot be bound.
And in that moment, she knew: no matter what trap Shalom laid, Jack's love would find her
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Final Showdown
The night was heavy with silence as Jack and the villagers reached the edge of the old quarry.
Fires flickered inside the compound, shadows moving against the walls. Jack crouched low, his
spear clenched tight, his heart pounding with the force of a war drum.
Max leaned close. "We'll split. I'll take the hunters around the back. You—go for Jane. This is
your fight."
Jack nodded, his eyes fixed on the guarded gate. "Thank you, brother."
With a whistle, Max signaled his men, and they melted into the darkness.
Inside the compound, Shalom stood at the balcony overlooking her mercenaries. She wore
black, her hair flowing wild, her eyes gleaming with madness.
"Stay sharp!" she barked. "He's coming for her, and when he does, I want him crawling in the
dirt before me!"
Her men roared in response, tightening their grips on guns and machetes.
Jane, bound in the corner of the courtyard, lifted her head. Her eyes widened as movement
stirred at the edge of the shadows. She knew that stance, that fire.
"Jack," she whispered, tears rising.
The first arrow flew. One of Shalom's men dropped with a cry. Chaos erupted. Max and the
hunters stormed from the rear, machetes flashing, arrows whistling through the night.
Jack burst through the front gate, his spear a blur of wood and steel. He fought like a lion, every
strike driven by love, every step bringing him closer to Jane.
"Stop him!" Shalom screamed, firing a pistol into the air.
But nothing could stop him. He cut through the chaos, his body bloodied but unbroken, until he
reached Jane. With a swift strike, he knocked down her guard, breaking her bonds with the
edge of his spear.
Jane clung to him, sobbing. "I knew you'd come."
He pulled her close for a heartbeat, whispering, "Always."But Shalom was not done. From the
balcony, she aimed her pistol at Jack's chest.
"Move, and I'll kill him!" she shrieked.
The courtyard froze. Smoke and blood hung in the air. Max and the hunters tightened their
circle, but no one dared move.
Jane stepped forward, shielding Jack with her body. Her voice rang out, fierce and unshaken. .Then you'll kill me too, Shalom. Because where Jack goes, I go."
The words struck like lightning. Even the mercenaries faltered, murmurs rippling through their
ranks. Shalom's hand trembled. Rage and jealousy burned in her eyes—but beneath it,
something cracked.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why him and not me? Why does he choose you
every time?"
Jane's eyes filled with tears, but her voice was steady. "Because love isn't taken, Shalom. It's
given. And you never learned how to give."
For a moment, silence reigned. Shalom's pistol wavered. And in that hesitation, Max moved—
knocking the gun from her hand and pinning her to the ground.
The courtyard erupted in cheers as the last of Shalom's mercenaries fled. Jack wrapped Jane in
his arms, their tears mingling with relief.
It was over. Or so it seemed
Chapter Twenty-Four
Breaking Chains
Dawn broke over the quarry compound, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold. The
night's battle lay heavy on the ground—broken weapons, trails of blood, the silence of defeat.
Shalom sat bound against a pillar, her hair tangled, her eyes hollow. The mercenaries who had
followed her were gone, scattered like shadows chased by the sun. She no longer looked like
the fierce queen she tried to be, but like a girl lost in her own bitterness.
Jack stood before her, Jane's hand in his. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, quietly:
"Was it worth it, Shalom? The hate? The lies? You could have had a sister. Instead, you chose an
enemy."
Shalom looked away, but Jane stepped closer. Her voice was gentle yet firm.
"You are my sister, Shalom. That hasn't changed. But you've chained yourself with envy, and
until you let it go, you'll never be free."
For the first time, tears welled in Shalom's eyes. She tried to speak, but no words came.
Later that day, the police arrived. Inspector Parmuat took Shalom into custody, his face grave.
"She'll face justice this time," he told Jack and Jane. "Not even Patrick can shield her from the
law anymore."
Jane wept softly as they led her sister away, torn between pain and relief. Jack held her close.
"She made her choices, Jane. Now we must make ours."
Back in Nairobi, Patrick received the news. At first, he was furious—at Shalom, at Jane, at Jack.
But as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, something inside him cracked.
"What have I done?" he whispered. "In chasing power, I've lost both my daughters."
For the first time, Patrick felt the weight of his pride pressing down on him like a stone.
Weeks passed. Jack and Jane returned to Buyukha, rebuilding their lives in peace. One
afternoon, as Jane fetched water by the river, a black car appeared at the edge of the village.
Patrick stepped out. No guards, no entourage—only a weary man with gray in his hair and
regret in his eyes.
Jane froze, her breath catching. "Father…"Patrick's voice was low, unsteady. "I came… not to
take you back. But to ask for forgiveness. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps love is worth more than
all my gold."
Jack joined Jane, standing protectively by her side. For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Jane stepped forward, tears glistening.
"I forgive you, Father. But you must forgive yourself too."
Patrick's eyes softened. Slowly, he nodded. For the first time, the chains of pride that bound
him began to break.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ever After
The sun rose brightly over Buyukha, casting golden light across the fields. The village buzzed
with joy—drums echoed, women sang, children danced barefoot in the dust. Today was no
ordinary day. Today was the day Jack and Jane would wed.
Jane stood outside the hut, dressed not in silk or jewels, but in a simple white gown sewn by the
village women. A crown of fresh flowers rested in her hair, her beauty radiant not because of
wealth, but because of love.
Jack waited by the great fig tree, his heart pounding. He wore a clean shirt, simple yet proud,
and around his neck hung a leather cord that had once belonged to his mother. Teresa's spirit,
he felt, was with him.
The villagers gathered as the elders began the ceremony. Jane's steps were slow and graceful as
she walked toward Jack. When their eyes met, the world seemed to fall away—no guards, no
wealth, no chains, only them.
"I thought I'd lost you a hundred times," Jack whispered as she reached him.
Jane smiled, her eyes glistening. "And a hundred times, you found me again."
Among the guests stood Patrick, dressed in a modest suit. For the first time, he wasn't the
tycoon towering over others, but simply a father watching his daughter find happiness. His eyes
brimmed with tears as he listened to her vows.
"I choose you, Jack," Jane said, her voice steady. "Not for what you have, but for who you are.
Through hunger or feast, through sorrow or joy—I am yours, always."
Jack took her hands, his voice deep with emotion. "I choose you, Jane. You are my heart, my
breath, my reason to fight. I swear, as long as I have life, you will never stand alone."
The elders raised their hands, the villagers cheered, and drums thundered across the fields. Jack
and Jane were joined—not by wealth, not by force, but by love that had survived every storm.
Later that night, as the fires burned and laughter filled the air, Jack stepped aside for a moment,
gazing at the stars.
Turn every odd into an even, his mother's words whispered in his heart.
He smiled, his arm wrapping around Jane as she joined him. "We did it, Mama," he murmured.
"We turned the odds into evens."
Jane leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "And now, we begin our forever."
The drums played on, the village danced, and for the first time in a long time, peace reigned.