Don celebrated with his friends in his room, glasses of alcohol in hand. "We did it guys!" he exclaimed, a broad grin stretching across his face. “How dare Marcus think he could compete with me for Sandra's affection," he scoffed, his words laced with a hint of arrogance. "A poor man trying to rub shoulders with the elite. Hah!" His friends laughed, their voices filling the room with a chorus of approval. Don raised his glass, his eyes gleaming with triumph.“Cheers to victory,” one of his friends mumbled as they hit their glasses together.Don's mind swirled with vindictive thoughts, his obsession with Sandra a deep-rooted fixation that had burrowed into the core of his being. Sandra will have no choice but to submit to me he mused, his expression darkening as he reveled in his own power.His childhood affection for Sandra had led him to manipulate his parents into favoring her father, elevating them to the status of a third-tier family. Don had always fiercely defended Sandra fro
Marcus was seething with rage. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel of his car, his knuckles turning white as he read and reread the message. It was as if the words had been carved into his mind, taunting him with their accusation. He tried to think if had any issues with Don but none was coming to his mind. "Don," he spat through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with anger. "You've gone too far. You've bitten off more than you can chew." With a swift motion, Marcus started the car, his foot pressing down on the accelerator as he pulled out of the driveway.Sandra watched Marcus's car speed off, its engine roaring with the force of his fury. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of his abrupt departure. With a concerned frown, Sandra pulled out her phone, her thumb swiping over the screen to dial Marcus's number. But he did not pick up, his silence only heightening her anxiety. Where did he go? she whispered, her voice tinged
Marcus dailed a number and with the first ring the person at the other end of the phone picked it immediately.“Hello boss,” the person greeted.“I want you to organize a party tonight. Invite top tycoons and the press.”“As you wish boss,” the man said and Marcus gave him a curt nod even though he could not see him. Marcus ended the call and walked to the mirror, his hands resting on the table.Marcus, his face alight with wicked glee, grinned into the mirror, his fingers raking through his hair, his eyes dancing with anticipation. "It's time to make my move," he muttered, his voice ringing with confidence as he pocketed his phone. With a satisfied smirk, Marcus turned on his heels, his footsteps echoing through the empty room. "Let's begin the show," he said, his laughter echoing like a sinister crescendo.Sandra's father's voice boomed over the phone, his words carrying the weight of his fury.Sandra, her phone vibrating in her hand, looked at the caller ID with a sigh. It was he
Don and his entire family stepped out, their smiles wide and radiating as the press focused their cameras on them. Don’s father began to speak, his voice carrying across the crowd. “As you all know, we are philanthropists—people who help the poor and build homes for those in need.” The crowd erupted into applause as Marcus checked his wristwatch, a small chuckle escaping his lips.Marcus took a seat, puffing on his shisha as a grin spread across his face. He watched Don and his family with a sense of anticipation, knowing that his revenge was near. In his mind, it was only a matter of time before Don would be forced to leave this place in shame. As the press snapped pictures of Don and his family, Marcus continued to observe them, each inhale of smoke a reminder of the power he held.With a gleam of satisfaction, Don pressed a button, sending a beam of light onto the projector. The crowd erupted in applause, a flash of light illuminating Don’s smile. But just as quickly as the room
A furious Don father stormed into the police station, his gaze fixed on the officers who had arrested his son in front of the press. “How dare you, how could you arrest my son in front of the press!” he roared, his voice seething with rage. “I thought we were friends.” The deputy police officer stepped forward, a look of contrition on his face. “I’m sorry, sir. The order came from above.” Don's father's face turned stormy, his eyes narrowing as he took in the news. He hissed through clenched teeth, the betrayal stinging like a slap to the face.“I’m here to bail my son out,” he stated firmly, expecting immediate compliance. But the deputy officer’s gaze was steely, his response chilling. “We can’t grant you that.”“I want to bail my son out,” He repeated, assuming the deputy police officer did not hear him earlier.Don's father's demand fell on deaf ears as the deputy officer maintained his resolve. “I’m sorry, sir,” he repeated, his voice devoid of pity. “The order is clear—you
Don Father dialed the number again, but was met with silence. He gritted his teeth in frustration and called one of his men. "Any information?" he asked, his voice tinged with anger. "Yes sir," the man replied. "I was just about to call you. There is no trace of who did this, but the person left a message."Don Father's patience snapped. "You can't do a simple job? You're telling me there's no information?!" he roared.“I tried my best sir!”The phone call ended with a click, and the Don Father seethed. "Your best isn’t enough," he roared, frustration boiling within him. Kneeling to Marcus was his only option, but the thought of it made his blood boil. In desperation, he dialed the Chief Police Officer, but the call was declined. The Don Father hissed, his pride bruised as the officers in the station stared at him with a mixture of fear and disgust. He’d once commanded respect, but his empire was now crumbling around him.Fuming, the Don Father stormed out of the station and into
Don’s father, was incensed by the false news being circulated. He picked up his phone to call Marcus, who had been the source of the misinformation, but Marcus declined his calls. Frustrated, he threw his phone away, his anger growing. This was the worst day of his life, and he had no idea how to fix the situation.As Mr. Don's frustration mounted, he found himself in a precarious situation. Not only was his reputation at stake due to the spread of inaccurate news, but his attempts to reach Marcus, the source of the misinformation, were futile. With limited options and dwindling patience, he struggled to find a way to clear his son's name and salvage the situation.Enraged, Mr. Don grabbed his other phone and dialed the chief police officer. "This is not what we agreed on!" he snapped as soon as the officer answered. "What am I seeing in the news?"The chief officer scoffed in response, his tone condescending. "You don't raise your voice to me, Mr. Man," he warned. "I made a promi
And then, like a glimmer of hope in the darkness, a message popped up: "THINGS CAN BE SET RIGHT IF YOU KNEEL ON THE FLOOR AND BEG MARCUS PUBLICLY." Jack read the message again, his mind racing."What?" Jack shouted, his voice carrying the weight of his shock and confusion. Don, sensing his father's distress, hurriedly rushed over. "What is it, pa?" he asked, his concern palpable.But Jack was unable to find his voice. With shaking hands, he passed the phone to his son, who took it with a questioning look. When Don's eyes fell on the message, his expression shifted from curiosity to pure rage."Who the hell sent this?!" he roared, his fists clenching at his sides as if he were ready to take on the entire world.Jack's voice was weak, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he answered, "I don't know, Don." His hands flew to his head, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. "Apologizing to Marcus in private was already more than I could handle," he confessed, his face a mask
Marcus dropped the gun on Grey's chest, covering his face with his hands before standing up and pulling his hair back. He walked away, got into his car, and drove off, lost in thought.As he arrived home, he rested his head on the steering wheel, wondering how he would face his parents. He was still reeling from the revelation that his parents, whom he had believed were dead, were actually alive.With a sigh, he stepped out of the car and locked it, noticing the eerie silence. As he entered the house, he flipped on the light switch, and suddenly, everyone screamed "Surprise!"Marcus flinched, taken aback by the sudden noise and the sea of faces before him. He was surrounded by loved ones, all holding flowers and balloons, their faces beaming with joy."What's going on?" Marcus asked, genuinely surprised, and they all smiled.Sandra stepped forward, beaming. "Since your parents are alive, I thought of doing a little celebration to mark the happy news," she explained, and everyone nodde
"I should be the one saying that," Grey sneered, laughing evilly. Marcus stared at him, his eyes blazing with fury, as he moved forward."You dare think of hurting my parents?" Marcus growled.Grey shrugged. "That's the rule of the street: kill to survive."Marcus shook his head in disgust. "Not your own blood, Grey. He was your elder brother, and you dared to do this to him?"Grey smirked. "Spare me the crap, Marcus. You would have done the same if you were in my shoes. It's survival. The rule is to survive. Your father thought he could have all the good things in life and make me his puppet? Never. I took control of my own destiny."Marcus scoffed. "Take control of your destiny? You call this control? Locking up your own family, manipulating and using them for your own gain?"Grey didn't answer, he just shrugged his shoulders, his expression unrepentant."You know one of the things I hate?" Marcus asked, his eyes blazing with anger as he stared at Grey."What?" Grey asked, a hint of
The next day, after breakfast, Marcus set out to Grey's house, parking his car at a distance. He put on his hoodie and stepped out, glancing around cautiously before walking towards the gate. To his surprise, it swung open with ease, suggesting Grey had forgotten to lock it. Marcus entered, still looking over his shoulder, and pushed open the creaky front door.As he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the empty rooms, his gaze darting everywhere. The house seemed abandoned, with no signs of life or warmth. Marcus let out a sigh, confusion etched on his face. Why did Grey's house look like no one lived there?He began to climb the stairs, trying to be careful not to make a sound, his senses heightened as he ventured deeper into the house.Marcus stood in the middle of the house, his eyes scanning the area, trying to locate the source of the mysterious noise he had heard earlier. He finally found the room, but it was locked. He searched for something to open the door, but found nothing
Sandra groaned, trying to sit up, and Marcus rushed to her side, helping her into a comfortable position. She gave him a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Leaning back against the pillow, she whispered, "Thank you."Marcus nodded, adjusting the pillow for her. The silence between them was awkward, until Marcus cleared his throat, forcing Sandra to look at him. "I want to ask a personal question," he said, his eyes locked on hers.Sandra nodded weakly, "Go on."Marcus held her hands, his voice filled with emotion. "Have you ever thought of marriage?" he asked, his eyes searching for answers.Sandra smiled weakly, but this time, it reached her eyes. "Does it matter?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Marcus nodded, urging her to answer. "Please, answer me. Have you ever thought of marriage?" he asked again, his voice filled with longing.Sandra chuckled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Why are you so interested? When did you begin to care?" she asked, her voice
"What?!" Marcus exclaimed, stunned, and Katherine nodded, swallowing hard. "The report came in when you left to find her," she said, her voice trembling. "It showed that she's carrying a child." Marcus gasped, cursing under his breath as he rubbed his hair in disbelief. "No, no, no," he muttered, shaking his head. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He didn't need a DNA test to know the child was his. Overwhelmed, Marcus collapsed to the floor, covering his face with his hands. He felt angry at himself, frustrated that he couldn't protect his own child. "I couldn't be there for my own child... what kind of father am I?" he mumbled, slapping himself in despair. Katherine rushed to his side, trying to calm him down. "Stop, Marcus, please," she begged, but he shook her off. "No, I have failed," he repeated, slapping himself harder. "I have failed as a father. What kind of father am I?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. Katherine paused, taken aback by his word
Amayah seized the opportunity to escape, dashing outside as Marcus was distracted. She spotted Owen and rushed towards him, relief washing over her. "Baby, let's get out of here! Marcus is crazy!" she begged, tugging on Owen's arm.But Owen didn't budge. Instead, he pulled her close, his hands gripping her waist tightly. "How did you think I ended up here?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.Amayah swallowed hard, confusion etched on her face. "I don't get it," she stammered.Owen let out an evil laugh. "You're truly dumb," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.Amayah's eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place. "Wait, you... you tracked me here?" she asked, disbelief etched on her face.Owen nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Amayah tried to step back, but he caught her, holding her tight. She was trapped, and Owen's grip only tightened as he reveled in his sinister triumph."I didn't just track you here," Owen sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "
Amayah sprang to her feet, tears streaming down her face. "Johnson, please don't hurt me!" she begged, her voice trembling.Johnson's eyes widened in shock, his mind racing. How could she betray him like this?Amayah held up her hands, pleading. "Please don't rape me!" she sobbed.Johnson's expression turned incredulous. "Are you out of your mind?" he demanded, but Amayah ignored him, her eyes fixed on him with a desperate, crying gaze.She reached out a hand, as if to touch him, but Johnson recoiled, backing away from her. "You foolish woman," he sneered. "You think you can put on this act?"But before he could finish, Marcus stormed over, his face a mask of fury. He grabbed Johnson's collar, yanking him forward, and delivered a swift, powerful blow.Marcus lifted Johnson up again, his fists flying in a flurry of punches. "How dare you think of laying your hands on Sandra!" he growled, each blow landing with precision and force.Johnson stumbled back, his eyes wide with fear, before
Amayah quickly stepped out, her flashlight casting a bright beam as she descended from the porch and circled the house. But she saw no one. As she turned around, she collided with a chest and let out a startled shout.Johnson swiftly covered her mouth, whispering, "Shh!"Amayah pushed him away, her expression disgusted. "You scared me!"Johnson raised his hands in defense. "Not my intention."Amayah rolled her eyes. "Did you see anyone?" Johnson asked, and she shook her head."No," she replied.Johnson nodded. "Maybe it was just one of these animals."As he dragged her inside, Amayah couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching them. She wanted to express her concerns, but knew Johnson would only dismiss her. So she kept quiet, her unease growing with each passing moment.As they entered, they covered their noses in disgust, realizing that Sandra had urinated on herself. Amayah's anger flared, and she walked up to Sandra, giving her a dirty slap. But instead of cowering, S
Amayah felt a sudden sense of unease, as if she was being followed. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, shining her torch into the darkness. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice firm but laced with a hint of fear.Owen, hiding behind a tree, held his breath, hoping not to be discovered. Amayah took a step closer, her torchlight dancing across the trees, mere inches from Owen's face. Just as she was about to shine the light directly on him, her phone rang, breaking the tension.The ID card flashed "Johnson" on the screen, and Amayah let out a sigh before answering. "What's up?" she asked, turning away from Owen's hiding spot."Where are you?" Johnson's voice asked, his tone laced with concern."Close," Amayah replied, glancing around nervously. "I felt someone chasing after me."Johnson chuckled. "It's just your mind playing games with you. Who would be awake at this time?"Amayah nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Fine, I'll hasten my steps."As she ended th