Ochieng stood at the highest balcony of the skyscraper, the city lights stretching infinitely before him. Below, Emerald City was alive—cars rushed, clubs pulsed with music, and the streets whispered secrets in the night air. But Ochieng's mind was elsewhere.
He had built everything from the shadows, unseen, underestimated. And now, they thought they could take it from him?
A soft chime rang in his ear—a private signal.
He tapped his earpiece. "Speak."
Jeff's voice came through, sharp and urgent. "They made a move. Your uncle's men raided the old estate. They're looking for the documents."
Ochieng's jaw tightened. His uncle. The man had always been a snake, but now, he was getting desperate.
"Did they find anything?"
"No. But they're getting reckless."
Ochieng turned away from the view, walking inside his penthouse. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking softly. He had spent years preparing for this moment. They thought he would be an easy target—a forgotten heir, an outsider. They had no idea what was coming.
A knock at the door.
Tielen, Bruno, and Gloria stepped in. Behind them, Derick, Omondi, Rolex, Eugene, Walter, and Victoria followed. Each of them had their own empire, their own reasons for being here. But tonight, they all had one thing in common—Ochieng's war was now their war.
"They crossed the line," Ochieng said, his voice calm, deadly. "It's time we remind them who truly owns this city."
Gloria smirked, leaning against the desk. "You know once we start this, there's no turning back."
Ochieng downed the rest of his whiskey. "I was never planning to."
Tielen chuckled darkly. "Then let's burn everything they love."
The room was silent. And then, one by one, they nodded.
Tonight, the balance of power would shift.
By morning, the world would know Ochieng's name.
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