The city pulsed beneath Ochieng's penthouse, a living entity of lights and whispers. He stared at the black envelope in his hand, the weight of the message pressing against his chest.
"Your past is coming for you."
The words burned into his mind. He had spent years burying the past, rewriting his own history, and now—someone had dug it up.
Rolex shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping against the armrest. "What's the move, boss?"
Ochieng's gaze lifted to his most trusted men—Rolex, Walter, and Gideon. They were more than bodyguards; they were shadows, wolves who had killed and bled for him.
"Find out everything about 'The Phantom.'" Ochieng's voice was ice. "I want to know who he is, who he works with, and what he thinks he has on me."
Victoria sighed, crossing her arms. "He's not just another enemy, Ochieng. He plays on an entirely different level."
Ochieng smirked, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Then it's time I remind the world that I do, too."
A knock on the door.
Everyone stiffened. Rolex's hand rested on his gun, Walter positioned himself behind the entrance, and Gideon gave a silent nod.
Ochieng casually took a sip of his drink. "Enter."
The door creaked open. A woman stepped in, her heels clicking against the floor. She was draped in an emerald dress, her raven-black hair cascading over one shoulder.
Ela.
The room tensed. Ela was unpredictable—sometimes an ally, sometimes a threat.
"Ochieng," she purred, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. "It's been a while."
He leaned back in his seat, watching her closely. "Not long enough."
She smirked. "Still cold. I like that."
Walter growled. "Say what you came to say, Ela."
Ela sighed dramatically. "Fine. The Phantom wants to meet."
Ochieng's eyes narrowed. "Where?"
Ela smiled. "Somewhere you'll never expect."
The room was silent. Then Ochieng stood, adjusting his cufflinks.
"Then let's not keep him waiting."