Ochieng's eyes scanned the documents, his mind a storm of controlled chaos. Every line, every detail—proof of a betrayal so deep it cut through his soul like a blade. His parents' deaths were orchestrated, not by some nameless enemy, but by someone within his own circle.
The name on the last page made his fingers tighten around the paper.
"Harrison Langston."
A name that carried weight in the underworld. A man untouchable by the law, feared by even the most ruthless warlords. He was the leader of The Eighth Province, a silent king who moved pawns across a chessboard where no one even knew they were playing.
Ochieng closed the folder, his heart steady, his face unreadable. But inside? A storm raged.
Sofia leaned back, watching him. "I expected a reaction."
Ochieng exhaled slowly. "You wanted me to lose control. You failed."
She smirked. "Oh, Ochieng, you don't understand. This is bigger than revenge. This is about power."
He stood up, buttoning his jacket. "I don't need your help, Sofia."
"Are you sure?" Her voice was smooth, teasing. "Because Langston doesn't just kill his enemies—he erases them. And if he finds out you know the truth..."
Ochieng met her gaze. "Then he should start digging his own grave."
With that, he walked away, his next move already forming in his mind.
Tonight, a war had begun.