Ochieng stood before the towering glass windows of his penthouse, watching the cityscape illuminate under the night sky. His grip tightened around the crystal glass filled with whiskey, his mind clouded by the events that had unfolded earlier that day.
"You always knew it would come to this, didn't you?" A voice echoed behind him.
He turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto the woman standing in his living room. Matilda, her sleek black dress hugging her curves, smirked as she swirled the wine in her glass. There was a time he would have trusted her with his life. Now, he wasn't so sure.
"Did you ever love me, Matilda?" Ochieng asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of a thousand betrayals.
Matilda took a step forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "Love? Oh, Ochieng... love is a dangerous game. One that you've been playing much longer than me."
His jaw clenched. He had sacrificed too much to get where he was. The underground deals, the power struggles, the fights in the dark alleys of the city—everything had been for survival. And yet, betrayal always found its way into his life like a persistent shadow.
Just that morning, he had discovered the truth. His closest allies—Jeff, Linet, and even Wendy—had been playing their own game, keeping secrets from him. The empire he had built was no longer just his; it had been infiltrated, piece by piece, until he stood alone once again.
But Ochieng was never one to crumble.
"You think I don't see it?" he continued, his voice laced with cold amusement. "The secret meetings, the late-night phone calls. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
Matilda chuckled, setting her glass down on the table. "And yet, here we are. What are you going to do about it, Ochieng? Kill me? Or maybe, for once, accept that you can't control everything?"
He took a slow step forward, his presence overwhelming. "I don't need to control everything, Matilda. I just need to control the endgame. And trust me, I always do."
A knock on the door interrupted the charged silence. Ochieng motioned for Matilda to sit as he moved to answer it. The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by the last person he expected to see.
Caroline.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her usually flawless appearance slightly disheveled. "We need to talk. Now."
Behind her, shadows lurked—figures hidden in the darkness, watching, waiting.
Ochieng exhaled slowly, stepping aside to let her in. Whatever was coming next, he knew one thing for sure.
The real war had just begun.