Chapter 208

"You’re lying," I said, my voice sharp and cutting through the air between us. I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t make sense of it. "My father is dead. You—"

Yemi’s eyes were grim, the kind of look that told me he wasn’t in the mood for denial. "I wish I were, Dee. But this... this is real."

I blinked, the world around me suddenly spinning, reality becoming fluid. "Then why didn’t he… why didn’t anyone say anything? Why didn’t you tell me before now?" My breath caught in my throat. "What does this even mean? How could he—"

"He’s been hiding in plain sight," Yemi finished for me, his words dragging through the silence like a thunderclap.

I staggered back, gripping the bedpost for balance. The air felt heavy, suffocating. My heart was racing, and for the first time in what felt like years, all the walls I’d carefully constructed around my heart began to crack. "No, this… no," I stammered.

Yemi didn’t move. He couldn’t, his body rooted to the floor as if every word he said was a weight pulling him deeper into the ground.

"Why would he do this?" I whispered, more to myself than to him.

The answer was simple: revenge.

Hours later, Yemi and I found ourselves on the phone with his mother, trying to piece together the fragmented story. The woman who’d once been an iron pillar of our family—who had stood like a fortress against the storm—was unraveling right before my eyes.

"He’s been manipulating us, Dee," she said, her voice breaking over the phone line. "For years. All this time, I thought I’d buried the past, but now... now it’s coming back to haunt us. He wants everything we have. The business. Our family legacy."

"Who, Mama?" Yemi asked, his voice strained. "Who’s doing this?"

"Victor," she replied, her breath sharp, as if even speaking his name was a betrayal. "It’s always been Victor. Your father never wanted him to have anything. But he’s been working in the shadows, pulling strings. And now, he wants it all."

The name hit me like a blow to the chest. Victor Langston. I had known the name, of course. Yemi’s father’s business rival. The man who’d made our lives hell years ago, who had stolen the company’s future and ruined everything in his path. The man who had taken Yemi’s father’s life. But to hear that he was still alive, pulling these strings from the dark—it was like something out of a nightmare.

I squeezed Yemi’s hand, trying to steady myself. I could feel the tension in him, the growing fury, the need to protect everything he’d ever known.

"We need to handle this," Yemi said quietly, his voice dark with resolve. "And we will. But we have to act fast."

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. He was right. There was no time to lose.

The next few days felt like a blur. We packed our bags, left the villa, and returned to the city, our minds focused on the one thing that mattered: finding Victor and stopping whatever twisted plan he had in motion.

We knew he was dangerous. We knew he was ruthless. But we had no idea how far he was willing to go to make his mark.

I kept replaying the conversations in my mind. I kept thinking about Yemi’s father—about everything he’d done to protect his family. To protect us. The secrets he’d kept. The legacy he’d built. It was all starting to come undone.

Yemi and I were standing at the front door of his family’s estate, the place that had once felt like a sanctuary. But today, it felt like a prison.

I could see the doubt in his eyes, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He was a man who carried the burden of his family’s history on his shoulders, and now it was crumbling, piece by piece.

"I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this, Dee," he admitted, his voice strained. "What if he takes everything? What if I fail?"

I shook my head, refusing to let him fall into that trap. "You’re stronger than you think, Yemi. You always have been. And you’re not alone in this."

I touched his face, tracing the lines of worry that had deepened over the past few days. "We’re in this together. We fight together. You won’t lose. We won’t lose."

I could see the doubt in his eyes slowly begin to fade, replaced by the fire I knew was still there. He was ready to fight. I could see it in every part of him.

But as we turned to head inside, a sharp knock echoed from the front gate. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My pulse quickened.

Yemi froze. "Who the hell is that?"

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My instincts were screaming at me to stay calm, to not jump to conclusions. But there was something about that knock, something about the way the gate rattled, that made my stomach churn.

Yemi stepped forward, his hand going to the door. "Stay behind me," he ordered, but I could hear the tremor in his voice.

I wanted to protest. To argue that I was just as capable as him. But I didn’t. I stayed where I was, holding my breath.

When the door opened, the figure standing there took my breath away.

It was Victor Langston.

He was standing on Yemi’s doorstep, wearing a smug smile that made my blood run cold.

"I think we have a lot to discuss," Victor said, his voice as cold and calculating as I remembered. "Don’t you?"