The air in the private lounge was thick with wealth, cigars, and aged liquor. It wasn't just a room, it was a statement. From the silver-lined ashtrays to the antique clock ticking softly on the mantel, everything in it whispered one truth: Power lives here.
Alhaji Jalloh sat at the head of the velvet-trimmed table, flanked by two men in tailored suits who had mastered the art of looking both unassuming and lethal. He swirled the dark amber liquid in his glass slowly, his eyes fixed on the door.
When it opened, he didn't rise. He never had to.
Sarah Cole stepped in, heels clicking confidently across the Persian rug. She wore a high-waisted pencil skirt and a silk blouse that shimmered beneath the chandelier. Her makeup was subtle, precise, but her eyes were sharp. Unapologetically sharp.
"Alhaji," she said with a casual familiarity, like they were old friends meeting after a long time.
He offered the faintest nod as she took a seat without being asked.
"You're a bold one," Alhaji murmured, voice a low rumble, lips curling into a half-smile. "John said you were interesting. I see he undersold it."
Sarah's smile was cool and unreadable. "I'm not here to be interesting. I'm here for a partnership."
Alhaji took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers. "And what makes you think you're qualified to demand a partnership with me?"
Her gaze didn't flinch. "Because I can give you what you want. Daniel Lewis… undone."
Alhaji leaned back, intrigued now. "That's a tall offer from the man's sister-in-law."
Sarah rolled her eyes lightly. "Not by choice. But that label's done nothing but drag me through public shame. I think it's time to return the favor."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a slim USB drive, setting it gently on the table.
"Preliminary numbers and strategy slides for a potential transport-security collaboration with the Ministry of Energy," she said. "LewisTech's marketing department has been in private talks. It's not public yet, no signatures, just internal drafts."
Alhaji raised a brow as he studied the drive. "And how did you get this?"
"How I got it is not your tea to sip," she replied coolly, crossing her legs. She left out the part where she'd slipped into the marketing head's office during a mid-level reshuffle and made a quick copy. Timing was everything.
Alhaji chuckled, sliding the USB toward him. "So what's your angle? Why bring this to me?"
Her fingers laced across her chest as a small smile tugged at her lips. "Because your company can make a faster, cleaner offer. Because Daniel won't see it coming. And because I want him to regret ever underestimating me. Every smirk, every insult, every humiliation, I want him to bleed for it."
He studied her then. Not just the data she'd brought, but the woman behind it, the composure, the ambition masked in elegance, the rage that glittered beneath control.
"And what do you want in return?" he asked.
"For now?" She leaned back, a glint in her eye. "Just to watch him lose."
Alhaji laughed, the sound deep and amused, not mocking, not quite. "You've got bite. I admire that."
His eyes lingered just a second too long, tracing the shape of her lips, the confident tilt of her chin. It wasn't lust, not yet. Just curiosity. Interest.
"You should come to more of these meetings," he added, his voice low and smooth. "The room could use… sharper conversation."
Sarah tilted her head slightly, reading the layers behind his words. She didn't flirt back. Not yet. She let the tension hang, warm, subtle, deliberate.
"Maybe I will," she said. "If the company's worth my time."
Alhaji grinned. "Trust me. It will be."
She stood, eyes locked on his. "I'll hold you to that. But until then, consider me your inside man. I want a front-row seat to watch him fall."
Alhaji nodded slowly, the grin never leaving his face.
"Welcome aboard, Ms. Cole."
It was nearing noon when Daniel finally stepped into his office. He looked sharp as always, tailored dark blue suit, shirt crisp, tie loosened slightly, but his eyes were shadowed. The past few weeks had been heavier than usual, and though he rarely showed strain, today it lingered around his jaw.
The Sentinel-X prototype had hit a wall again, software lag. And he still hadn't shaken off the sense that something was… off. No alarms. Just instinct.
His assistant, Grace, appeared in the doorway, tablet in hand, her voice carefully neutral. "You have a call waiting. From the Ministry of Transport. Line one."
Daniel's brow furrowed. "Put it through," he said, already stepping behind his desk.
He picked up the receiver. "Lewis."
"Mr. Lewis." The voice on the other end was cool, measured. A man Daniel had worked with before, not cold, but not exactly friendly. "Just calling to inform you the contract for the International Airport Security Upgrade has been awarded."
Daniel straightened slightly. "To LewisTech?"
A pause.
"No, sir. The board finalized this morning. Jalloh Global presented a revised proposal, faster delivery timeline, leaner costs. They've secured it."
The silence on Daniel's end was weighty.
"I see," he finally said.
"We appreciate your submission, of course. The offer was strong… just not the strongest."
Daniel let out a quiet breath through his nose. "Understood. Thank you for the call."
He hung up, fingers resting on the desk, unmoving.
A full ten seconds passed.
Grace's voice cut in through the intercom. "Shall I move your next meeting forward, sir?"
"No." His voice was calm. Too calm. "Cancel it."
He stood, turned to the window. Outside, the city pulsed with motion, cars, clouds, shadows. But inside, for the first time in a long while, something felt still. Heavy.
LewisTech didn't lose bids. Not like this. And certainly not to Jalloh.
Not unless someone had helped them.
His jaw tightened as he stared out, his mind already running through departments, names, timelines. Everything had been locked down, hadn't it?
No proof. No evidence. Not yet.
Just… a crack.
The first one.
And right at that moment, Sarah returned to deliver the staff orders, her phone buzzing softly in her pocket. She quietly set each item down in exact alignment with her notes. Around her, voices erupted chaotically, ringing from one ear to the other, each demanding to be served first.
But inside her, there was silence.
The calm, weightless silence that follows a successful strike.
She didn't gloat.
She didn't smile.
She simply finished her task, turned, and walked out, quietly, deliberately, her eyes fixed on her phone, reading the headline again.
LewisTech had lost.
Not just any project, the project.
The airport security contract.
The one they were supposed to win.
The one they had built their pride on.
And now, it was gone.
Taken by Jalloh.
The loss would sting, deeply.
Near the manager's office, a low murmur began. Then came the shift, heads turning, glances exchanged. Harriet walked by with her phone in hand, whispering to a colleague. Confusion spread like ripples in a still pond.
Sarah kept her head down, her eyes lingering on a line of text she wasn't really reading.
Across the room, someone was watching.
Moses, the team lead, stood in the doorway. His gaze swept the room, pausing just a heartbeat too long on Sarah. She felt it, heavy, curious, but didn't look up. Instead, she flipped a page in her notebook and calmly scribbled a note on a sticky.
Let him wonder.
Let them all wonder.
Because that was the art of war, never show your hand.
Not until it's too late.
And Sarah Cole…
had only just begun.
Meanwhile, Esther was in her office. It was the second week since she had been posted as a child psychologist at Central Hospital.
She had just finished with her third patient for the morning when the door to her office swung open. In walked a familiar face.
"Can you believe her?" Dija's voice rang out as she threw herself into the chair in front of Esther's desk. "That woman is impossible," she continued, dropping her bag onto the floor.
Esther silently watched her friend, listening and observing her moment of rant. As a psychologist, she knew better than to interrupt.
"Mom has finally crossed the line," Dija said again, grabbing the glass of water Esther offered her. "Thanks," she muttered after gulping half of it down.
"Okay," Esther began, calm and cautious. "Mind telling me what your mom did this time?"
Dija huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "Can you believe she asked Thomas to be a live-in son-in-law?" she exclaimed, flinging her arms in the air with a dramatic sigh. "Do you have any idea what it was like to stand there and listen to her absurd request? She said she would only accept our relationship if Thomas moved in with us!"
Esther nodded. "I see. And Thomas, what did he say?"
"What would he say?" Dija's voice lashed out, laced with both pain and embarrassment. Her mother had called, asking her to bring Thomas over. Dija had hoped it meant her mother was finally going to accept their relationship, their love. Her father, Kabil, had even spoken to her mother, trying to convince her to let their daughter be with the man she loved.
She had hoped for peace, for acknowledgment. Instead, she was met with something else entirely.
Her mother had confronted Thomas, presenting him with a ridiculous ultimatum: leave her daughter or become a live-in son-in-law.
Dija remembered the look on Thomas's face, his clenched jaw, the tight fists at his sides.
It had been such an embarrassment. For both of them.
"I don't know what to do, Esther. My mom just doesn't get it. I swear she did this to provoke Thomas, to drive us apart," Dija said, having had enough.
"Maybe," Esther replied gently, "but have you taken a moment to consider your mother's motives? Maybe she truly believes she's doing what's best for you."
"You can't be serious. Are you actually taking her side?"
"I'm not," Esther said carefully. "I just want you to understand where she's coming from. She was against you being with Thomas, and now she's trying to compromise, even if the condition is difficult to accept. But what if… instead of fighting it, you used her offer to your advantage?"
Dija leaned forward, curiosity replacing her scowl. "Hold on. That's… beginning to make sense. But how exactly would that help?"
"Imagine living under the same roof as the man you love," Esther began, a small smile playing on her lips. "Think of what that could mean. The bond it could deepen. The things you'd learn about each other."
"Sounds nice," Dija said slowly. "But you've met my mom. I promise you, this is just her way of keeping an eye on us. She'll use every opportunity to keep us apart."
"True," Esther admitted. "But you can also use this opportunity to show her how strong your relationship is. Show her your resilience and the depth of your love. Take this as your love quest, your challenge to overcome."
"It's a good plan," Dija agreed, nodding. "But I'm afraid Thomas won't accept it."
Esther paused. That might be true. Thomas was a proud man, grounded in his values and dignity. The idea of being seen as a "live-in son-in-law" would be hard for him to swallow.
"But if he loves you," Esther said simply, "he'll understand and accept."
Knock.
The door opened, and a lady walked in with a polite smile. She turned to Esther.
"Ma'am,
"That's my cue," Dija said, rising to her feet.
"I'll walk you out," Esther offered, leading the way to the door.
As they strolled down the corridor toward the reception, Dija still muttering about her mother's antics, a familiar voice called out.
"Esther."
She turned toward the sound, her steps slowing. The man who stood there was older, his hair touched with grey, yet his posture was as commanding as ever.
Dr. Sesay.
"I want you to meet someone," he said, motioning toward the tall figure beside him. "This is Steven Coker. He's just returned from the UK and will be your colleague, and supervisor."
Esther's eyes met the man's.
Time stopped.
Six years.
That's how long it had been since she last saw him, Steven Coker. The same Steven who had been her senior in school. The one she used to watch from across the library, one she had wrote letters to. The one she crushed on, who'd left for England before he could reply her confession.
Her heart gave a strange flutter, but her face stayed composed. Barely.
He looked different now. Broader. Sharper around the jaw. There was a subtle authority in his stance, a calm confidence in his eyes. But the most disarming thing was that he still had the same way of looking at her. Like he saw too much. Like time hadn't passed at all.
"Steven, I want you to meet.."
"Esther Cole," he said before Sesay could finish the introduction. His voice was smooth. Familiar. Measured.
"You two know each other?" Sesay asked, eyes bouncing between them.
Steven didn't hesitate. "We were classmates," he said, though Esther caught the slight pause in his tone. A silent acknowledgment of everything that wasn't being said.
Esther managed a small nod. "A long time ago," she added, her voice even, but quiet.
"Wow," Dija stepped in, oblivious to the shift in the air. "Steven! How long has it been?" She reached out, shaking the hand that Steven had first offered to Esther. "You've really grown up. This is a serious glow-up."
Steven chuckled politely, his eyes not leaving Esther. "Nice to see you again, Dija."
Esther glanced away, subtly folding her arms. "Welcome to Central Hospital," she said at last, a practiced professionalism settling over her. "I'm sure we'll work well together."
"I'm sure we will," Steven replied, but his tone carried something else, something heavier than the words.
And she knew.
He remembered.
"Uncle D is in big hot trouble" Dija muttered as they walked away.