Daniel stepped back into the dining room, his face unreadable. Esther looked up at him, eyes still soft from their earlier exchange.
"Everything okay?" she asked gently.
He nodded once, setting the phone aside. "Just something work-related. I'll handle it."
There was a brief silence before Esther spoke again, cautious but hopeful. "About the picnic…"
Daniel met her gaze, and for a moment, the war in his mind was visible in his eyes.
"I still don't like it," he said slowly. "But… if you're going, you'll take two guards. Armed. I'll have them blend in, keep a distance, but they won't leave your side. That's the only way I'm letting this happen."
Esther blinked, surprised, and grateful. A smile touched her lips as she nodded. "Deal."
He exhaled and gave a small shake of his head. "You're stubborn, you know that?"
She laughed under her breath. "You wouldn't love me otherwise."
Just then, Dija strolled in, her usual confident energy trailing behind her, along with Mather, who had answered the door.
"Good morning, beautiful people," she sang, already halfway to the table. "Oh wow—actual breakfast on the table?" she added, brows arched as she scanned their faces.
"Dad made it," Betty announced proudly.
"You're serious?" Dija chuckled, but the sound trailed off the moment she caught Daniel's stern expression. She cleared her throat and quickly adjusted her tone. "Uncle D," she greeted, sliding into one of the chairs. "Since when did the sun rise from the west?"
Daniel offered a small smile as he stood. "Morning, Dija. I'll take that as a compliment."
She laughed nervously. "It was," she lied, snatching a slice of toast before leaning closer to Esther. "Are you sure Uncle D made this?" she whispered, eyes narrowing suspiciously as she chewed the perfectly scrambled eggs.
Esther smiled and nodded. "Yes, he did."
Dija's eyes widened in mock shock. "He did? Okay, someone's either making up for a fight… or hiding a body."
Daniel gave her a dry look. "Or maybe I just love my family."
"Absolutely," Dija grinned, then turned back to Esther with a playful whisper. "We should check if it's really him in there. Might be an imposter."
"Dija, you're a terrible whisperer," Esther said with a laugh.
"I'm serious. An alien might've taken over his body."
"Did you watch another alien movie last night?"
"Actually, yes. A really good one," Dija beamed, proudly forking a sausage from the platter.
Esther shook her head, amused. Her friend's mind was truly a case study on its own.
Daniel rolled his eyes with a smirk and leaned down to kiss Esther's temple. "I need to get ready for work."
Esther looked up and gently squeezed his hand. "Thanks again… for agreeing."
He gave her hand a squeeze, then glanced at Betty, who was already halfway through her sausage . "And you, little madam, behave for your mom, alright?"
"Yes, sir!" Betty saluted, earning a laugh from Dija.
Daniel shook his head with a quiet smile, then walked out of the dining room, leaving the ladies to their breakfast.
Dija leaned in with a teasing smirk. "Someone's in love."
Esther waved her off with a small smile, brushing away the comment. "Forget about me. How have you been?"
"Good," Dija replied casually, still focused on the sausage in front of her.
"And Thomas?" Esther asked, her tone more pointed now. It had been a while since she'd heard any real update about their situation—or the arrangement of Thomas staying in her family home.
Dija let out a small sigh, already anticipating where the conversation was headed. "Well… the whole moving-in thing isn't exactly the dream I hoped for." Her voice faltered a little. "Mom still has issues with him. Not a day goes by without her trying to tear us apart with her words."
She glanced away, swallowing the lump in her throat. "She keeps reminding him of how little he has, how he's feeding off his girlfriend. Morning, night… it's like a prayer to her."
Esther's face softened. She knew Dija's mother could be harsh, but hearing it again still stung.
"That woman has a mind of her own," Dija continued bitterly, gulping down her juice. "One no one can reason with. Trust me, I've tried."
The air in the police station was thick with a quiet tension, broken only by the occasional shuffle of officers and the metallic clink of keys. Musu sat stiffly on the metal bench outside the temporary holding cells, her hands clenched tightly around her handbag. A few minutes passed before an officer called her name and gestured toward the visitation area.
She followed slowly, her heart heavy, her feet dragging as if she could delay the confrontation just a little longer. When she finally stepped inside the visitation room, Sarah was already waiting on the other side of the glass, looking pale and disheveled in the worn-out detention uniform. Her eyes lit up briefly when she saw her mother.
Musu lowered herself into the seat with a quiet sigh. "How've you been?" she asked gently, concern softening her voice.
Sarah scoffed, her eyes sharp beneath tired lids. "How do I look?" she snapped, arms folding tightly across her chest.
Musu didn't respond. She understood—Sarah wasn't angry at her, not really. It was the weight of confinement, the sting of lost freedom, that made her lash out.
"I've tried," Musu began carefully, her fingers curling around the strap of her handbag, "several lawyers, law firms… but.." she paused, her eyes drifting to the cold floor between them, "no one is willing."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "No lawyer?" she cut in, her voice rising with disbelief.
Musu shook her head. "None will touch your case. I've begged, pleaded. But they all say the same thing, the evidence is overwhelming. And now, with the news everywhere, no one wants their name attached to it."
Sarah's face twisted, a mixture of frustration and fear creeping into her expression. "What about Zainab?"
"She's not interested," Musu replied softly, shame lacing her tone. "She said… you brought this on yourself."
Sarah let out a sharp breath and leaned back against the cold bench. "Of course she did," she muttered under her breath. In her mind, Zainab had always been distant. And now, with trouble finally finding her, Sarah was certain Zainab had used it as her perfect excuse to sever ties for good.
"I don't need her," she added bitterly. "Let her stay away. That's what she's best at."
"She's hurt, Sarah," Musu said quietly, glancing toward the nearby officer. "We all are."
There was a pause, a heavy silence that pressed between them.
"And you?" Sarah asked suddenly, her voice lower now, almost brittle. "Are you hurt too?"
Musu hesitated, caught off guard. She didn't know how to answer. Didn't know what was right anymore. The daughter in front of her was a far cry from the child she once knew, but even in her worst, she was still hers.
"I'm here, aren't I?" she said softly. "Fighting. Trying. That must count for something."
Sarah leaned forward again, eyes gleaming with frustration. "Ma, listen to me. The only person who can save me now is Esther. She has the influence, the power. If you talk to her, maybe, just maybe, she'll help."
Musu's eyes widened. "You want me to ask Esther? The same person you tried to destroy? After everything you've done to her?"
"You think I don't know that?" Sarah snapped, her voice rising. "You think I don't regret it?" She dropped her gaze, teeth biting down on her bottom lip. "But this place… it's not meant for people like me."
Musu looked away, her jaw tightening. She couldn't bring herself to say yes, not to this. Yes, she wanted her daughter free, but not at the cost of hurting Esther. Not by asking her to help the very person who had plotted her downfall. That wasn't just unfair, it was cruel. And Musu knew it.
"Ma…" Sarah's voice softened, pulling her attention back. She leaned in closer, desperation clinging to every word. "I know I sound selfish, but I'm scared. I don't want to rot away in here."
She paused, searching her mother's eyes. "Once this case goes to court, it's over for me. I'll be gone for decades. They won't keep me here in this holding cell, I'll be sent to the big jail. Do you know what happens there? The kind of things that go on behind those walls?. Women beaten, raped, humiliated." Her voice cracked slightly. "You want that for your daughter?"
Musu blinked hard, her eyes filling with tears.
"I'm your child too," Sarah pressed, her voice dropping to a hard whisper. "Your blood. If something happens to me in there… if I die in there, it'll be on you, Ma. Because you didn't fight for me. You chose her, a pickup daughter with no real background, over your own flesh and blood."
The words sliced deep, thick with guilt and resentment. Musu stood slowly, her hands trembling as they clutched her bag to her chest. Her heart warred with itself, between motherly instinct and moral reasoning, between guilt and the knowledge of the pain Sarah had inflicted.
"I don't know, Sarah," she said weakly. "I don't know if I can ask Esther for this."
"You have to," Sarah said, her voice suddenly soft, almost broken. "Please, Ma. Just talk to her. I don't want to die in here."
Musu stared at her daughter, this child of hers she no longer recognized, and without another word, she turned and walked out, her steps uncertain, her soul caught in a war she never saw coming.
At another end, The annual Sierra FutureTech Summit was a magnet for Africa's leading innovators, government officials, and digital empire builders, techpreneurs whose footprints reached beyond silicon and software into politics, oil, logistics, and even the murky shadows of control. A neutral battlefield for business deals, keynote speeches, and quiet, loaded conversations behind champagne flutes.
Daniel's tailored suit blended effortlessly into the sea of CEOs and international investors, but his presence stood out, commanding, unmistakable. As he moved through the crowd, heads turned, conversations paused. He walked like a man who wielded both power and purpose.
"Okay, start talking."
The voice came from behind, catching Daniel slightly off guard. He turned to see Sankoh, arms crossed and one brow arched in curiosity.
"How are you even here?" Sankoh continued, clearly surprised. "The great Daniel Lewis, among the very people who spend half their lives trying to land five minutes with him?"
Daniel smirked, nodding briefly at a man who waved in passing. "What exactly are you implying?"
Sankoh stepped beside him. "Come on, Lewis. You and I both know you don't do gatherings like this. How many years has it been since you were last spotted at a tech summit?"
"I've been busy," Daniel said coolly, his eyes scanning the crowd. "But today, I made time."
"That's… convenient," Sankoh said with a chuckle, though something about Daniel's tone suggested this wasn't just a casual appearance. He wasn't buying it.
Then, switching tone slightly, Sankoh added, "By the way… thank you. For the investment. Really." His voice held sincerity, a rare softness beneath the usual wit. "No one wanted to touch that project. But you came through."
Daniel turned to him, expression unreadable. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for my sister-in-law. She seems to believe in your future, so I figured it was worth backing."Daniel said, alluding pointedly to Sankoh's official status as Zainab's boyfriend.
Sankoh chuckled, the tension easing. "Right. Of course. Wouldn't want her stuck with a bankrupt man, now would we?"
"Exactly," Daniel replied, deadpan.
They shared a brief laugh, but only one of them was genuinely amused.
Just then, Daniel's eyes found the man he'd come for.
Alhaji Jalloh.
Standing at the far end of the sleek, glass-walled lobby beneath a massive LED screen advertising a new AI-driven supply chain tracker. He was flanked by other tech elites, but it was clear he stood alone in his power.
"Excuse me," Daniel said to Sankoh, who had watched him in growing suspense. Without waiting for a response, Daniel moved with purpose, grounded and exact.
As Daniel approached, Alhaji turned slightly, already sensing the tension.
"Never thought I'd see you out in the open," Alhaji said with a cool smile, swirling the drink in his glass.
"Had to come. This is the only place you're not hiding," Daniel replied, his gaze unflinching, voice calm but edged.
Alhaji chuckled, already anticipating the direction of the conversation.
"Lewis, you know me. I don't run from the spotlight… or the shadows."
Daniel didn't flinch.
"Getting rid of John won't save you from what's coming."
Alhaji lifted a brow, feigning surprise.
"That's quite the accusation, especially in a room full of CEOs and cameras. Unless, of course… you have proof?"
Daniel's lips curled into a tight smile as he stepped closer.
"You might've destroyed the evidence, but I'll find more. I still have your bed-warmer."
For the first time, the amusement in Alhaji's eyes dimmed.
From a short distance away, Sankoh's hand tightened around his glass. His jaw flexed, but he kept a smile plastered on his face, watching intently.
"And who would that be, Lewis?" Alhaji asked, his tone flat, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. The entire industry knew about Sarah's arrest by now.
"I assume all those trade secrets and internal trademarks she sold you didn't land you the contracts you thought they would," Daniel said, reading every flicker of Alhaji's face.
Alhaji's expression remained composed, but Daniel caught the flicker, the twitch in the corner of his brow, the glance that darted left before returning.
"And what makes you think she ever shared anything with me?" Alhaji replied smoothly, gambling on silence and denial. He was certain Sarah hadn't cracked. Not yet. She had always been the greedy but careful type.
"You're betting everything on her silence." Daniel's smile was cold. "But even shadows leave traces, and trust me, I've already started following them."
"For old time's sake, Lewis," Alhaji continued, voice cooling, "you should be careful. Throwing around unsubstantiated claims like this? You might find yourself in court for defamation."
Daniel leaned in just enough. His voice dropped, but the warning rang loud."I don't throw accusations, Alhaji. I build cases. And since you fired the first shot, know this, I fight back."
Alhaji's fingers tightened around his glass. He took a slow step back, recalibrating. Then, almost casually, he spoke, voice low and lined with threat.
"Well then, congratulations. I hear you got married." He paused, eyes narrowing. "And your daughter… she's speaking again. A miracle, really."
Daniel's expression barely shifted, but the steel in his gaze darkened, hard, lethal.
Alhaji's smile returned, wider this time, but colder.
"Just be careful, Lewis. Strange things tend to happen. A near-assault on your wife… your daughter losing her voice… Tragedy moves fast when no one's watching. I'd keep my eyes on them, if I were you. Something like that? Might just happen again."
Daniel stepped in, so close their suits nearly brushed. His voice dropped, cutting and controlled. "You so much as breathe in their direction… and you won't just lose your company. You'll lose everything. Your family. Your name. Your legacy. I'll burn it all to the ground."
For the first time, Alhaji's smile wavered, just slightly.
His eyes flicked toward a nearby journalist snapping photos discreetly from across the room, then back to Daniel with a calm that was all performance.
"We'll see, Mr. Tech Messiah. Do your best."
Daniel's lips curved into a smile, tight, fearless.
"I always do."
The two men turned and walked off in opposite directions, the air between them still hot with the weight of everything unspoken.
The war had no bullets yet. But it had begun.
And as Alhaji moved back into the crowd, surrounded by handshakes and hollow praise, one thought pulsed behind his composed expression. Daniel wasn't someone to take lightly, but neither was he.
It wasn't just about avenging his dead son anymore. It was about legacy, power, supremacy.
He wasn't just going to prove Daniel wrong, he was going to prove to the world that he was better.
And this time, the world would watch them both bleed.