Her eyes shimmered with tears as he squeezed her hand in response, then lifted it and tracked it to his chest, over his beating heart.
She gazed at him, then down to his hand where their ring fingers were entwined, and smiled.
SABA
Master manipulators like Tewa thrived on control.
The rush of power was their drug, their pride so bloated it convinced them the weak existed only to be used, bent, and broken.
Tewa had made a habit of exploiting everyone within reach.
His greed wasn’t circumstantial; it was calculated.
His deceit had wrecked lives, and the rot at his core ran deep, a narcissistic, antisocial pathology too far gone to unlearn.
But today, his nieces had decided it would come to an end.
One way or another, they would be the ones to stop him.
For good.
Shiloh and Saba sat in Zolan’s office, framed by his bookshelf.
The air outside was filled with the soft hum of insects and the distant chirping of birds.
Rays from the late afternoon sun draped over the room, bathing everything in a warm, dreamlike glow.
As the light filtered through the window, it danced on the walls, creating a sense of tranquil magic within the space.
This starkly contrasted with the rage Shiloh and Saba shared at their uncle’s machinations.
Saba turned to Shiloh. ‘Ready?’
After a long chat with Zolan, Shiloh had calmed down and had switched her ire to Tewa, realizing with every minute what a master manipulator he’d been all their lives.
She nodded, her eyes hardened. ‘Let’s do this,’ she clipped, rubbing her baby bump.
Zolan, leaning on the wall in front of them and out of the camera frame, shot her a glance of concern.
It was clear the man loved her and would kill for her. ‘It’s time for Tewa to face the finding out part of -.’
‘Fokkedaround,’ Mak added with a smirk, standing beside him. ‘Funny, it’s what I thought I’d be saying to you.’
The men shared a grin, and Saba pressed her lips together, hiding her delight that these two age-old enemies were getting along.
Hope soared as Shiloh and Saba exchanged glances of relief and gratitude.
But they couldn’t celebrate yet. They had one more task to complete.
They dialed Tewa’s line.
He answered after three short rings, his face wreathed in smiles.
He was seated at his drawing room table, flanked by glass shelves weighted with the gross, ostentatious gold figurines he liked collecting.
Saba suppressed the desire to let loose at him with a tirade of insults.
Instead, she put on her act, sniffed, and wiped imaginary tears from her eyes as she gazed at the hapless man.
