Alex made it just in time—before his son could tear the entire house apart or worse, rip out the heart of his young wife. Rhys stood in the center of the room, his presence an oppressive force. His rage was barely contained, simmering just beneath his skin like a ticking time bomb. Jennifer, trembling, immediately darted behind her husband for protection.
"I asked her to move it. Calm down," Alex said, his voice firm but measured.
Rhys turned his deadly gaze to his father. The expression on his face was not one of mere anger—it was pure, seething hatred. He had no interest in playing the blame game. He never liked Jennifer, never respected her.
She was nothing more than a living reminder of his mother and sister's deaths. Had Alex not been fooling around with her at the time, he might have reached his mother and sister in time to save them. That guilt would never leave him, and neither would his resentment.
"Where is it?" Rhys' voice was dangerously low, his tone sharp as a blade.
Alex exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging. He had hoped—prayed—that there would be a way to mend the fractured relationship between them. But every time they met, it only seemed to splinter further. "We had to empty the room because of a leak in the roof. The shoebox wasn't the only thing moved, as you've seen."
"We planned to put everything back exactly the way you left it once the repairs were done," Jennifer added timidly, her voice shaking as she clutched Alex's sleeve, still using him as a shield.
Rhys dismissed their explanations without so much as a flicker of emotion. His eyes bore into them like twin daggers. "Where. Is. It?"
Alex knew better than to argue when his son was like this. No words would reach him now. With a resigned sigh, he turned to one of the older maids, Martha.
"Martha," he called.
The elderly woman, in her late seventies, nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Within moments, she returned, cradling the small, worn shoebox in her frail hands.
Rhys grabbed it the moment she held it out, his fingers running over the ribbon securing it. The knot was untouched. No one had tampered with it. A silent sigh of relief passed through him, but the storm inside him hadn't settled.
He dragged a chair and sat down, his presence suffocating the room. The others stood frozen, barely daring to breathe as he tore the ribbon away. He inhaled deeply before lifting the lid.
There it was.
His most precious keepsakes, untouched. The last pictures he had taken with his mother and sister. A collection of tiny gifts his baby sister had given him. His breath hitched when he saw the ring candies—apple-flavoured, her favourite. A tear slipped down his chin as memories clawed their way into his chest. His sister had always shared one with him every day, saying she didn't want him to look sad.
He shook the box slightly, and something metallic caught the light. His breath stilled.
The necklace.
His fingers wrapped around it instinctively, pulling it free. It was just as pristine as the day his mother had given it to him. His initials gleamed in the dim light. He ran his fingers over the length of the chain until they reached the cold pendant. His heart pounded as he tugged at it.
A click.
Just as he had suspected.
It wasn't just a pendant—it was a flash drive.
Andy, ever perceptive, immediately grabbed a laptop from the nearby table. Without needing instruction, he took the flash drive, plugged it in, and positioned the laptop in front of Rhys. A video file automatically opened.
The moment the recording started playing, a familiar voice filled the room.
His mother's voice.
Alex sucked in a breath, stepping forward as if drawn by an invisible force. His eyes misted the moment his wife's face appeared on the screen. She was laughing, the warmth in her voice echoing through the years.
"So today, I made a bet with my son that I would film the most beautiful location in this city, and then we'd have a picnic here! I bragged so much about this place, and honestly, it is beautiful."
The camera panned to reveal a breathtaking landscape. A park with lush, vibrant flower beds. A waterfall cascading into a pool of crystal-blue water. The sunlight bathed everything in a golden glow.
Rhys felt his heart clench. He had forgotten about this day.
Suddenly, in the recording, his mother stiffened.
A grunt.
She turned, camera still rolling, following the sound.
A clearing came into view. A man hung five inches off the ground, wrists bound by a rope. He was completely naked, his body battered and bruised beyond recognition. Several large men surrounded him, taking turns punching him mercilessly.
His mother ducked behind a tree, the camera steady but capturing everything.
Rhys' grip on the laptop tightened.
One of the men yanked the prisoner's head up. The camera zoomed in, revealing his bloodied, swollen face.
The deceased mayor.
The same mayor who had supposedly died of an incurable heart disease.
A car rolled up. One of the men rushed over, bowing respectfully as he opened the door. A woman stepped out, removing her sunglasses. She walked forward with a confidence that sent a chill down Rhys' spine.
Donna.
"Gbenga, you were warned," she said, voice dripping with disdain. "But you thought, as a woman, I was someone you could ignore. How's that working out for you now?"
She gripped his hair, forcing his listless face to meet hers. She smirked.
"You should have listened. I still got what I wanted, but you? You're dead."
The gunshot rang through the speakers.
A headshot. Point-blank.
Rhys clenched his jaw so hard it ached.
Donna turned to her men. "Bury this trash. Tell his family he died from a contagious heart disease. Make sure the doctor signs off on it. Cremate a pig, give the widow the ashes."
"Yes, Mrs. D!" they chorused before getting to work.
Another car pulled up. Eddie stepped out. But he wasn't alone.
Biyi Kene of the Romano Syndicate. Viktor Azi from the Moretti Clan.
And a child.
A little girl, no older than six or seven, her tiny hand nestled in Viktor's.
Rhys' blood turned ice cold.
Viktor greeted Donna with a kiss on each cheek before she turned her attention to the child, scooping her up in her arms.
"Did you have fun with Daddy?"
The little girl giggled. "Yes, Mommy!"
Rhys felt like the world had tilted on its axis.
Jasmine.
No matter how much people grow, some childhood features never change. He recognised her.
His ex-girlfriend.
His mind raced, the puzzle pieces rearranging themselves into a picture he never wanted to see. Donna and Viktor had a child together. That child was Jasmine. And yet, she had pretended to be nothing more than a normal girl, an innocent bystander in all of this.
It had all been a lie.
Andy, standing beside him, sucked in a sharp breath. Even he couldn't conceal his shock.
Back in the video, Viktor's voice rang out. "So, is it settled?"
Donna smirked. "Get ready to ship them in."
The camera wobbled slightly as his mother shifted, the sun glinting off the lens and sending a ray of light downward.
Someone looked up.
Then the video cut.
Rhys didn't say a word.
He stood, removed the flash drive, and pocketed it. Without looking at anyone, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door.
"Rhys!" Alex called, desperation in his tone. But his son was deaf to it.
Andy followed, silent as the grave.
Moments later, the car roared to life, and in the blink of an eye, Rhys was gone.
He had seen enough.
**********************************************************************************
''Padrino...''
Andy's voice was low, hesitant as he rapped his knuckles against the heavy wooden door. His pulse quickened slightly at the silence that followed. The room beyond that door had been engulfed in darkness for the past five hours, and Rhys had not moved from his chair once. He hadn't spoken, hadn't called for anyone—not even Lia. The only sound from inside was the occasional clink of glass against wood.
Andy knew better than to disturb him, but this was urgent.
He took a slow breath, reaching for his phone as it vibrated against his palm. One glance at the caller ID and his entire demeanour shifted.
''Hello…''
His voice was measured, but his expression darkened immediately. ''When did this happen?''
His fingers tightened around the phone.
His gaze flicked to the image that popped up on his screen—his breath hitched for a moment. Jasmine. The woman who had once held a piece of Rhys' heart.
''I see. Thank you for the info.''
His voice dropped an octave.
''Be careful. Things are going to accelerate… lay low and don't draw attention. I'll handle it from here.''
He ended the call with a sharp exhale. His jaw clenched as he turned to one of his subordinates, whispering orders before the man swiftly exited.
Steeling himself, Andy turned back to the closed door.
''Padrino,'' he called again, pushing the door open when he received no response.
The room was suffocatingly dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of city lights filtering through half-closed curtains. Rhys was still seated in the same spot, an untouched glass of whiskey on the table before him. His posture was relaxed, almost eerily so, as he stared blankly into the void.
Andy stepped in, his boots barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. He bowed slightly before speaking.
''Jerry was a spy planted by Donna. He worked as one of her hidden guards—specifically trained for infiltration.''
There was no change in Rhys' expression.
Andy swallowed before continuing, ''He's been dealt with. As for the video… it was indeed Mayor Nda.''
A flicker of something—maybe recognition, maybe anger—passed through Rhys' eyes, but it vanished just as quickly.
Andy inhaled deeply, preparing for the full report.
''Donna and Viktor's partnership started thirty years ago. At the time, Donna's father never trusted her to lead the Khaos Family. He wanted her brother to take over instead. The men in the family didn't respect her. Desperate, she orchestrated her brother's death and used his son, Eddie, to gain public sympathy. She raised him as her own, securing her position as the new leader. Once she had solidified her hold on the family, she made an alliance with Viktor, using his influence within the Moretti Clan to silence opposition.''
Rhys exhaled softly, but his silence was louder than words. Andy continued.
''Donna ruled with an iron grip, but that wasn't enough for her. She and Viktor started working on something known as the NS Project. Viktor had acquired a nanotechnology capable of real-time disease detection in the bloodstream. Hospitals and research facilities wanted it, but Viktor had other plans. He saw the potential for it to be weaponised—to track, monitor, and even manipulate brain chemistry.''
Andy's hands clenched into fists.
''They needed Mayor Nda's approval, but he refused. He realised the implications, the level of control they'd have if they went through with it. He sent word to the Minister of Health to shut it down, but the Minister was already on Viktor's payroll. The betrayal was immediate. They couldn't touch Nda back then—he had too much backing. But ten years later, one of his biggest supporters died of a sudden heart attack. His protection crumbled, and that's when they moved in for the kill. They tried everything—bribes, blackmail—but Nda stood his ground. So they framed him. They manufactured a scandal, accused him of fraud, and destroyed his reputation before finally eliminating him under the guise of an incurable heart disease.''
Andy looked up, watching Rhys closely.
''While waiting for things to stabilise in the open, Donna found an underground black market to continue funding their operations. That's the money we thought Eddie was smuggling to Malta. But it wasn't just that… she also siphoned the Romano Syndicate's reserve funds. Money meant for them. Eddie took his cut, and when Donna found out…''
A dry chuckle escaped Rhys' lips. It was humourless. Dark.
''Eddie kicked the bucket a few weeks later.''
Andy nodded. ''All parts of Donna's plan''
Then, suddenly, Rhys started laughing. Maniacal. Unhinged. The sound sent an eerie chill through the room.
Andy remained still, waiting.
''So I was just a pawn in Donna's game all along?''
Rhys' laughter subsided into something even more unsettling—a cold smirk.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers intertwined. ''Tell me, Andy… have you ever felt like a rat in a maze?''
Andy didn't respond.
Rhys exhaled through his nose. ''Because that's exactly what I was. Donna led me through every twist and turn, and I danced right into her hands.''
His mind flashed back to the first time he met Donna. Fourteen years old. A lost, angry teenager who had just stormed out of another fight with his father. He had thought he was helping an elderly woman retrieve her stolen purse… but now, it was clear. She had orchestrated it all. She had been watching him for years, knowing his pain, and she had woven him into her web before he even had a chance to resist.
''And Jasmine…''
Andy's voice pulled him back. ''Just as we suspected, Jasmine Aku… is Donna's biological daughter with Viktor.''
Silence.
Andy took a breath and pushed forward. ''With what we found today, it's clear she was planted in your life. Her mission was to get close to you. Gain your trust, and we suspect that she needed information on the evidence your mom took. She probably thought she left it to you or that you might lead her to it. She made sure you two met as teenagers, knowing you'd bond over time. Everything was going smoothly until that night seven years ago. When the Mbalis attacked us, it wasn't random. Donna orchestrated the attack. She was frustrated Jasmine hadn't retrieved the evidence yet, so she used the Mbalis to cause chaos. They tore through our security, searching for the file. But what Donna didn't expect was for Jasmine to get caught in the crossfire, and you to genuinely not know about the evidence. She barely survived. And she stayed away, afraid to return to the City. But a week before she came back, we found out that Donna made contact. She must have given Jasmine another chance on her final orders.''
Rhys scoffed. His smirk widened. ''Of course. How meticulous.''
Andy hesitated before delivering the final blow. ''There's more.''
Rhys raised an eyebrow.
''Donna shot Jasmine.''
A flicker. The faintest trace of something in Rhys' eyes. It vanished so quickly that Andy questioned whether he had imagined it.
Rhys leaned back, exhaling as if it were merely an amusing anecdote. ''How cruel.''
A slow, deliberate chuckle escaped his lips. ''She wouldn't even spare her own flesh and blood. Tsk, tsk, tsk…''
And then, he stood.
Andy swallowed hard. Even in the dim light, Rhys' presence was suffocating. His kimono hung open, revealing sculpted abs, each muscle taut with restrained fury. He walked towards Andy, stopping just inches from him.
Rhys tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening into something chilling.
''I think we've been Donna's playthings for long enough.'' His voice dropped into a whisper. ''Shall we return the favour?''
A shiver ran down Andy's spine. He had seen many sides of Rhys before, but this one… He couldn't even predict. It was like an endless dark tunnel.
And Donna had better be prepared for what was coming for her.