Ochieng sat back in his leather chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as Victoria's words echoed in his mind. Rolex wasn't just coming for his empire—he was coming for his life.
He glanced at the drink in front of him but didn't touch it. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Victoria.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Victoria's red lips curled into a sly smile. "Because I know what happens when two kings go to war. One falls. And I have no intention of being on the losing side."
Ochieng chuckled, his deep voice laced with amusement. "So, you're choosing me?"
"For now."
He leaned forward. "Then prove it."
Victoria's smile didn't waver as she slid a USB drive across the table. "Everything Rolex has been planning. His offshore accounts, his supply chains, his hidden investors. You'll find everything you need to burn him to the ground."
Ochieng picked up the drive, weighing it in his palm. Trusting Victoria was dangerous, but information was power.
He met her gaze. "If this is a trap, Victoria—"
"You'll kill me?" she interrupted, tilting her head playfully. "Ochieng, darling, we both know you wouldn't waste a bullet on me."
Ochieng's lips twitched. "Don't tempt me."
---
Meanwhile – Rolex's Private Villa
Rolex sat in his lavish study, watching the live feed from his hidden cameras. Victoria was with Ochieng. Talking. Smiling. Handing him something.
His jaw tightened. "The little snake."
Brian, who was seated across from him, laughed. "I told you she'd play both sides."
Rolex exhaled, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. "Let her. It won't change the outcome. Ochieng is already a dead man walking."
Brian leaned forward. "So, what's the next move?"
Rolex tapped his fingers on the desk. "Hit him where it hurts. His businesses, his allies… and his heart."
Brian raised an eyebrow. "His heart?"
Rolex's smirk deepened. "Find out who he really cares about. Then make sure they don't live to see the end of this war."
---
Ochieng's Penthouse – An Hour Later
Ochieng stared at the city skyline, the weight of the war ahead pressing against his chest.
Then his phone rang.
He answered. "Talk."
Shalom's voice was sharp. "Boss, we have a problem. Someone took Lucy."
Silence. Cold. Deadly.
Ochieng's fingers tightened around the phone. "Who?"
"We don't know. But they left a message."
"What message?"
A pause. Then Shalom said, "It was signed… Rolex."
Ochieng's knuckles turned white. The war had just become personal.
And he was going to make sure Rolex regretted ever breathing.