The silence after the livestream was deafening.
Elijah sat frozen in front of the black screen, his pulse still hammering in his ears. The world knew now. No more secrets. No more hiding behind aliases or shadows.
Amina slowly closed the laptop, her fingers brushing over the keyboard with reverence, as if sealing a letter too sacred to reopen.
"It's done," she said quietly.
Elijah leaned back on the couch, exhaling the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "No, it's just begun."
Outside the cottage, the wind howled against the glass windows, but it was nothing compared to the storm Elijah had just unleashed.
---
In Nairobi, Grace watched the livestream on a wall-sized television screen inside her private study. Her face was stone cold, but her eyes… her eyes burned with pure fury.
One of her assistants trembled as he spoke.
"It's going viral. Over three million views in the first fifteen minutes. Hashtags are trending. News anchors are already picking it up."
Grace didn't blink.
"Kill it," she said.
The assistant hesitated. "We can't. Not now. It's been mirrored on too many platforms."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then kill him."
---
Back at the safehouse, Elijah and Amina didn't sleep that night.
They watched as the news spread like wildfire across Kenya and beyond. Daniel Mwangi's "death" now cast in doubt. Grace's control of the Mwangi Group crumbling. Investors in a frenzy. Politicians distancing themselves from her.
But there was something else too.
People were listening.
Comments poured in.
"We believe you, Elijah."
"Justice for your mother."
"Expose them all."
For the first time in years, Elijah didn't feel alone.
He felt seen.
But dawn came with a price.
---
At 5:43 a.m., a vehicle screeched to a halt outside the safehouse.
Before Elijah could react, the front door burst open.
Five men in black uniforms stormed in, rifles drawn, voices shouting over each other.
"ON THE FLOOR! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"
Amina screamed as Elijah instinctively shielded her.
"Wait!" he shouted. "We haven't done anything wrong!"
The lead officer pulled out a folded warrant. "Elijah Mwangi, you are under arrest for cybercrimes, corporate espionage, and inciting civil unrest."
"What?!"
"You have the right to remain silent."
"Who gave the order?" Elijah barked.
But he already knew.
Grace.
---
The holding cell was cold. Damp. Claustrophobic.
Elijah sat on the edge of the steel bench, staring at the cracks in the wall. His wrists were red from the cuffs. The charges were outrageous—fabricated, inflated, and meant to silence him.
But they weren't what haunted him.
It was Amina.
He didn't know where she was.
The officers had separated them at the gate.
He had begged, shouted, resisted. But they dragged him away.
And now, he was in the dark.
Was she safe?
Was she even alive?
---
Meanwhile, Amina sat inside a different room—narrower, cleaner, but no less terrifying.
Two plainclothes officers leaned against the wall while a woman in a grey suit tapped at a tablet.
"Miss Karim," the woman said, "you're listed as a direct accomplice in Elijah Mwangi's crimes. We need access to your personal devices."
"I don't have them," Amina replied, voice shaking. "They were destroyed during a break-in two days ago."
The woman didn't blink. "You were present during the livestream. That makes you complicit."
"I'm a journalist."
"You're a criminal."
Amina's heart raced. "Do I need a lawyer?"
The woman smirked. "You'll need a miracle."
---
Elijah's miracle came in the form of Elias Kibet.
The former CFO stormed into the precinct with a legal team behind him, armed with papers, injunctions, and fury.
"You have no legal grounds to hold him," Elias snapped. "And if you don't release him immediately, we'll be at the High Court by noon."
The commanding officer hesitated.
Then sighed.
"Release him."
---
An hour later, Elijah stumbled out into the sunlight.
Elias caught his shoulder. "Where's Amina?"
"They separated us," Elijah said, panicked. "I don't know if she's okay."
Elias frowned. "Let's find her."
They didn't have to look far.
On the other side of the station, Amina stood handcuffed to a bench, her face pale but composed.
Elijah ran to her.
"Amina!"
She looked up, eyes flooding with relief. "You're okay…"
"I'm here." He turned to the officers. "Get these off her. Now."
It took ten minutes, but eventually, they were free.
Together.
---
Back in Elias' car, Elijah's hands trembled as he held Amina's.
"I thought I lost you."
"You didn't."
He exhaled slowly. "They're going to keep coming. Harder. Dirtier."
She squeezed his hand. "Then we stay stronger."
He looked at her. "You're the only reason I made it through this."
She smiled faintly. "Then don't shut me out when it gets worse."
He nodded.
"I won't."
---
By the next day, Nairobi was in chaos.
Protests broke out near Mwangi Towers. Banners waved. Voices roared. People demanded answers.
"Where is Daniel Mwangi?"
"Arrest Grace!"
"We want the truth!"
But Grace wasn't hiding.
She was preparing.
---
At a private meeting with her remaining allies, Grace slammed her palm against the table.
"He's rallying the people. Turning them against us. This ends today."
One man coughed nervously. "There's an option… the offshore account logs. If leaked, we could paint Elijah as having embezzled from his father's dormant estates."
Grace's eyes narrowed. "How fast can we leak it?"
"Within an hour."
"Do it."
---
That night, another wave of news broke:
"Ghost Heir Caught in Financial Scandal?"
Screenshots of offshore accounts—real, but manipulated—spread online, claiming Elijah had hidden funds in Dubai.
It worked.
For a while.
But Amina struck back.
As a trained journalist, she had anticipated the smear.
Within hours, she uploaded a full forensic report—tracing the altered metadata, timestamps, and original documents.
The public watched in real time as the lie collapsed.
And Grace's empire cracked.
---
But victories came at a cost.
The following morning, Elijah walked into the temporary studio they had set up with Elias.
And found it empty.
A note on the desk.
Scrawled in shaky handwriting:
"I'm sorry. They took her."