Chapter 9: The War Council

“Eight hours.”

The words stayed in the room after Bastian said them.

Bisi broke the silence first. “So we have eight hours to… what? Learn rich people's chess?”

“No,” Bastian said. “We have eight hours to decide if you survive it.”

He walked to the kitchen counter. Opened a drawer Zara hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t cutlery. It was a burner phone. Three of them. Still boxed.

He slid one to Bisi. One to Zara. Kept one.

“Yours go in the safe,” he said. “If you stay.”

“If,” Zara repeated.

“Yes.”

Bisi picked hers up. “I’m guessing this isn’t for TikTok.”

“It’s for when Daniel posts your address,” Bastian said.

Zara froze. “What?”

Bastian didn’t look at her. He was already moving, pulling a laptop from a cabinet that looked like it should hold plates. “James is tracking it. He started twenty minutes ago.”

“Who’s James,” Bisi asked.

The front door opened.

All three of them turned.

A man stepped in. Late thirties. Suit, no tie. Tired in the way people get when sleep is a suggestion, not a right. He closed the door quietly and engaged both locks.

“James,” Bastian said.

James nodded once at Bastian. Then at Zara. Then at Bisi. “Ma’am.”

“Did he post it,” Bastian asked.

“Yes.” James set a tablet on the counter. “Two photos. Her old apartment. Caption: ‘If you’ve seen her, she’s not safe alone.’ Tagged three mutual friends.”

Zara’s stomach caved. “He made it look like a welfare check.”

“He made it look like you’re unstable,” James corrected. Gently. “It’s smarter. People share those.”

Bisi grabbed Zara’s hand. “How many shares?”

“Seventeen,” James said. “Climbing. I filed takedowns, but it’s out.”

Bastian took the tablet. Scrolled. His face didn’t change. “He wants her to run. Or to come home. Either way, he controls the narrative.”

“And Vivienne?” Zara asked. Her voice was steadier than she felt.

“Quiet,” James said. “That’s worse. When she’s quiet, she’s working.”

Bastian set the tablet down. “Cole Senior will see the posts by morning. If he doesn’t already know. That accelerates his timeline.”

“So he’s coming to clean up,” Bisi said. “And we’re the mess.”

“You’re the leverage,” Bastian said. He looked at Zara. “Both of you.”

Zara pulled her hand from Bisi’s. “Then tell us the rules. Real ones. No more ‘three days’ and ‘no questions.’ What happens when he gets here?”

Bastian studied her. Then he nodded. “He offers you money. Enough to start over. New city. New name if you want it. He calls it kindness. It’s a transaction.”

“For me to leave you,” Zara said.

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then he offers me the company,” Bastian said. “Full control. No merger. No Vivienne. In exchange for you.”

Bisi let out a breath. “He’s gonna buy her.”

“He’s going to try,” Bastian said. “Men like him only understand price.”

Zara crossed her arms. “And you?”

“I don’t take his deals,” Bastian said. “But I need to know you won’t take yours.”

The room went quiet.

Bisi looked at Zara. “Zee.”

“I’m not for sale,” Zara said. Same as before. Louder this time.

“Good,” Bastian said. “Then we have a plan.”

“What plan,” James asked. First time he’d spoken without being addressed.

“We tell the truth,” Bastian said. “Or a version of it. Daniel is stalking her. He’s using Vivienne’s name to threaten me. Cole Senior hates threats he didn’t authorise.”

“So we make Daniel his problem,” James said. Slowly. “Not ours.”

“Yes.”

“And Vivienne?” Bisi asked.

“We don’t mention her,” Bastian said. “Not yet. If my father knows I know she’s involved, he’ll assume I’m ready for war. I’m not. Not with you two in the room.”

Zara frowned. “So we lie.”

“We omit,” Bastian corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“To you,” Zara said.

“To everyone,” Bastian said. Then, quieter: “For now.”

James checked his watch. “We have six hours. You need sleep.”

“I need a statement,” Bastian said. “For the police. Daniel trespassed. Threatened Zara through security. We file tonight. Paper trail before my father gets here.”

“I’ll call it in,” James said. “You should both write what you remember. Details. Times. Exact words.”

Bisi raised her hand. “Question. If we’re doing legal stuff, do we need a lawyer?”

“Yes,” Bastian said. “I have three. None of them came here before my father did. That’s a declaration.”

“So we’re defenceless,” Bisi said.

“You have me,” Bastian said.

It wasn’t comfort. It was a fact.

Zara walked to the window. Didn’t touch the blinds. “He said Vivienne says hi. Through the police. What does that mean?”

“It means she knows you’re here,” Bastian said. “And she wants me to know she knows.”

“It means she’s playing,” James added. “And she just moved first.”

Zara turned. “What’s her second move?”

“Cole Senior,” Bastian said. “She tells him I’m compromised. Emotional. Unfit. He comes to extract me.”

“Extract,” Bisi repeated. “Like you’re a tooth.”

“Accurate,” James said.

Bastian looked at Zara. “When he gets here, he’ll separate us. He’ll talk to you alone. He’ll be kind. He’ll be reasonable. He’ll offer you everything you lost and more.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then he’ll try to break me,” Bastian said. “And he’s good at it.”

Zara held his gaze. “Let him try.”

Something eased in Bastian’s shoulders. Barely. Enough.

James picked up one of the burners. “I’ll sweep the apartment. If Daniel got close, we assume he planted something. I’ll be an hour.”

“Bisi,” Bastian said. “Your phone. Battery out. Now.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Bisi sighed but did it. “I feel like I’m in a spy movie and no one gave me the script.”

“You’re in the sequel,” James said, heading for the hallway. “The first one ended badly.”

He left.

Silence came back. Heavier.

Zara sat on the couch. “Six hours.”

“Five and a half,” Bastian corrected. He didn’t sit. “You should sleep.”

“So should you.”

“I won’t.”

“Because of Vivienne?”

“Because of you.”

Zara looked up. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the door. Like he expected it to open.

“Do you regret the three days?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bastian said. “I should have made it thirty.”

Bisi made a noise. “Okay, wow. That was almost human.”

“Bisi,” Zara warned.

“What? I’m documenting growth.”

Bastian ignored them. He checked his phone. Then the lock on the front door. Then the windows. A circuit.

Zara watched him. “You’ve done this before.”

“Hidden?” Bastian asked. “Yes.”

“Been hunted?”

“Yes.”

“By your own family?”

His eyes met hers. “Yes.”

The word sat there.

Bisi reached over and took Zara’s hand again. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

Bastian’s phone lit up. Not a ring. A silent alert.

He read it. His whole body went still.

“What,” Zara said.

He looked up. “Security downstairs. Cole Senior is here.”

Bisi checked the microwave clock. “It’s five AM.”

“I know,” Bastian said.

The intercom buzzed.

Long. Insistent. Not a request.

Bastian didn’t move to answer it.

“He’s not waiting until nine,” he said.