CHAPTER 86

I WON'T MOVE...

The city was alive with a rhythm of its own cars honking, voices blending in the streets, and the bright colors of billboards lighting the sky even in daylight. In the midst of it all, life for most people continued as if untouched by the quiet battles forming behind the scenes. But for Obetta, every corner, every encounter, every move was an opportunity to play her game.

She had waited long enough. The information she gathered was her weapon, and though she hadn’t acted openly yet, the itch to make her presence felt had grown stronger. She told herself she wasn’t rushing no, she was testing, pressing at the edges, watching how her rival, Maya, would react.

It started small.

Maya had stopped by a high-end boutique in the center of the city. The store was filled with gleaming mirrors and neat rows of clothing, the kind of place where silence felt expensive. She wasn’t dressed extravagantly just a simple white blouse tucked into fitted jeans, her hair tied back in a ponytail but even so, she carried herself with a confidence that made her stand out.

As she browsed, she caught the staff glancing at her. Not because she didn’t belong, but because she carried herself like she did without asking permission.

That was when Obetta walked in.

She didn’t enter quietly; she glided. Her red heels clicked sharply against the floor, her perfume trailing behind her like a banner of wealth and entitlement. The staff almost tripped over themselves to greet her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Obetta,” one of them said with a bow of respect.

Maya noticed the sudden shift in energy and turned slightly, her eyes narrowing when she saw the familiar figure.

Obetta’s lips curled into a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. “Clear the floor,” she said lazily, waving her hand as if the presence of other shoppers irritated her. “I need privacy.”

The staff looked around uncertainly. There were only a handful of customers, but the request was unusual. Still, money spoke louder than rules, and one of the attendants approached Maya politely.

“Ma’am, would you mind…”

Maya didn’t let her finish. She folded her arms and looked Obetta squarely in the eye. “I’m not leaving.”

The air shifted instantly. The staff froze, looking between the two women, unsure what to do.

Obetta tilted her head, her smile sharpening. “You should know better than to make a scene, Maya. This is a place for women who belong here.”

Maya didn’t flinch. She took a slow step forward, her voice steady. “Belonging isn’t measured by how loud you demand attention. It’s measured by what you carry inside you.”

The words weren’t shouted, but they landed like a challenge. The staff stirred nervously, but Obetta simply laughed a soft, mocking sound.

“How noble,” she said. “But nobility doesn’t pay the bills. Money does. And I have more than enough to buy everyone in this store, including you.”

Maya’s lips curved faintly, but her eyes stayed cool. “Then spend it on something that actually matters. Because I won’t move, Obetta. Not for you, not for your games.”

The silence that followed was heavy. The staff looked like they wanted to vanish, sensing the tension but not daring to interfere.

Finally, Obetta turned away with a flick of her hair, feigning boredom. “Suit yourself. Enjoy playing dress-up. Some of us have real lives to return to.”

But as she moved deeper into the boutique, her eyes flashed. Maya had not only refused to yield she had done so with words that cut deeper than expected.

Later that afternoon, Maya stepped into a café near the boutique, choosing a quiet corner to rest. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation. She ordered her drink and sat down with a small bag of items she had bought.

Unbeknownst to her, Obetta had followed.

She didn’t enter immediately no, she waited. She let Maya settle, let her shoulders relax. Then, as if by coincidence, she stepped inside and made her presence felt without even acknowledging Maya.

She walked straight to the counter, her tone sharp and commanding. “Your service is too slow. Do you even know who I am?”

Heads turned, and the staff scrambled nervously. Maya watched silently, sipping her coffee, refusing to give Obetta the satisfaction of a reaction.

But Obetta wasn’t finished. After receiving her order, she “accidentally” brushed past Maya’s table, spilling a few drops of her drink near the edge.

“Oh,” Obetta said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Did I ruin your little coffee break?”

Maya looked up slowly, her expression unreadable. She wiped the table with a napkin and replied in a calm, measured tone. “It takes more than a spill to ruin my day.”

The steadiness of her response unsettled Obetta more than an outburst would have. For a brief moment, she felt the sting of being outmatched not by wealth, not by status, but by unshakable composure.

Obetta didn’t linger after that. She left the café with her head high, but her mind was far from calm. She had expected Maya to break, even just a little to lash out, to lose her balance. Instead, Maya had stood firm, her calm like a wall Obetta couldn’t pierce.

Back in her car, Obetta leaned against the leather seat, her nails tapping rhythmically against her phone.

“She thinks she’s untouchable,” she whispered to herself. “But everyone has a weakness. Everyone.”

Her lips curved into a thin smile. She wasn’t done not even close. This was only the beginning.

Meanwhile, Maya sat in the café a little longer, letting the tension fade. She knew Obetta wasn’t just passing by. Every word, every move had been deliberate. A test.

She stirred her coffee slowly, her mind calm even as her heartbeat carried the weight of what had just happened. She didn’t fool herself into thinking it was over. Obetta was circling her, searching for cracks.

But Maya wasn’t afraid.

She had seen women like Obetta before women who thrived on control, on breaking others to prove their strength. The difference now was that Maya had something she hadn’t before: a place she belonged, a friend who believed in her, and a heart that wouldn’t be shaken so easily.

She stood, collected her bag, and walked out of the café with quiet dignity. If Obetta wanted a war, Maya was ready but she would fight it her way, not on Obetta’s terms.

That night, Obetta stood before her mirror again, brushing her hair with deliberate strokes. The reflection that stared back at her looked calm, but her thoughts were burning.

“She won’t always be this calm,” she murmured. “Not once I pull the right strings. She can pretend now, but when I’m done, her pride will cost her everything.”

Her reflection smirked back, as if agreeing with her.

Patience, she reminded herself. This was only a test. And though Maya had passed today, tomorrow would bring another.

And eventually, Obetta promised, everyone broke.