Chapter 6: The First Move

Patricia spent the rest of the day pretending everything was normal.

She picked Faith from school.

Helped Glen with his homework.

Prepared supper.

Smiled when necessary.

Spoke when spoken to.

But beneath the calm surface, something powerful was taking shape.

For years, she had been reacting to life.

Reacting to bills.

Reacting to disappointments.

Reacting to Alex's mistakes.

Now she was planning.

And planning felt far better than suffering.

The evening sun dipped behind the distant hills surrounding Nakuru as she finished setting the dining table.

The house looked exactly the same.

But Patricia wasn't.

Not anymore.

A vehicle pulled into the compound.

Alex was home.

She glanced at the clock.

6:12 p.m.

Earlier than usual.

Interesting.

Through the window, she watched him step out carrying shopping bags.

Shopping bags.

Expensive ones.

Patricia frowned.

Where had that money suddenly come from?

Moments later, the front door opened.

"Daddy!"

Faith rushed toward him.

Alex lifted her into the air.

Laughing.

Patricia watched silently.

The scene would have warmed her heart once.

Now it felt staged.

Like a man trying to convince himself he was still a good father.

"I brought something."

The children immediately gathered around him.

Alex produced chocolates.

New shoes.

Toys.

The children's excitement filled the room.

Patricia remained by the kitchen doorway.

Observing.

Analyzing.

The gifts weren't for the children.

They were for his conscience.

Alex looked up and met her gaze.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flashed across his face.

Then he smiled.

"Do you like them?"

The question wasn't directed at the children.

It was directed at Patricia.

She forced a polite smile.

"They're lovely."

Alex visibly relaxed.

The reaction confirmed her suspicion.

He was guilty.

And guilty people always tried to compensate.

Later that night, after the children had gone to bed, Patricia sat reading in the living room.

At least pretending to read.

Alex emerged from the bedroom wearing a fresh shirt.

Patricia glanced up.

"Going somewhere?"

Alex paused.

"A friend needs help."

At nine o'clock?

Patricia nearly laughed.

Instead, she nodded.

"Oh."

"Don't wait up."

"I won't."

The answer caught him off guard.

For years, Patricia had questioned every late-night outing.

Tonight, she didn't care.

Or rather, she appeared not to care.

The distinction mattered.

Alex hesitated.

Almost as if waiting for an argument.

When none came, he grabbed his keys and left.

The gate closed behind him.

Patricia waited exactly thirty seconds.

Then she picked up her phone.

"Alison."

"I'm already outside."

Patricia smiled.

Her sister truly was something else.

The sisters followed Alex through Nakuru's evening traffic.

Their vehicle remained several cars behind.

Far enough to avoid suspicion.

Close enough to maintain sight.

Alex drove toward Milimani Estate.

Again.

Patricia's stomach tightened.

The same neighborhood.

The same direction.

The same lies.

After fifteen minutes, his vehicle entered a quiet street lined with luxurious homes.

Large gates.

Beautiful gardens.

Security cameras.

Money.

Lots of money.

Alex eventually stopped outside a newly completed mansion.

Patricia immediately recognized the address from the property documents.

The house.

The eighteen-million-shilling house.

Her house.

Or rather, the house bought using money that should have belonged to their family.

Her breathing became shallow.

The mansion was beautiful.

Cream-colored walls.

Large balconies.

Floor-to-ceiling windows.

The kind of home Patricia had dreamed about owning one day.

The kind of home she and Alex used to imagine together.

Now it belonged to him and Fiona.

The realization hurt.

Far more than she expected.

A second vehicle pulled into the driveway moments later.

A white Mercedes.

The driver's door opened.

Fiona stepped out.

Even from a distance, she looked elegant.

Confident.

Perfectly dressed.

As though life itself favored her.

Patricia felt anger rise.

Not because Fiona was beautiful.

Because Fiona knew.

She knew Alex had a wife.

She knew he had children.

And she didn't care.

Alex walked toward her.

The two embraced.

Then disappeared inside the mansion together.

Alison gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Give me one reason."

Patricia sighed.

"For what?"

"Not to drive through that gate."

Despite everything, Patricia chuckled.

"Because prison would ruin your career."

"Fair point."

The sisters continued watching.

Minutes passed.

Then an hour.

Neither Alex nor Fiona reappeared.

Patricia felt sick.

There was no denying reality anymore.

The affair wasn't temporary.

It wasn't casual.

It wasn't a mistake.

It was a relationship.

A planned future.

A deliberate betrayal.

Suddenly, Alison's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen.

Then frowned.

"What is it?" Patricia asked.

Alison answered.

"Hello?"

A serious expression immediately appeared on her face.

Patricia's heart began pounding.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

The conversation lasted less than a minute.

When Alison ended the call, her face had gone pale.

"What's happened?"

Alison didn't answer immediately.

She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.

Finally, she looked at Patricia.

"You need to prepare yourself."

Patricia's pulse accelerated.

"For what?"

"The person who called works at the Lands Registry."

A chill ran down Patricia's spine.

"And?"

Alison swallowed.

"The house isn't the biggest problem."

Patricia stared.

"What do you mean?"

Alison handed her the phone.

A photograph filled the screen.

An official document.

Stamped.

Signed.

Legal.

Patricia read the heading.

Then read it again.

Her blood froze.

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

Below it appeared a familiar name.

Alex Midila

And beneath that, one line that made her entire world stop.

SOLE BENEFICIARY: FIONA LAWAMA

Patricia's hands began shaking.

"No..."

Alison nodded grimly.

"Someone convinced your husband to write a will."

Patricia's breathing became uneven.

Then she noticed something else.

The date.

The will had been signed only three days earlier.

Three days.

Three days before Alex emptied their account.

Three days before he moved money into the mansion.

Three days before everything began unraveling.

A terrible feeling settled inside her.

The kind that warns of approaching disaster.

Because suddenly this no longer looked like an affair.

It looked like a setup.

A dangerous setup.

And somewhere inside the mansion, Fiona Lawama was smiling.

Because Alex Midila had no idea that he was merely a pawn in a game much larger than himself.