LOGIN(Daniel’s POV)Months had passed.And still… nothing.No message. No call. No sign of Amaka.At first, I told myself she needed time. What she had witnessed was not something anyone could easily recover from. Fear had a way of taking hold of a person, wrapping around their voice until silence felt safer than truth. I understood that. I respected it.But time had stretched longer than expected.Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.And her silence no longer felt like fear alone.It felt deliberate.Or worse… it felt like something had gone wrong.I leaned back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the files spread across my desk. The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled deep into your bones. The low hum of the air conditioner filled the space, accompanied by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.It should have been calming.Instead, it made everything louder.My thoughts. My doubts. My instincts.My fingers tapped lightly against the wooden surface as I replayed the fragme
(Amaka’s POV)Sleep had abandoned me.No matter how many times I closed my eyes, my mind refused to rest. My body ached, heavy with exhaustion, yet my thoughts ran wild, jagged and relentless. The darkness of my small room pressed down on me like a weight I could not lift. The quiet was deafening, as if the walls themselves were listening to the turmoil inside me.⸻I was there the day Mr Patrick died.Every detail of that evening had been etched into my mind, relentless, unforgiving. And though the memory should have faded with time, it had not. It clung to me, twisting with guilt, fear, and a desperation I could not ignore.⸻He had come home from work in the evening, weary, the lines on his face deep with exhaustion. The day had been long, heavy with responsibility, and he carried it with the quiet dignity that made him who he was. He went straight to his study, sitting at his desk as he always did, settling into the familiar comfort of his routine. I watched him from a distance, p
(Amaka’s POV)After meeting him, my mind refused to stay still.It was not just fear anymore.It was something heavier.Something that settled deep inside my chest and refused to let me breathe properly.Every step I took away from him felt uncertain, like the ground beneath me was no longer steady. The noise of the market faded behind me, but the silence that followed was worse.Because his words came with me.They stayed.They echoed.Over and over again.⸻If you truly love Patrick, fight on his behalf.⸻I tightened my grip around the card in my hand.I had not even realized I was holding it that firmly.For a moment, I stopped walking.My fingers loosened slightly, and I looked down at it.A simple card.Nothing special.Just a name.A number.But it felt heavier than it should.Like it carried something more than paper.Like it carried a decision.⸻“No,” I whispered to myself.I resumed walking.Faster this time.As if distance could silence the thoughts rising inside me.⸻But
(Daniel’s POV)By the time morning settled in, my direction was already clear.Benson remained a priority. His movements, his presence at Patrick’s house, the timing—it all pointed toward involvement. But experience had taught me something simple and unchanging:The obvious path is rarely the only one.And sometimes… not even the most important.There was another angle. Quieter. Less guarded.Someone who had been close enough to witness what others overlooked.Patrick’s housemaid.People like her were often invisible in households like his. Present, but unnoticed. Trusted, but rarely questioned. They moved through rooms, through conversations, through moments that others assumed went unseen.But invisibility came with a cost.And sometimes… it came with truth.⸻Finding her wasn’t straightforward.There were no official records I could rely on. No documented address tied neatly to her name. People like her existed in fragments—mentioned in passing, remembered casually, rarely recorded
(Daniel’s POV)The door opened quietly, and I instinctively stood, straightening my posture.“Daniel,” Alex said, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable authority.I nodded and stepped forward. “Alex.” My tone was professional, measured—but there was an undercurrent of respect.Arianna’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze flicking between us.“They know each other?” she whispered under her breath, surprise and curiosity lacing her words.I caught the flicker of realization in her eyes. She hadn’t expected any connection between us. She hadn’t known that the person orchestrating the investigation was in direct contact with me. And now that she saw it… she was processing just how carefully this had all been planned.Alex’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “Arianna,” he began, his tone deliberate, almost gentle, “I know this may come as a surprise. I wanted to make sure this investigation happened, that the truth came to light—but I could
(Daniel’s POV)The room felt heavy, almost suffocating. Every shadow seemed to lean closer, every silence thickened with unspoken truths. Arianna sat frozen, her eyes fixed on me, trying to absorb what she had just heard. Her hands rested lightly on the edge of the table, but they weren’t steady. She was caught between disbelief and the need to understand.“No…” she whispered. “You said… you have evidence.” Her voice trembled slightly, though her back remained straight.I nodded slowly, careful. “I do.”I slid the documents toward her: financial records, witness statements, each paper a puzzle piece meticulously placed, waiting for her to see the full picture.“This is your father’s company account,” I said, voice steady but low. Her eyes moved over the numbers and signatures.“Yes…” she murmured. “But the signature… this isn’t my father’s. Then whose is it?”“Patrick,” I said. “Your father’s brother. His business partner.”“…Uncle Patrick?” she whispered, a mixture of recognition and
( Third person POV ) Lucas had been living alone in the house long before Ariana ever left.The silence that filled the mansion was not new — it had always existed, heavy and cold, lingering between the walls like a truth no one dared to face. But now, with Ariana gone, the emptiness felt exposed.
(Ariana’s POV) The pen felt heavier than my entire life. It rested in my trembling fingers, its tip hovering just above the paper, as if waiting for permission to destroy everything I had left. Lucas stood across from me, calm, confident, dressed in patience and lies. “Just sign here,” he said
(Ariana’s POV)Before I could open and close my eyes, a whole month had passed in Alex’s sister’s house. Thirty long days. Thirty restless nights. It felt like I had been dropped into another woman’s life, forced to wear her shoes, breathe her air, and survive her reality.A month ago, I was living
(Alex’s POV)On my way home, my mind was crowded with thoughts — heavy, restless thoughts that refused to let me breathe. How would I overcome Vanessa and Alex? How would I secure Ariana’s freedom? Every turn of the steering wheel felt like another turn into uncertainty. I kept wondering what might







