Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

Adrian stood beside Sarah, his expression already telling her the answer she didn't want to hear.They had everything ready—the documents meticulously organized, the address verified twice, the plan to leave for London before the sun went down.Sarah had even begun mentally preparing herself for the confrontation, rehearsing the words she would use, imagining the look on the Nnadede family's faces when they realized someone finally believed them, someone finally cared enough to seek justice on their behalf.But when she asked him to book the flight, he gently shook his head."Sarah, we shouldn't fly yet," he said calmly, shutting the folder he held with deliberate care. "Not until we speak with them directly. The Nnadede family has been through a lot. Turning up at their door unannounced might push them away instead of helping. They might see us as another threat, another intrusion into their trauma."She hated to admit it, but he had a point. The anticipation, the urgency, the anger

Adrian arrived before sunrise.Sarah was in her home office already, going through emails with a restless focus that had become her new normal.When she heard the hurried knock, she looked up, surprised. Adrian didn’t usually interrupt her mornings unless it was urgent.The moment he walked in, urgency filled the air.He held a sealed brown envelope in his hand, his grip tight, his expression darker than she had ever seen on him. He didn’t speak immediately—he simply extended the envelope.“Sarah… you need to see this.”She took it, her brows tightening as she slid her finger under the flap. The papers inside were thick. Heavy.And the weight of what they carried seemed to hit her even before she read the first line.The silence in the room deepened as she scanned the documents. She read the first page, then the second, then the third—her heartbeat slowing, then quickening, then dropping into cold calculation.Adrian stood stiffly, watching her reaction, waiting for her to reach the f

The wheels of the plane touched the Abuja runway with a soft thud, and Sarah exhaled slowly, steadying her thoughts.Ella sat beside her, clutching her handbag tightly, her eyes fixed on the window. Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes—they were too aware of the gravity of what they’d flown into.This wasn’t a business trip.It was a hunt for truth.A hunt for justice.A hunt for the one thing that could finally bring down Lord Benedict Augustine.By the time they made it through immigration and stepped into the humid Abuja air, the sun was already harsh overhead, the heat wrapping around them like a heavy blanket.Their informant—an elderly man named Musa—had sent a message earlier confirming the road to his community was clear.But Nigeria had changed.And even clear roads could turn into battlegrounds in seconds.Just a few weeks earlier, a small community less than thirty minutes from that same road had been swallowed by terror overnight.It happened around 2 a.m., when

The sun had barely risen over Obeleagu Umana when Sarah stepped out of the small guest room where she and Ella had spent the night.The air held that early-morning chill that only rural communities truly understood, quiet, heavy, with the distant sound of roosters crowing and the soft murmur of women fetching water from the stream.She inhaled slowly, steadying her mind. Today, she needed strength. Today, she needed patience.She wasn’t giving up on the Nnadede family.The previous day had ended in disappointment, but not defeat. Sarah had faced walls tougher than this; political giants, corporate devils, people who had left her to burn in a warehouse.One frightened father could not shake her.She adjusted her jacket and motioned Ella to follow.When they reached the compound, Mr. Ifeanyi Nnadede was already outside, sweeping, as though he had been expecting them and preparing to chase them out again.The moment he saw Sarah approaching, he stiffened.“Madam, I thought I told you peo

The wind that morning carried a crisp bite, the kind that often came before a storm. Sarah stood in the federal building lobby with her lawyer, Emmanuel Briggs, waiting to be ushered in. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it pulsed with strategy, fear, and determination.She clutched the sealed evidence file against her chest, aware of the weight of what she was about to unleash.A federal agent stepped out. “Madam Williams, Attorney Briggs, this way.”Inside the private conference room, Sarah placed the file on the glass table with steady hands, though her pulse thudded heavily against her ribs.Emmanuel sat beside her, his calm presence grounding her.“This contains proof,” she said, her tone firm but low, “that Lord Benedict Augustine manipulated the last state governor’s election. He installed his own candidate. And the journalist who exposed the truth… was found dead the next morning.”The federal contact, a seasoned woman with direct eyes, leaned forward, her expression gra