Chapter 64
Minutes later, the Ayomide compound no longer felt like a family home—it had transformed into a fortress of chaos. Police convoys lined the driveway, their flashing sirens scattering red and blue light across the marble walls. Officers moved briskly through the yard, some scribbling notes, others barking orders into radios. Tension hung in the air like smoke.
The situation was too tangled, too sudden. Four women—daughters-in-law of the family, along with a friend—vanished within the hour. Kidnapped, taken by unknown hands. No ransom note, no witness, no trace.
Kunle Ayomide stood at the center of it all, a pillar of fury and grief. His usually commanding baritone carried a tremor as he explained to a stern-looking officer.
"The three are my daughters-in-law," he said, voice low but heavy. "The fourth is my nephew's girlfriend. Two were together when it happened. And now—" He broke off, unable to finish.
The compound gate screeched suddenly, and a black SUV barreled in at reckless speed. Doors slammed, and Dayo stormed out, fury practically radiating from his frame. He didn't pause to greet anyone, didn't waste time searching for answers. His eyes locked on Sebastian, who sat apart on the porch, face dark, fists clenched.
Dayo's anger exploded. "I just left her with you for a few days, and you couldn't watch her?!" His voice cracked like a whip across the compound. "You said she's your mother. You claimed you loved her so damn much! What the hell happened?"
Sebastian's eyes lifted, already bloodshot from sleepless nights and the storm boiling inside him. He had been agitated long before Dayo's outburst, but the accusation sliced deeper.
He rose to his feet in one swift motion, his voice raw. "Yes, I love her—more than anything! And you have no right to stand here and blame me. Do you think I don't care? Do you think I'd let this happen if I had a choice?!" His chest heaved. "I only took her out for shopping. Out of nowhere, she disappeared. Tell me—how the hell is that my fault?"
Their voices clashed like thunder. The compound buzzed with officers, but the two men seemed to stand in a storm of their own.
On the couch near the entrance, Sharon—just back from Canada the previous night—crumbled. Her sobs filled the air, childlike and sharp.
"Daddy," she wailed, tugging at Dayo's sleeve. "Daddy, Mommy has been kidnapped. Who took my mommy away?"
Her words cracked something inside him. Dayo, who had come roaring like a lion, suddenly felt small, helpless. He sighed, gathering her trembling form into his arms. His words fumbled, desperate to comfort, though even he didn't believe them.
"No, sweetheart. No. Mommy isn't kidnapped," he whispered, stroking her back as though she were a toddler again. "She's… she's just playing hide and seek. She'll come back."
How can he lie to a fifteen years old girl like she's not smart enough to notice what's going on?
But Sharon clung tighter, her sobs refusing his lie.
Nearby, Ryan had a phone pressed to his ear, speaking in clipped tones, reaching contacts across borders, rattling cages both near and far. Damian, face pale with dread, jabbed at his phone in vain, trying to pick up a signal. And Darin—haunted by what he'd seen earlier in his own home—paced like a madman, hair mussed, his every breath ragged.
"I already have my men on this," Sebastian cut in suddenly, his voice sharp, laced with authority. "They're working on it. I'll get them back."
He didn't need to explain further. Everyone knew what his "men" meant—Sebastian was no ordinary heir. He was captain-coast of a deadly mafia syndicate, and in his world, disappearances like this weren't puzzles; they were wars.
Damian's temper boiled over. He hurled his phone to the ground, the screen shattering on the marble tiles. "Damn it!" he roared, clutching his head. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't process. Only this morning, he'd taken Bummi to her OBG appointment, laughing with her, holding her hand. Then he dropped her at Lola's place with a light kiss and a promise to return.
Now both women—his wife, carrying their unborn child, and her best friend—were gone. Snatched.
"Mr. Ayomide," one of the officers spoke firmly, stepping toward Kunle, "please. We need your sons to calm down. This case requires patience. Rushing will only worsen it. And there's another matter…"
He paused, as though weighing the gravity of the news.
"…Headquarters has just confirmed the passing of your wife. Mrs. Ronke Ayomide was strangled to death in her prison cell last night."
The words fell like stones into silence.
It seemed almost impossible. The woman had been alive yesterday, visited by her daughter-in-law, speaking too much, confessing too much. Someone had silenced her before she could say more.
Kunle's face hardened. His voice was a blade. "Officer, I don't give a damn if my ex-wife perished. She made her choices. What I care about is my daughters-in-law—and that young woman with them. Find them. Alive."
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, scribbling notes, making calls.
Damian's scream tore through the yard, raw with frustration. He kicked the stone edge of the water fountain so hard the crack echoed. Pain lanced up his leg, but he didn't care. His rage was greater.
Nifemi, shaken by the outburst, hurried to his side, murmuring comfort, hands steady on his brother's shoulders.
Another car screeched into the compound then, tires spitting gravel. Omolara climbed out from the driver's side, Rukky from the passenger. Both women ran, their faces pale, eyes wide with terror.
"Where is she?!" Rukky cried, clutching at one officer's sleeve. "Where is my daughter?"
Omolara's sobs spilled freely, her words barely coherent as she begged for answers.
The officer tried to soothe them, his tone firm but gentle. "Please, calm down, ma. We have the situation under control. Our investigation is ongoing—"
But Rukky broke. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, both hands gripping her head. Her wails pierced the air. "Egbami ooo! My daughter!"
Then, as her sobs slowed, realization struck. She stopped suddenly, her voice changing, thin with horror.
"Cecilia…" she whispered. "Cecilia."
The name rippled through the compound like lightning.
Rukky raised her tear-streaked face, her voice cracking. "Cecilia has finished me. Cecilia, what have you done?!"
The compound fell silent. Curious eyes turned. Suspicion thickened in the air.
The lead officer stepped forward, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping a notepad. His voice was calm but sharp. "Who is Cecilia?"
Rukky's shoulders slumped. She looked broken, torn between shame and dread. Finally, she spoke.
"I… I have twin daughters. Identical." Her words trembled. "The elder is Adira Success. The younger is Adila Cecilia. A few days ago, Success went to visit her mother-in-law at the police station. And there, the woman confessed something—that she and Cecilia… my Cecilia… had conspired. To ruin Success's marriage. Out of jealousy. This morning before I went for shopping, I caught my younger daughter, Cecilia making a strange phone call. It seemed urgent and she was happy about it. Then, she left the house and haven't returned since then."
Gasps erupted.
"What?!" The sons chorused, disbelief colliding with anger.
Dayo's face burned crimson. "So all this—" he jabbed a finger toward the officers—"all this time, while we thought it was just Mother… it was her too? Another snake in our house?"
The officer snapped his notepad shut, eyes narrowing. "Have you contacted your younger daughter yet?"
Rukky shook her head, fresh tears spilling. "Her phone… it's switched off. Please, wether it's she or not, I don't want anybody harming my daughters."
Damian's voice cut through, fierce and fast. "We don't need her phone. My wife's wedding ring has a tracker inside. I put it there myself. That ring will lead us straight to her."
Darin's brow furrowed, doubtful. "And what if she took it off before…?"
But Damian shook his head violently. "No. Pearl has never taken it off. Not once. Even when she tried to trade it in London, I caught her because of that tracker. It tells me everywhere she goes. It will tell me now."
Relief and tension clashed in the air. At once, the police snapped into motion. Radios buzzed, orders flew, tactical units gathered.
The chase had begun.