He ran to me and tried to apologize. He said he didn't mean to cheat on me. He said it was a mistake. He said it would never happen again.
He was sweating profusely while trying to make me forgive him. But I couldn't let go of what I saw. I had always been warned about the Danladis. But Abel's betr@yal hurt more than an @rrow to the chest.
"Do you know one thing about cheating, Abel?" I asked, as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. "It's that once you know it, you can't un-know it. Even when things return to normal and we get back together, there's always this small voice in your head asking, 'What if he's doing it again?'" I wiped my tears and turned to leave. It's not my first betr@yal, so I believe I'll pull through this one.
Abel didn't try to stop me again. Instead, he kept calling my name and saying he still loves me—but those words felt empty this time.
All through the drive back home, I kept crying. My driver asked what the problem was, but I told him to mind his business.
So much had happened in less than two weeks, and the whole thing was weighing heavily on me now—father's de@th, the truth that he had me with a maid, my new responsibility as the CEO of the Evans Group of Companies, and now Abel of all people—cheating on me!
I just wanted to get home, lock myself in my room, and cry until the pain was gone. But when we got home and horned and horned at the gate, the gateman refused to open it.
We stayed outside for the next ten minutes waiting for a man we employed to open the gate—all to no avail!
My pain quickly turned to rage as I stormed out of the car to find out what the hell was wrong with him, and if he no longer liked his job. My bodyguard followed behind, and we banged at the gate, but no one came to open it.
Eventually, it was a cook who opened the gate and said she didn't know where the gateman had gone. I stormed into the gateman's house to check if he was there—and I wasn't wrong.
He was there, lying on the cold floor with a knife l0dged in his chest and a p00l of bl00d surrounding him. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that sight—it brought back memories of my father, ki11ed in exactly the same way.
In his hand, he held the same black sweater the ki11er wore the night my father was m*rde*ed. I pulled it up and checked—Nike logo at the back.
I burst into tears as I looked at the body of the gateman. Was he the m*rde*er? Or was someone trying to set him up?
But I was sure about one thing now... this was an inside job and I need to find out who did this!
When I couldn't take the sight anymore, I screamed.
To be continued...
#fictionwriter
#storywriter
#weaverofwords
#tiana