I had tears in my eyes as I stared at that sweater with the Nike logo at the back. I found it hard to believe the gateman was the one who did this.
I turned to the cook who had unlocked the gate for us and was now standing by the door. "Did you see anyone leave here when you came to open the gate?" I asked.
She shook her head and waved her hands along with it. "No, madam."
I wiped my tears and asked my bodyguard to call the police. I took the sweater and turned to leave—when my eyes caught something at the other end of the room. It was a ring. I knew that ring.
I walked toward it and picked it up. As I stared at it, I tried to remember where I had seen it before, but it was as though my mind had gone completely blank.
Then it hit me—someone had once pointed directly at my face with that ring on his finger, and that was when it clicked… Tony! This was Tony's ring.
My brother, Tony, was the jewelry type and owned loads of such accessories, but I was certain this particular ring was one of the ones he wore that day he confronted Abel and me.
I seized the ring and waited for the police. I refused to leave the scene, afraid that the little evidence left might get swept away by him. I was already convinced Tony had a hand in all of this. As soon as the police arrived, I handed them all the evidence—especially Tony's ring.
"Are you sure about this?" Detective Samuel asked. "This is your brother's ring?"
"Yes, I'm sure." Oh, it better not be him that mu*de*ed my father! I thought. Because I'm going to make him suf*er so much he'll wish he was nev*r born.
Tony was arrested right there in my presence. He glared at me with all the hatred in the world. My mother stormed out and screamed at me.
"Why are you doing this to us? Haven't you had enough? You took the company, you have the money, and now you want to take my son away from me too?" My mother cried.
"Mum, it could be possible he ki11ed your husband!"
"I am not your mother!" she snapped. "Go and find your mother—the one your father cheated on me with! Don't you dare call me your mother again!" She walked out on me, swearing I'd reg*et 'setting' her son up—which wasn't even true.
I was shocked at what was happening in my family. The sudden shift in attitude toward me—I mean, my mother already knew I wasn't her biological child, so why was she rubbing it in my face now, of all times?
I turned to Detective Samuel, who was still standing there, and said, "Please, use anything possible to make Tony talk. He knows something," I said firmly, sniffing back my tears, determined to find my father's ki11er.
"Yes, ma'am. And if you find anything else, don't hesitate to call me," he said and walked out.
Little did I know that my mother's storm against me was just beginning to brew in the house.
To be continued...
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