The night was quiet — too quiet.
Lynn sat on the edge of the bed, lacing her boots. Her eyes were tired, but her heart was on fire.
> "You sure you want to do it this way?" Lwandile asked from the doorway.
> "No press. No lawyers. No board members," she said. "I want him to disappear."
Lwandile nodded once. "Say less."
---
Location: Thabiso's Private Club – 2:13 a.m.
Inside, it was champagne and jazz.
Thabiso laughed with his crew like he hadn't just tried to kill his niece. Like he wasn't already bleeding from the media leak that exposed part of his money laundering — the one Lynn released two days ago to rattle him.
Then the music stopped.
The power went out.
Panic spread.
And then — a single spotlight lit the center of the room.
Lynn walked into it.
Wearing black leather. A gun holstered at her hip. Hair slicked back. Eyes cold.
> "You should've finished the job, uncle," she said.
Screams erupted. People ran.
But Lwandile was already blocking the exits.
It was just them now — no more family. No more lies. No more mercy.
> "Please," Thabiso said, sweat on his temples. "You don't have to do this."
> "I do," Lynn replied. "Because you won't stop."
Then she pulled out a USB — connected to a timer, set to leak the rest of his empire's secrets if anything happened to her.
> "You go to jail," she said. "Or you disappear."
Thabiso looked at Lwandile — who just cocked his gun.
He chose to disappear.
---
Later…
They drove down the coast, wind in their hair, past the city lights.
> "So… we really did it," Lynn whispered.
> "You did it," Lwandile smiled. "I just followed your fire."
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
> "And now?" he asked.
> "Now?" she smiled. "We start our empire — clean this time."