"Victor is gone. He was the only reason you were staying here. Leave. This is my house now."
The man's voice cracked through the mansion like a whip.
Jonas stood in the middle of the living room in a black suit, his white hair and neatly trimmed beard making him look dignified at a glance, but there was nothing noble about him. His eyes were red with rage, his face twisted by greed so naked it almost seemed to pulse in the air.
At his feet, a woman knelt trembling.
"Please..." Magano begged, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Tears streamed down her face unchecked. "Where will we go? My youngest is only two years old. Can you at least let us stay until we get back on our feet? Please, Jonas."
Her voice broke on his name.
Victor had been dead for only one day.
One day.
She had not even buried her husband yet, and already she was on her knees, begging not to be thrown out like rubbish.
The sound of heels clicking against the polished floor drew everyone's attention to the entrance.
A woman stepped in wearing a short black dress that barely covered her thighs, a glass of wine balanced carelessly in one hand.
"Babe, I brought y—wait." She blinked, then frowned. "They aren't gone yet?"
Without another word, she handed the glass to Jonas.
He drained it in one swallow, stepped forward, and drove his foot into Magano's ribs.
A scream tore from her lips as her body folded from the pain.
"Just take your children and leave, Magano, before things get worse," the woman said coolly as she crouched before her. "You can't die in my house, now can you?"
Her voice was soft. Too soft. The kind that wrapped cruelty in silk.
Magano gasped, clutching her side, her entire body shaking.
She had not expected this. Not this quickly. Not this viciously.
Her husband had died yesterday, and by the next morning she and her children were being thrown out because, apparently, Victor had left nothing to her. Nothing to the children either. The hotels, the clubs, the private college, the restaurant—everything had been handed over to Catherine, Jonas's daughter, who was studying in South Africa.
Magano had not even been given time to mourn.
"Ahh—!"
The pain hit again, sharper this time, and she cried out.
"Vivian, you're my sister... please... plead for us—"
"I'm not your sister, Maggy."
Vivian cut her off gently, almost lovingly.
"I ripped you of that right years ago. Did you forget?"
The words were delivered so softly they might have sounded tender to a stranger. But Magano knew better. Vivian had perfected the art of smiling while poisoning the air around her.
"Now go upstairs," Vivian said, rising to her feet. "Wake your children and leave."
She slipped her hand into Jonas's, a satisfied smirk curling across her lips.
Life had turned out beautifully for Vivian. Her husband was now the acting head of Samuels Group. She had more cars than she could drive, clubs she did not manage, hotels she did not build, and a villa on the western estate of the city.
Power looked very good on people with rotten hearts.
Then the front door opened.
A young woman stepped inside.
She looked to be in her early twenties, dressed in joggers and a black cap pulled low over her long curled hair. Tinted glasses shielded her eyes. Sweat glistened along her caramel skin, proof that she had just returned from a run. Tall. Slim. Strong.
Vivian stared.
The jealousy was instant, ugly, and familiar.
But Jonas did not stare because of envy.
He froze because of fear.
His skin drained of colour as panic shot through him like lightning.
How was she back already?
Had his man not done the job?
That was impossible.
The young woman stopped short, taking in the scene before her—Magano on the floor, crying and broken; Jonas standing over her; Vivian watching like a vulture waiting for the last breath.
In an instant, she moved.
"Mom."
Her voice was sharp, commanding.
She rushed to Magano's side and pulled her gently upright.
"Mom, get up. What's going on here?"
Then she looked at Jonas.
That single look made Vivian instinctively step back behind her husband.
"Jonas?"
The name came out like a blade.
Jonas opened his mouth, but Magano spoke first through her tears.
"Paige... Victor left all his assets and properties to Catherine. Jonas is asking us to leave."
For a second, Paige said nothing.
Then she let out a short, humourless laugh.
"What?" she said. "That's ridiculous."
She looked between Jonas and Vivian as though they had just performed a cheap stage act for her amusement.
"Let me guess," she said. "Vivian showed you the property papers?"
A bitter smile touched her lips, but it vanished almost immediately.
"Did you tell my mother that?" she asked, her tone turning deadly calm.
Jonas felt sweat crawl down his back.
Paige was not a girl he could control. She was ruthless, fierce, and wildly unpredictable. She had a temper that did not knock before entering. If she saw something within reach, she could use it as a weapon before a man had time to blink.
He had planned this morning carefully.
Paige always went for a run before doing anything else. So he had arranged for a sedative to be slipped into her water bottle. One of his men had also been told to spray chloroform near the entrance where she usually passed.
He had confirmed it.
And yet here she was. Fresh. Standing. Alert. A storm with a pulse.
Especially now—right after he had kicked Magano.
God, let Magano stay quiet, he thought. Don't wince. Don't say it.
"Don't make me repeat myself," Paige snapped.
Jonas swallowed hard.
"Paige, I'm your uncle. Talk to me with respect."
He tried to sound stern, but even to his own ears, it came out weak.
His gaze flicked around the room. Relief touched him briefly when he realised they were in the living room. There was little within her reach besides a remote and whatever damage she could do with her fists.
Maybe that would save him.
Then Magano cried out.
"Ouch!"
Paige turned at once.
"What is it?"
Magano's hand flew to her chest. Her face twisted in pain.
She struggled for breath. Then she collapsed.
"Mom!"
Paige dropped beside her.
"I think... when Jonas kicked me in the ribs..." Magano gasped, fighting for air. "My heart got its share."
Jonas and Vivian went pale.
"She's lying. Jonas didn't—"
Vivian never got to finish her sentence.
Paige moved so fast it looked unreal.
One second Jonas was standing.
The next, he was on the floor with Paige on top of him, raining punches across his face so brutally that his jaw shifted with a sickening crack.
"Paige, stop!"
Vivian rushed forward, but Paige turned and struck her too.
One punch.
Then another.
Vivian flew backward, crashing across the living room with a scream.
"My face!" she shrieked, clutching her bleeding nose.
The guards and servants stood frozen. None of them dared step in.
Everyone in the house knew what Paige was. She was a trained martial artist. Fast. Precise. Dangerous. She could take down a room before the room understood it was under attack.
Jonas, dazed and bleeding beneath her, found himself absurdly grateful that she was only using her hands.
Then Paige reached for her waist. And pulled out a gun. The room went still.
"Paige, no!" Magano screamed.
But Paige only smiled.
It was not a sane smile. It was the kind of smile that came just before something irreversible.
"I wanted to wait until after Dad's funeral," she said, her head tilting slightly. "But... isn't this just the perfect time?"
She pulled the trigger.
BANG.
Silence followed.
A stunned, impossible silence.
Then—
THUD.
Paige's body hit the ground.
Unconscious.
The bullet missed Jonas and tore into the floor.
Jonas rolled aside, gasping, his heart trying to punch through his ribs. He staggered to his feet, still shaking from the sheer closeness of death. For one wild second, he thought he had been shot.
Then he saw Paige on the floor.
The drug.
It had worked after all—late, but not too late.
Magano crawled toward her daughter with a broken cry.
Paige's cap had fallen off. Her tinted glasses lay shattered nearby. Her long curls spread around her face like dark silk.
Even unconscious, she was breathtaking. Vivian stared at her, hatred tightening her mouth.
Did Magano really give birth to that girl?
The thought had barely crossed her mind when a small voice broke through the tension.
"What happened to Sis?"
Everyone turned.
A little girl stood at the hallway entrance, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Mom," she called softly, walking toward Magano.
Jonas recovered first.
"Here," he said abruptly, tossing a set of keys toward Magano.
His voice had regained some control now.
"There's a building registered in Paige's name among Victor's properties. It's on the outskirts of Goreangab. I had plans to renovate it in a few years, but you can stay there for now and get back on your feet. When I'm ready to turn it into a bar, you'll have enough time to move out. One of my drivers will escort you."
Magano caught the keys with trembling fingers.
She looked at Jonas, then at Paige, then at her children.
There was no point begging anymore.
Victor had been a secretive man. If he had hidden the truth of his properties, then perhaps the truth of this family would not stay buried forever either.
A little later, Magano sat in the back seat of a car with her children.
Paige's unconscious body rested against her lap.
Little Emily slept beside them, curled against her brother. Evan, trying too hard to be brave, stared out the window.
"Maybe this will give us a fresh start," he said quietly. "Well... given Dad's family business."
Magano looked down at Paige, then out into the dark road ahead.
"Your father worked hard to build those properties," she said. Her voice trembled, but not with weakness now. With anger. "It's just my heart... and now Paige... we can't go down without a fight."
Then Evan sniffed. His forehead creased.
"Mom... do you smell that?"
Magano froze. A second later, she smelled it too.
Smoke.
Thin at first. Then thick.
The driver kept his eyes ahead.
Fire crept in somewhere beneath them.
Magano's breath caught.
And then—
BOOM!
The car exploded mid-road, swallowed in a roar of fire.
Metal twisted. Glass burst.
Flames devoured everything.
Back at the mansion, Vivian lifted her champagne glass with a pleased smile.
"Cheers."
Jonas clinked his glass against hers.
"I can't have Paige in this world," he said coldly, "or anyone carrying Victor's blood, knowing one day they'll come for revenge. We'll have to pay the driver well. He risked his life for us."
Vivian laughed, slow and wicked.
"Tomorrow's headlines will read: Victor's bloodline wiped out as wife and children die in a fatal car crash, with the driver as the sole survivor."
Jonas laughed with her.