Watch Him Break.
467 Words
The words left Amara’s mouth and the world didn’t end.
It just got quiet.
Too quiet.
“I don’t love him. I never did.”
The host blinked like she’d been slapped.
“Mrs. Adewale, are you saying the press conference earlier today was staged?”
Amara nodded once.
Her throat felt like glass.
“Yes. Damien threatened me. I was afraid for my family.”
The chat on the live feed exploded.
_#AdewaleLiar_ was trending before she finished speaking.
Back at the penthouse, Damien heard it on the TV he’d left on.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t break the glass in his hand until blood ran down his palm.
Mr. Bamidele stood up, pale.
“Sir—”
“Out,” Damien said. One word. Ice.
The board member left without another sound.
Damien stared at the screen.
Amara looked straight into the camera.
No tears. No hesitation.
Just a lie delivered like a knife to his chest.
His phone buzzed.
Her number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Amara.”
Her voice came through, low and broken.
“Don’t come for me, Damien.”
“Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
There was a pause. Then she whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
The line went dead.
Damien threw the phone across the room.
It shattered against the wall.
5 hours 18 minutes.
He knew.
He knew it wasn’t her.
No one could fake that look in her eyes.
Someone had her. Someone had her father.
And she’d chosen to burn him to save them.
His jaw locked.
Fine.
If they wanted war, they’d get war.
He grabbed his keys, coat, and stormed out.
“Get me the location on that broadcast van,” he told his head of security over the phone. “Now.”
“Damien!” Mr. Bamidele’s voice stopped him at the elevator.
“The board is calling an emergency meeting. If you walk out now, they’ll vote you out.”
Damien didn’t stop.
“Let them vote.”
The doors closed.
Down at the studio, Amara stepped off the stage.
Her legs gave out the second the cameras were off.
The woman in the black suit grabbed her arm.
“Good job. Your father’s next session is confirmed.”
Amara ripped her arm away.
“And if I say one more word?”
“You’ll never see him again.”
Amara’s phone buzzed.
A new message. Not from the unknown number.
*Damien:* _I’m coming for you. Don’t you dare believe I’m done._
Amara stared at the screen until her vision blurred.
She’d just destroyed him on national TV.
And he was still coming for her.
5 hours 12 minutes.
The countdown wasn’t the only thing running out.
[To Be Continued…]
- Writer
