Chapter 10: Exposed
924 Words
The storm hit faster than any of them expected.
Nneka Okoye’s phone rang at 7:12 a.m., shattering the fragile peace of the penthouse. It was Marcus Kane’s private number — the one only Adanna was supposed to have. Nneka answered immediately.
“Put Adanna on,” Marcus demanded, his voice tight with fury and panic. “Now.”
Adanna was already awake, sitting on the edge of her bed scrolling through messages. When Nneka handed her the phone, her face went pale within seconds.
“Marcus? What’s wrong?”
“There are photos, Adanna. Pictures of you leaving my house. My wife received them this morning from an anonymous source. Her investigator is all over it. She’s threatening to go public and destroy me in the press.” His voice cracked. “Did you tell anyone? Did you post anything stupid?”
Adanna’s hands began to shake. “I didn’t. I swear. I was careful.”
But they both knew the truth. Elena Voss had made her move.
By 9 a.m., all four women were gathered in the living room in crisis mode. Ifeoma “Ife” Nwosu was already on her laptop, trying to trace the leak and monitor social media for any spread.
“This is bad,” Ife said, her voice grim. “The photos are blurry but recognizable. If they go wider, we’re finished. Marcus Kane is too high-profile. His wife’s family has major entertainment connections. One tabloid pickup and Velvet Concierge becomes national news.”
Chinelo “Chine” Adeyemi paced angrily. “I told you we should have hit Elena first. Now look. They’re coming straight for our biggest client.”
Nneka stood motionless by the window, her mind racing through damage control options. “Adanna, you need to go dark with Marcus immediately. No contact until we stabilize this. Chine, cancel everything you had lined up for the next week. We are operating on minimum visibility.”
Adanna looked devastated. “He said he was leaving her. He promised…”
“Promises don’t matter right now,” Nneka cut in sharply. “Your heart got us into this mess. Now we clean it up.”
The argument that followed was one of the ugliest they’d had.
Chine accused Adanna of being selfish and reckless.
Ife accused Chine of making the target on their backs even bigger.
Adanna broke down crying, torn between guilt and the fear of losing the one man who made her feel seen.
Nneka tried to hold them together, but the sisterhood was visibly fracturing under pressure.
By midday, Marcus sent a final message to Adanna before going silent: I need space. My lawyers are handling this. Don’t contact me until I say so. I’m sorry.
Adanna read it repeatedly, tears streaming down her face. The fantasy she had built in her head was crumbling in real time.
Later that evening, as they prepared for the high-stakes rapper’s party the next night, the tension remained thick.
Ife pulled Nneka aside in the office. “We should cancel the party. It’s too risky right now. Elena is watching our every move.”
“We can’t,” Nneka replied. “We need that money, and canceling would make us look weak. We go, but we run it like a military operation. In and out. No unnecessary risks.”
Chine, still fuming from the morning fight, approached Adanna who was sitting alone on the rooftop terrace.
“Hey,” Chine said, softer than usual. “I know I came at you hard earlier. But we’ve all made mistakes. The important thing is how we fight back.”
Adanna wiped her eyes. “I really thought he was different. I thought I could have both — the soft life and something real.”
Chine sat beside her. “Maybe you still can. But right now, we need you focused. This party tomorrow could bring in serious money and new powerful allies. We show Elena we’re not broken.”
For the first time in days, a small spark of unity returned between them.
That night, Ife made a quiet decision. While the others slept, she finalized the paperwork for her legitimate luxury concierge consulting company. She had enough saved to walk away cleanly — if she could convince at least one of the others to come with her. But she wasn’t ready to tell them yet.
Nneka, as always, couldn’t sleep. She stood at her usual spot by the window, staring at the city that had given her everything and was now threatening to take it all back. She thought about her journey from Lagos to Inglewood cleaning jobs to this penthouse. She had survived worse. She would survive this too.
But deep down, she wondered how much longer she could hold the four of them together.
The next evening, as they prepared to leave for the rapper’s mansion party in the Hollywood Hills, another anonymous message arrived on the Velvet secure line:
Enjoy the party tonight. It might be your last.
Elena’s signature was clear.
The women looked at each other — dressed to kill, makeup flawless, hearts heavy.
Nneka straightened her shoulders. “We go in together. We leave together. No matter what happens tonight, remember who we are.”
Adanna, Chine, Ife, and Nneka stepped into the elevator as a unit, even as invisible fractures ran through their foundation.
The soft lights of the Hollywood Hills awaited them — bright, seductive, and full of new dangers.
The real test of Velvet Concierge had only just begun.
- Writer
