BEHIND ME

Kyra tilted her head. “Easier than what?” Lina hesitated — long enough for Kyra to almost take the question back. Then she whispered, “Easier than remembering.” Kyra said nothing. She waited, sensing something deeper beneath those words. “My father,” Lina began quietly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her calm. “His name is Tokaya. You’ve probably heard it before.” Kyra froze. Of course she had. Everyone in the city knew that name — the gangster who ran the streets, whose temper could turn deadly with a single word. “He’s not just feared,” Lina continued, staring at her hands. “He’s cruel. To everyone. To me.” Her voice cracked. “Sometimes I think he hates that I exist. But people don’t care — they only see his name, his shadow. So they look at me like I’m part of it.” Kyra’s heart softened instantly. She didn’t know what to say — she only knew she wanted to. > “You’re not him,” Kyra said softly. “You don’t have to carry what he’s done.” Lina finally looked up, her eyes glos Kyra smiled gently. “Maybe I do.” Their eyes lingered a second too long, the space between them filled with unspoken warmth. Neither called it friendship, and neither dared call it more. But something shifted that night — something real, fragile, and alive. --- --- Chapter 3 — Paris, a City That Listened The flight felt endless, but when the plane began to descend and the lights of Paris shimmered beneath the clouds, something inside Kyra eased. For once, her mother’s voice couldn’t reach her. The company’s conference had brought them here, yet nothing about the city felt like work. It felt like air — new, gentle, unpredictable. A mix-up at the hotel left them with one room instead of two. Kyra had offered to fix it immediately, but Lina shook her head quickly. > “It’s fine, ma’am. I don’t mind sharing.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes weren’t. That first night was awkward — polite smiles, two separate beds, the city murmuring outside their window. But little by little, the tension softened. They talked about the food, the lights, the language neither could pronounce correctly. They laughed until the distance between them didn’t feel forbidden anymore. The next few days turned into quiet adventures: morning coffee on the balcony, walking through narrow streets, a sudden rainstorm that had them running under one umbrella. Paris gave them permission to forget who they were supposed to be. By the time they sat together beside the Seine, watching boats drift under golden bridges, Kyra felt the truth she’d been hiding rise in her chest — the way Lina’s laughter made her forget the life waiting back home. > “You make everything quieter,” Kyra said softly. “And you make me feel seen,” Lina replied. --- Chapter Four — The Choice It had been weeks since they returned from Paris, but the city still lived quietly in Kyra’s heart. She smiled more now — not the polite smile she gave in meetings, but the soft, real kind that came from somewhere deep. Her mother noticed. At first, Kate thought it was simply the relief of finishing the conference. But soon, she realized the truth. The glow in her daughter’s eyes wasn’t from work — it was from someone. And that someone was Lina. One afternoon, Kate stood by the window, watching Kyra and Lina laugh together in the garden below. Something inside her snapped. > “This ends now,” she whispered. That evening, she called Kyra into the sitting room. The air was heavy, the silence sharper than words. > “I see how you look at that girl,” Kate began coldly. “You’ve forgotten who you are. Forgotten where you come from.” Kyra met her gaze, unflinching. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m just tired of living by your rules.” > “She’s the daughter of a gangster, Kyra!” Kate’s voice trembled with anger. “Do you understand what people will say? Do you want to destroy this family’s name?” > “Maybe I just don’t care about the name anymore,” Kyra said softly. “Maybe I just care about being happy.” Kate’s heart hardened. She arranged a dinner with Wave — the man she still insisted was Kyra’s future. She filled the evening with music, wine, and false smiles, hoping that one night would be enough to make her daughter forget. But Kyra never drank the wine. She saw through it all — the manipulation, the desperation, the fear. When the dinner ended, she stood up and looked at her mother one last time. > “You’ve chosen my life for me since I was born. But this time, I’m choosing for myself.” The next morning, Kyra resigned from the family company. She walked away from the mansion, the name, the wealth — everything that had once defined her. Lina was waiting outside. She didn’t speak; she just took Kyra’s hand. And that was enough. --- Months Later… The city learned to whisper their names — first in shock, then in quiet acceptance. Kyra opened a small art studio. Lina worked beside her, building something of their own — something that belonged to no one else. One morning, Kate appeared at the doorway. She looked older, smaller, her pride worn thin by loneliness. > “You look happy,” she said quietly. Kyra smiled. “I am.” Kate’s voice broke. “I was wrong. I thought I was protecting you. But I was only trying to protect myself.” She reached for her daughter’s hand, tears glistening. “If she’s the one who makes you whole… then I can’t stand in your way.” --- Years later, the studio walls were lined with paintings — colors of peace, freedom, and love. A little girl ran through the halls, her laughter echoing like sunlight. Kyra looked at Lina and smiled. > “We did it,” she whispered. Lina nodded, eyes soft. “No, love — you did it. You found yourself.” And as their daughter’s laughter filled the room, Kyra finally understood: love wasn’t rebellion — it was freedom. --- THE DEVIL IN HER --- Chapter 1 – The Game Begins The chandeliers of the Wells estate burned brighter than ever that night. Gold light spilled over marble floors, catching the shimmer of crystal glasses and the gleam of designer shoes. Every corner of the mansion murmured with power—ministers laughing too loudly, investors shaking hands over billion-naira deals, journalists pretending not to stare at the two women who ruled the room. Karina Wells stood at the base of the grand staircase, her gown the color of midnight. Even after years of retirement from public life, she still carried the quiet command that once made construction giants bow to her. Beside her, Lina Wells—calmer, softer, but with eyes that missed nothing—smiled as guests offered congratulations for their daughter’s return from London. “Do you think she’ll like all this?” Lina asked, her voice nearly lost under the orchestra. Karina’s lips curved. “She’d better. I didn’t summon half the government to this house for her to sulk.” “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” Lina teased. “She always does.” Outside, camera flashes flared. The limousine had arrived. Samantha Wells stepped out as if she’d never been gone. Long waves of chestnut hair, a fitted black suit that said London had taught her more than business, and that same slow, confident smile her mothers shared. For a moment the crowd forgot to breathe. Reporters called her name; she lifted one manicured hand, acknowledging them like a queen acknowledging her court. Inside, as she entered the hall, applause rose like a tide. Karina’s heart clenched—not from pride, but from recognition. The girl she’d raised had grown into something sharper. There was calculation in Samantha’s gaze, the measured way she greeted dignitaries, the small pause before each smile. Lina slipped her arm through her wife’s. “She has your fire.” Karina exhaled through a quiet laugh. “Let’s hope she learned not to burn everything with it.” Samantha moved through the room with a grace that turned heads. She greeted family friends, shook hands with old partners, and absorbed compliments with practiced charm. When a journalist asked what her goals were now that she’d returned, she gave a perfect answer—something about expanding the company’s international portfolio and strengthening community projects. Everyone applauded. But her eyes never stopped scanning the room. Across the sea of faces, a small group stood near the champagne bar—men from David Construction. Even from a distance, she recognized the silver pin on their lapels. Her smile tightened for a second before softening again. The rivalry between Wells and David had been the stuff of headlines for a decade. Tonight, both sides had been forced under one roof by the size of the celebration. Karina noticed her daughter’s glance. “Don’t start anything,” she warned softly. “I won’t,” Samantha said, voice low, eyes glinting. “Not yet.” The orchestra shifted to a slower rhythm, couples stepping onto the dance floor. Samantha accepted a flute of champagne and excused herself from a group of investors. She needed air—and information. On the balcony, Lagos shimmered below like a web of golden veins. The scent of sea salt mixed with perfume and expensive whiskey. That was when she heard a voice behind her, light and amused. “I thought I was the only one sneaking away from the crowd.” Samantha turned. A woman in a scarlet dress stood by the doorway, holding her heels in one hand. She had hair the color of honey and eyes that didn’t shy away. There was something familiar about her—something that made Samantha’s pulse quicken. “I’m Helena,” the woman said. “Helena David.” The name hit like a spark to fuel. Samantha smiled—slowly, dangerously. “Well,” she murmured, tilting her glass, “I guess hell finally came to my party.” --- Chapter 2 – The Game Unfolds Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the Wells mansion, cutting through the soft haze of perfume and last night’s celebration. The house was quiet now, except for the rhythmic clicking of Chiara Wells’s heels against the marble floor. Even in the early hours, she looked unshakable — sharp white suit, phone in hand, already deep in conversation. “Make sure the government delegates are seated before we arrive,” she told her secretary, then glanced toward the grand staircase. “Samantha, I hope you’re not still upstairs.” “I’m coming, Mother,” Samantha’s smooth voice echoed back. She appeared moments later, flawless as ever — hair neatly tied, lips painted a deep rose, her stride calm and confident. No trace of fatigue, no hint of the storm that had kept her awake thinking about Helena David. “Big day,” Chiara said as they walked toward the car. “This contract could define our company for the next decade. The press will be watching. The delegates will be watching. Don’t give them a reason to doubt us.” Samantha smiled faintly. “You taught me everything I know about winning. Don’t worry.” They arrived at the towering Wells & Co. headquarters in New York City, where cameras and bodyguards filled the lobby. The air was charged — the kind of tension that only existed when power and billions were at stake. Inside the boardroom, government officials, executives, and media representatives filled the seats. The rival companies had also been invited. And among them — David Industries. Mr. David stood near the front, tall and calculating, his presence commanding attention. Beside him was Helena, in a sleek navy suit that caught the light each time she moved. Her confidence was quiet but magnetic, the kind that made people stop mid-sentence. Chiara’s expression hardened. “Of course, they’re here.” Samantha’s voice was calm. “Let me handle it.” As the introductions began, Samantha greeted Mr. David with a practiced smile and firm handshake. “Pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” “I’ve heard about the Wells empire,” he said. “Impressive work for such a young lady.” “I could say the same about your daughter,” Samantha replied, her gaze flicking toward Helena. Helena tilted her head, half-smiling. “Careful with compliments, Miss Wells. Rivalry can turn sweet words into weapons.” Their eyes met — and something unspoken charged the air between them. The presentation started. Charts, graphs, numbers, projections — the usual corporate dance. Chiara spoke with precision, confidence cutting through the room. But Samantha’s focus kept drifting to Helena. Every time Helena’s voice joined the discussion — confident, clear, slightly teasing — it stirred something that had nothing to do with business. When the session ended, applause broke out. Both Wells & Co. and David Industries were shortlisted for the National Housing Expansion Project, a billion-dollar contract that could make or break either company. Outside the boardroom, reporters swarmed for statements. Chiara smiled for the cameras while Samantha slipped quietly into the side corridor — calculating her next move. She found Helena by the elevators, flipping through her notes. “Good presentation,” Samantha said, her voice low and warm. Helena turned, one brow raised. “Is that from a rival… or a spy?” Samantha laughed softly. “Maybe both. Look, we’re going to be working in the same circles for a while. How about we stop acting like enemies? Just… get a drink. Talk. I promise not to steal your blueprints.” Helena smirked. “A drink? My father would lose his mind.” “Then let’s make it worth it.” Samantha stepped closer, her tone dipping. “There’s a rooftop bar at the Grand Meridian Hotel. Quiet. Private. Great view of the city. One drink — as colleagues.” Helena studied her for a long moment before replying, “Fine. One drink. But if you try anything sneaky, I’ll know.” “I’d expect nothing less,” Samantha said, her lips curving. “See you tonight, Miss David.” The elevator doors slid shut behind Helena, leaving Samantha standing there — smiling to herself, a storm quietly brewing behind her calm. Back in the lobby, Chiara’s voice called out, “Everything all right?” Samantha turned, all charm again. “Perfect, Mother. I just met our biggest threat.” Chiara frowned. “Then what are you smiling about?” Samantha slipped her sunglasses on. “Because she doesn’t know she’s already playing my game.” And as she walked toward the glass doors, the city skyline gleamed in front of her — bright, ruthless, and ready for war.