Chapter5
824 Words
Enemies in the Mirror
Zara was pacing around her hotel suite, the sound of her heels clicking softly on the floor breaking the silence. The buzz from the news was inescapable. Clips from the gala were popping up everywhere, twisting what had been a simple kiss into a full-blown scandal that everyone seemed to have an opinion about, even people who didn’t know her. It felt completely unfair.
Her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Investors were starting to panic, wanting answers. Ngozi, who had been her mentor for years, had left two voice messages filled with disappointment rather than any helpful guidance. And even though her PR team in Lagos had quickly put out a statement trying to call the photo “misleading,” the internet had made up its mind about who she was and what this moment represented.
Zara felt frustration building inside her. She turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the couch. “This didn’t just happen,” she muttered under her breath, “Someone made sure it did.”
Amara, who was sitting at the desk sifting through the media coverage, looked up with a raised eyebrow. “You think it was a setup?” she asked, her tone curious.
Zara nodded. “I think someone wanted this story out there more than they cared about the actual moment.”
Amara took a moment to ponder this. “Well, only a handful of people had access to the press guest list. I mean, there’s the event team, Damian’s assistant, and then there’s Tari.”
At the mention of Tari, Zara felt her heart sink a little. “Tari?” she repeated, recalling all the times she’d gotten an uneasy feeling around him. The guy was overly polite and just too curious for comfort.
“Yeah, he was managing logistics on Damian’s side of things,” Amara explained.
Zara felt a tightening in her chest at the thought. “I don’t trust him,” she said flatly.
That evening, Zara found herself in the penthouse living room with her arms crossed tightly. Damian had just stepped in, taking off his coat with a calm expression.
“I need to ask you something,” she started, skipping any kind of casual greeting.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. “Sure, what’s going on?”
“Was your brother involved in leaking that photo?” she shot at him, not wasting any time.
Damian blinked in surprise. “Tari? No way. That’s not like him at all.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed. “Someone had access on your end, and all of this feels way too intentional.”
Damian looked shocked but not on the defensive at all. “You really think Tari would—”
“I think you’ve known him longer than I have,” she cut in. “But I’ve seen him in action. He’s too careful for his own good.”
Damian rubbed his forehead, taking a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll look into it.”
Zara nodded sharply. “I need you to do more than just look. I need answers.”
Later that night, Damian approached Tari at the hotel bar, finding him sipping a cocktail like nothing was wrong. There was no anger in his tone when he spoke. “You leaked the photo,” he stated simply.
Tari didn’t deny it, shrugging casually. “People were going to find out anyway. It’s better to control the narrative.”
“Why would you even do that?” Damian asked, genuinely confused.
“Because you’ve lost sight of who you are,” Tari replied without missing a beat, finally looking up. “You used to have drive. Now you’re wrapped up in this woman like she’s the only thing that matters.”
“She’s not just a mission to me,” Damian said quietly. “She’s my partner.”
“No,” Tari shot back, his voice sharp. “She’s your distraction.”
On the rooftop of the hotel, Zara sat by herself, her hoodie pulled over her head as a light drizzle fell, blurring the city below. She was exhausted—more than just from the news cycle. It was draining to always have to defend the space she’d fought hard to claim.
She didn’t notice Damian until he quietly joined her, offering her an umbrella.
“I know who leaked that photo,” he said, breaking the quiet.
Zara kept her gaze straight ahead. “Let me guess. Someone close to us?”
He nodded, and she couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, lacking any humor. “That’s the tricky thing about success. The knives always come from behind, not from the obvious threats.”
Neither of them said anything else. They just sat there, shoulder to shoulder, under the gentle rain, each lost in thought about
the consequences of what they were trying to build together.
- Writer
