Chapter 4 :- The Black Suv
736 Words
Daniel's instincts screamed at him to run.
The man in the black suit stood only a few feet away, his expression calm but intimidating. Outside the café, the black SUV idled at the curb, its tinted windows hiding whoever was inside.
"I asked you a question," Daniel said firmly. "Who is your employer?"
The stranger smiled faintly.
"A man who wants to help you."
Daniel laughed without humor. "People who want to help don't send death threats."
The man's face hardened.
"My instructions are simple. You come with me willingly, or we make a scene."
Daniel glanced at Zara. She remained seated, but her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
Don't go.
Before the stranger could move, Daniel grabbed his coffee and threw it into the man's face.
The café erupted in confusion.
Customers screamed as hot coffee splashed across the stranger's suit. In the brief moment of chaos, Daniel seized Zara's hand.
"Run!"
They dashed through the kitchen while waiters shouted behind them. A chef stepped aside just in time as they pushed through the back door into a narrow alley.
Rain from the previous night had left puddles everywhere. Their footsteps echoed between the buildings.
"They'll follow us!" Zara shouted.
"I know!"
Behind them, angry voices filled the alley.
"There they are!"
Daniel looked back. Three men were chasing them.
At the end of the alley, they reached a busy road. Without thinking, Daniel hailed a passing taxi.
The driver hesitated.
"I'll pay double," Daniel said as he and Zara climbed inside.
The taxi sped away just as the black SUV emerged from the alley.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Finally, the driver dropped them outside an old bookstore on the outskirts of Lagos Island.
Daniel paid him and waited until the taxi disappeared.
"Why here?" Zara asked.
"Because no one knows this place belongs to my late mother."
She looked surprised.
"I thought she died years ago."
"She did. But she left this shop to me."
Daniel unlocked the dusty wooden door.
The air inside smelled of old books and polished wood. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, untouched for years.
"My mother loved books," he said quietly. "She always believed every answer could be found if you searched long enough."
Zara smiled.
"Maybe she was right."
They climbed the narrow staircase to a small office upstairs.
Daniel removed the flash drive from his pocket.
"This better be worth almost getting kidnapped."
He switched on an old laptop that had remained in the office.
The flash drive contained dozens of files.
Company records.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
Voice recordings.
One folder caught Daniel's attention.
PROJECT PHOENIX
He opened it.
Inside was a scanned agreement showing millions of naira transferred through fake companies over several years.
Every transaction had been approved by three signatures.
Chief Emmanuel Durojaiye.
Richard Okeke.
Chief Benson Adeyemi.
Daniel's uncle.
His hands trembled.
"This can't be real."
"It is," Zara said softly.
"I've spent two years investigating them."
Daniel stared at the signatures.
"If my uncle was involved, then why accuse my father?"
"Because your father discovered the fraud."
Silence filled the room.
Daniel remembered every time Uncle Benson had encouraged him to stop searching.
Every conversation.
Every excuse.
Every warning.
It suddenly made sense.
A loud crash downstairs shattered the silence.
Both of them froze.
Someone had forced the front door open.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the bookstore.
Daniel quickly closed the laptop.
"They found us," Zara whispered.
"But how?"
No one should have known about the bookstore.
Unless...
Daniel's face turned pale.
"The taxi."
"The driver?"
"He must have informed them."
The footsteps grew louder.
One floor below.
Then another sound.
A familiar voice.
"Daniel!"
It was Uncle Benson.
"My boy, I know you're here."
Daniel's heart pounded.
His uncle sounded calm.
Almost caring.
"I've come to protect you," the older man called out.
Zara looked at Daniel.
"Don't answer."
But Daniel couldn't stop thinking.
Was his uncle truly the villain?
Or had someone framed him as well?
Another voice echoed from downstairs.
This one was cold.
Impatient.
"We're running out of time."
Daniel slowly peered through a crack in the office door.
His uncle wasn't alone.
The man from the café stood beside him.
And both of them were carrying guns.
Daniel stepped back, barely breathing.
Whatever happened next would determine whether he uncovered the truth...
Or became the next victim buried without answers.
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