Ochieng weighed his options carefully, his gaze never leaving Elara's. He had spent years learning to read people, dissecting their words, peeling back their masks. But with her, it had always been different.
Because Elara didn't wear masks.
She was the mask.
And that made trusting her a fatal mistake.
Still, if what she said about Veyron was true, then the enemy he thought he was facing was far bigger than he imagined.
"You're lying," Ochieng said finally, crossing his arms.
Elara raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"About working against Veyron. You're a survivor, Elara. You don't pick fights you can't win."
A slow smirk spread across her lips. "And yet, here I am. Standing on the losing side."
Ochieng didn't reply. He was watching her too carefully.
A single shift in her breathing. The subtle flicker in her pupils. A hesitation too small for an ordinary man to catch—but he wasn't ordinary.
She was hiding something.
And he had to find out what.
---
"Let's say I believe you," Ochieng said. "Let's say Veyron is the monster you claim he is. Why would I trust the woman who once sold me out to my enemies?"
Elara's smirk faltered for just a second—just long enough for him to catch it.
"You're still alive, aren't you?" she said.
Ochieng's jaw clenched. "Don't play games with me."
Elara exhaled, then reached into her coat. He tensed, ready for an attack—
But she pulled out a black envelope.
It was wax-sealed. Unmarked. But the weight of it alone told Ochieng it carried more than just words.
"This is Veyron's next move," Elara said, extending it toward him.
He didn't take it. Not yet.
"What's in it?"
"Names. Locations. He's been planning something bigger than you realize. The city's power structure is shifting, and you're not at the top of it anymore, Ochieng. Veyron is."
Ochieng finally took the envelope, his fingers grazing hers for a brief second. Cold. Calculating.
He tore the seal open.
Inside were five names.
One of them was his.
---
Ochieng felt something coil in his chest—a slow, simmering rage.
Veyron wasn't just targeting his enemies.
He was coming after him.
He turned his gaze back to Elara, but she was already moving, stepping toward the warehouse door.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She paused, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "To make my next move."
"Without me?"
She smiled. "Oh, Ochieng… you've never needed anyone to fight your battles. But this time? If you're not careful—"
She tapped the envelope still in his hands.
"You won't live long enough to win."
And just like that, she was gone, slipping into the night.
Ochieng stood in the dim warehouse, fingers tightening around the paper, heartbeat steady even as the storm inside him raged.
Veyron had made his move.
Now it was Ochieng's turn.
---