Ochieng's footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor as he approached a hidden elevator within The Imperial Pearl Hotel. A single, untraceable message had led him here—a place only those with unimaginable power could access.
The doors slid open, revealing a man in a pristine white suit, his silver hair slicked back, eyes as sharp as daggers.
"Ochieng," the man greeted, his voice dripping with amusement. "You finally came."
Ochieng's expression remained cold. "You have one minute to tell me what you know."
The man chuckled, swirling a glass of wine. "Your parents didn't die in an accident. They were eliminated."
The world seemed to pause. Ochieng's fingers twitched.
He had suspected it. But hearing it confirmed sent ice through his veins.
The man placed a single file on the table. Inside were photographs—blurred but damning. His father, his mother… surrounded by masked figures before their so-called 'accident.'
And in the corner of one image… a ring. A crest belonging to one of the Eight Provinces.
Ochieng's eyes darkened. "Who?"
The man smirked. "That's for you to find out."
—
Leaving the hotel, Ochieng's mind burned with rage. Someone within his own empire had betrayed him—had taken his parents' lives.
As his Aston Martin Valkyrie, customized with an obsidian-black finish and the number plate OCH-1, sped through the neon-lit streets, his phone rang.
Tielen's voice was sharp. "Ochieng, get out of there. You're being followed."
Ochieng glanced at the rearview mirror. Three black Mercedes G-Wagons, tinted windows, no plates.
Assassins.
A twisted smile formed on his lips. They wanted a fight? He'd give them a massacre.
He downshifted, the roar of his engine piercing the night, and slammed the accelerator. The chase had begun.
—
The Mercedes SUVs flanked him, trying to box him in. But Ochieng wasn't just some rich heir.
He yanked the wheel, spinning into a sharp alley. The SUVs followed—but that was their mistake.
Before they could react, Ochieng slammed the brakes, drifted sideways, and pulled out a custom-modified pistol from his glove compartment.
Bang!
A single shot—clean and precise—pierced the tire of the lead vehicle. It spiraled out of control, crashing into the alley walls.
Ochieng smirked. "One down."
But before he could celebrate, the second SUV rammed into his rear bumper, sending sparks flying.
He gritted his teeth. They were more aggressive than he expected.
Fine. If they wanted to play dirty, he'd show them hell.
With a flick of his wrist, he pressed a hidden button beneath the dashboard.
The reinforced steel plating along his car's rear extended outward—turning his luxury vehicle into a war machine.
The next time the SUV tried to hit him, the impact shattered its own grille.
In the rearview mirror, Ochieng saw the confusion on the driver's face. That moment of hesitation was all he needed.
He spun the wheel, cutting across the highway. The last assassin car tried to follow—only for an incoming 18-wheeler truck to obliterate it in an explosion of metal and fire.
The chase was over.
Ochieng exhaled, gripping the wheel.
This was no random attack.
Someone wanted him dead.
And now, he had a reason to dig even deeper.
If the Eight Provinces had a traitor…
Ochieng would burn them to the ground.