The mansion felt colder than usual. Shadows stretched across the grand hall, the dim glow of the chandeliers casting flickering patterns on the marble floor.
Elaine's voice broke the silence. "Jafari's not just sending assassins."
Ochieng studied her expression. "What do you mean?"
Elaine placed a folder on the table. "He's buying out loyalty. People we thought were on our side… are shifting."
Veronica cursed under her breath. "So it's not just a war of blood. It's a war of power."
Elaine nodded. "And money."
Ochieng remained silent for a moment, then turned to Veronica. "Who's still with us?"
Veronica hesitated. "For now? The old guard. But if Jafari keeps throwing money around…"
Ochieng exhaled. He had expected this.
Jafari wasn't a man who relied solely on brute force. He corroded. He poisoned.
And if Ochieng wasn't careful, he'd wake up surrounded by traitors.
---
Midnight.
The estate was silent except for the distant hum of security cameras.
Ochieng lay awake, his instincts refusing to let him sleep.
Then—a creak.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
He listened.
Another creak.
Closer.
Then—the cold steel of a blade pressing against his throat.
"Don't move."
The voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
Ochieng opened his eyes slowly, his gaze locking onto Jonah.
His right-hand man.
Ochieng didn't flinch. "So you've chosen your side."
Jonah's grip on the knife tightened. "It's not personal."
Ochieng smirked. "It never is."
Jonah hesitated. Just for a second.
It was all Ochieng needed.
In a flash, he grabbed Jonah's wrist, twisting sharply. The knife dropped. Ochieng moved—fast—slamming Jonah into the wall.
Jonah gasped as Ochieng's forearm pressed against his throat.
"You picked the wrong side," Ochieng whispered.
Jonah struggled. "You… won't win."
Ochieng's grip tightened.
Jonah's eyes widened in panic.
Then—a sharp snap.
The body slumped to the floor.
Ochieng exhaled, rubbing his temples.
The war had officially begun.
---
By sunrise, the estate was on lockdown. Security doubled. Every movement watched.
Elaine stood by the balcony, watching the horizon. "They're coming, aren't they?"
Ochieng poured himself a drink. "Of course."
Veronica entered the room. "Then we need allies. Real ones."
Ochieng nodded. "Call a meeting."
Elaine raised an eyebrow. "A meeting with who?"
Ochieng took a sip of his drink, his voice calm.
"With every kingpin, boss, and warlord in Nairobi."
Elaine's expression turned grim. "That's a death wish."
Ochieng smirked. "No. That's war."
---
That night, in a hidden location deep within the city, the gathering took place.
The room was filled with the most powerful and dangerous figures in Nairobi.
Crime lords. Business tycoons. Corrupt politicians.
And at the center of it all—Ochieng.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
"You all know why we're here," he said.
Silence.
Then, a voice.
"You expect us to choose your side?"
Ochieng's eyes locked onto the man who spoke—Rashid. A ruthless kingpin who controlled half the city's underground trade.
Ochieng smirked. "No."
He leaned forward.
"I expect you to survive."
The tension in the room thickened.
Ochieng continued. "Jafari isn't just after me. He's after power. And when he takes it… he won't share."
Rashid clenched his jaw.
Ochieng's voice turned sharp. "So ask yourself—when he's done with me, who's next?"
Silence.
Then—one by one—heads began to nod.
Ochieng stood.
"This war isn't about choosing sides. It's about making sure there's a city left to rule."
A murmur of agreement.
The meeting was over.
And the war had just begun.
---
Two days later.
Ochieng sat in his car, watching the streets.
Then—BOOM.
An explosion rocked the city.
Veronica's voice came through the earpiece. "Ochieng, we have a problem."
Ochieng's jaw tightened. "Where?"
"Everywhere."
Another explosion. Then gunfire.
Jafari had made his move.
Ochieng stepped out of the car, his eyes burning with fury.
"Then let's end this."
---