Chapter 4
Zubby dialed his lawyer’s number the moment he settled into his leather chair, the legal document spread out on his desk like a personal insult.
Kingsley picked up on the first ring. “I was about to call you. You’ve seen the papers?”
Zubby exhaled sharply, his fingers tapping against the armrest. “Yeah, I’ve seen them. Fraud? Illegal land acquisitions? And they had the nerve to include intimidation? Who the hell is feeding them this garbage?”
“Chief Emma.”
Zubby’s jaw clenched. “That bastard.”
Kingsley continued, “He’s built a strong case, Zubby. And Nena Okafor? She’s no joke. She’s filed the lawsuit under a special petition, pushing for an accelerated hearing.”
Zubby let out a humorless laugh. “She’s in a damn hurry, isn’t she?”
“It gets worse,” Kingsley sighed. “She’s not just after you. Obinna is named as well, and from what I gathered, she’s out for blood.”
Zubby’s smirk returned. “Let her come at me. She has no idea who she’s dealing with.”
“Don’t underestimate her, Zubby.” Kingsley’s tone was serious. “She has resources. And she’s aggressive.”
Zubby leaned forward, his expression dark. “Then I’ll pay her a visit myself.”
“That’s not a good idea—”
Zubby had already ended the call.
He pushed back from his desk, grabbing his keys. He had no patience for courtroom games. If Nena Okafor wanted a fight, she was going to get one.
Just as he reached for the door, his phone buzzed again. Vanessa’s name flashed on the screen.
His smirk faded. Now what the hell does she want?
Vanessa sank into her plush armchair, staring at the framed photograph on the table beside her. It was a picture of her and Zubby from years ago—before everything shattered. Her fingers traced his face, her jaw tightening.
"You think you can just move on?" she muttered under her breath.
She picked up her phone and dialed. The call was answered almost immediately.
“Vanessa, to what do I owe this honour?” The voice on the other end was smooth, calculating.
"I need something, and I need it fast."
“You always do. What is it this time?”
Her lips curled into a smile that held no warmth. "Zubby Daniels. I want every move he makes monitored. I don’t care how much it costs."
There was a pause. Then the voice replied, “That’s dangerous territory. What exactly are you looking for?”
Vanessa leaned back, exhaling slowly. "I’ll let you know when I find it. For now, just watch him. And if anything… interesting comes up, you know where to find me."
She ended the call and tossed her phone onto the couch. Zubby thought he had seen the last of her.
He was wrong.
Zubby parks his sleek black Rolls-Royce in front of the prestigious Okafor & Associates law firm, glancing up at the polished glass building with mild irritation. He wasn't one to be summoned, yet here he was, seeking out the woman who dared drag him to court. His lawyer had advised him to meet her in person, settle this nuisance before it became a media scandal.
Inside, he strides to the reception desk, exuding power and confidence. The secretary, a young woman with sharp eyes, barely flinches as he leans in.
“I need to see Nena Okafor,” Zubby states, his voice firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
The secretary, composed. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
Zubby’s lips curl into a smirk. “No. But I doubt she’d want to keep me waiting.”
The woman glances at her screen, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. Then, looking up, she says, “I’m sorry, sir, but Barrister Nena is currently out of the office.”
Zubby exhales sharply, irritation flickering in his eyes. He pulls a sleek business card from his pocket and slides it across the desk.
“Tell her to call me. Immediately.”
“I’ll be sure to pass the message.”
Zubby steps out of Okafor & Associates, his expression unreadable as he adjusts the cuffs of his designer suit. The audacity of Nena Okafor amused him—filing a lawsuit against him without even a conversation. She was a fiery one, no doubt, but if she thought she could intimidate him, she had another thing coming.
He slides into his Rolls-Royce, the soft leather molding to his body as he exhales sharply. With a flick of his wrist, the engine purrs to life. He’s about to shift into drive when—
A black sedan screeches to a stop right in front of him.
Zubby’s sharp eyes narrow. The vehicle had moved with precision, almost as if it had been waiting for him.
His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Instinct kicks in, a silent warning crawling up his spine.
Before he can react, the rear door of the sedan swings open.
And stepping out—Obinna Ike.
Zubby’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk.
“Well, well…” he mutters under his breath.
Obinna straightens his suit, his eyes cold, unreadable, but the tension in the air is unmistakable.
Zubby leans back into his seat, watching him through the windshield, his mind already racing ahead.
This just got interesting.
Zubby leaned back against the plush leather seat of the private lounge, swirling his glass of whiskey as he listened to Obinna rant.
“This is all Chief Emma’s doing,” Obinna spat, slamming his glass on the table. “He wants to ruin me, and now you’re caught in the crossfire.”
Zubby exhaled sharply. “You’re acting like we didn’t see this coming. I told you the old man was trouble. But dragging me into this? That’s a new level of audacity.”
Obinna rubbed his temple. “We need a strategy. That lawyer—Nene Okafor—she’s coming for blood.”
Zubby smirked, taking a slow sip. “Let her come. I’ll handle her.”
Before Obinna could respond, the lounge doors flung open with a dramatic force. The murmur of the elite crowd fell silent for a brief second before whispers filled the air.
Vanessa strutted in, her pink satin dress hugging her figure like a second skin. Her eyes locked onto Zubby, and the look she gave him could melt steel—if not set it on fire.
Behind her, two of her friends trailed closely, exuding the same aura of privilege and power.
“Wow,” Obinna muttered under his breath. “The hurricane has arrived.”
Zubby, unfazed, set his glass down and leaned forward. “Vanessa,” he greeted coolly, his voice laced with amusement.
Vanessa’s lips curled into a venomous smile. “Zubby Daniels,” she purred, stepping closer. “I almost forgot what a lying, two-faced, cowardly bastard you are. Almost.”
Obinna shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the exit, but Zubby remained seated, his smirk deepening.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he drawled.
Vanessa let out a laugh, sharp and cold. “You think this is a game? You think you can just keep living your charmed life while the people you destroy pick up the pieces?”
Zubby’s jaw twitched, but his exterior remained smooth. “You’re being dramatic, Vanessa.”
“Am I?” She stepped closer, placing both hands on the table and leaning in, her eyes flickering with rage. “You owe me. And I always collect.”
Zubby raised a brow. “Is that a threat?”
Vanessa smiled, slow and dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s a promise.”
Before he could respond, she turned on her heels and walked away, her friends following like shadows.
Obinna let out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”
Zubby exhaled, his fingers tightening around his glass. He had faced enemies in business, rivals in power—but Vanessa?
She was a storm waiting to be unleashed.
And this was just the beginning.
