The air smelled of burnt rubber and expensive cologne as Rolex led Ochieng and Celestine toward a sleek black limousine parked under the flickering neon glow of a nearby streetlight. Ochieng's gut twisted with unease. He didn't trust Rolex, but right now, he didn't have a choice.
Celestine was barely holding on, her body weak against Ochieng's side. He could feel the shallow rise and fall of her breath, her skin burning with fever. Every part of him screamed to take her far away from all of this, but where could they go?
"You're quiet, Ochieng," Rolex said, breaking the silence as he slid into the limousine. He poured himself a drink, swirling the amber liquid in his crystal glass. "Second thoughts?"
Ochieng took a deep breath before stepping in, his eyes scanning the interior. The plush leather seats, the faint scent of imported whiskey, the polished metal accents—it was luxury beyond his reach. Rolex lived in a world where money solved everything, but Ochieng had spent his life fighting for survival.
"I don't trust you," Ochieng said flatly, lowering Celestine onto the seat beside him.
Rolex grinned, leaning back with the air of a king. "Good. That means you're smart." He took a sip of his drink, watching Ochieng over the rim of the glass. "But trust isn't required for business. Just loyalty… when the time comes."
Ochieng clenched his fists.
"You said you could help her," he said, his voice tight. "Do it."
Rolex tapped the armrest, and a hidden panel slid open, revealing a first-aid kit more advanced than anything Ochieng had ever seen. A silent figure—one of Rolex's men—moved forward, expertly tending to Celestine's wound.
"She'll be fine," Rolex said lazily. "But let's talk about your future, Ochieng. Because whether you realize it or not, your world is about to change."
Ochieng's muscles tensed. "What do you want from me?"
Rolex smiled like a man who had already won. "Simple. I want you to be mine."
The words hung in the air like a blade hovering over his neck.
Ochieng narrowed his eyes. "I don't belong to anyone."
Rolex laughed. "Not in that way, my friend. I mean, I want you on my side. With me. Working for me."
Ochieng's jaw tightened. "And if I say no?"
Rolex set his glass down, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker.
"Then you'll be standing alone in a war you can't win."
The weight of those words pressed against Ochieng's chest. He thought of Brian, Seline, Gideon—of all the people who had betrayed him, mocked him, tried to break him. He thought of Celestine, unconscious beside him, her life hanging by a thread.
And he thought of the man he had always been—the fighter, the survivor, the boy who had grown up with nothing.
His fate was balancing on a knife's edge.
Rolex leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Tell me, Ochieng…" His lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Are you ready to be great?"
Ochieng stared into Rolex's eyes, feeling the weight of his own destiny pressing down on him.
And then, slowly, he nodded.
The deal was sealed.