The weight of silence in the room was suffocating. Every student, professor, and elite who had once ridiculed Ochieng as a mere background figure now watched in sheer disbelief.
The bowing man in the dark suit, the silent convoy waiting outside, the name "Sir" that echoed through the hall—all of it shattered the illusion.
Lena's face drained of color. Her mind raced, replaying every moment she had dismissed Ochieng as unworthy of attention.
"W-Who… are you?" she stammered, stepping back.
Ochieng slowly rose from his seat, his sharp eyes scanning the room. The expression on his face remained unreadable. He had played the role of a commoner long enough.
Then, he spoke—his voice low but commanding.
"I am the leader of the Eight Provinces."
Gasps erupted. The Eight Provinces— the governing body that silently controlled the nation's economic, political, and underworld operations. They were beyond kings, beyond presidents. They were untouchable.
And the one standing before them, whom they had mocked, was their leader.
—
The black SUVs roared through the city, heading towards The Imperial Pearl Hotel, the most luxurious skyscraper in the country. The entire building had been closed off for one reason—the arrival of Ochieng.
From the moment he stepped out of the car, the world seemed to shift. Rows of elite businessmen, foreign dignitaries, underground bosses, and political titans all stood in reverence.
Ochieng walked through them, his presence demanding respect.
Tielen, always the smooth talker, chuckled beside him. "They're all waiting for your next move."
Ochieng adjusted his cufflinks, his gaze landing on the stage where a golden emblem of the Eight Provinces shone under the crystal chandeliers.
He turned to Tielen. "Tonight, I'm taking everything that was stolen from me."
—
Just as the gala was at its peak, a single message appeared on Ochieng's encrypted phone.
"Do you want the truth about your parents?"
His grip tightened. For years, their deaths had been a mystery. A car accident, they said. A mere tragedy. But now…
He stood up. "Tielen, handle the gala. I have unfinished business."
Tielen's smirk vanished. He nodded. "I'll cover for you."
Ochieng slipped into the back corridors, his mind racing. If someone dared to bring this up now, they either wanted him to find the truth… or walk into a trap.
Either way, he was ready.