Marcus Mwanga was a man whose name was known in whispers and locked files, never out in the open, never on record. Behind his polished facade and high-powered connections lay a web of darkness—fraudulent ventures, illicit trades, blackmail rings, and a trail of corpses stretching across continents. He wasn't just ruthless; he was surgical, eliminating anyone who even remotely threatened to unmask his true identity. Business partners, journalists, insiders—once they knew too much, they vanished without a trace.
He funded shell companies, laundered billions through dummy charities, orchestrated cyber-heists, and rigged high-stakes deals in international arms and drug trades. And all the while, he wore the mask of a respectable businessman. But there was one secret that haunted him—a secret that had once been buried, but now clawed its way back into the open.
Linda.
She was indeed the daughter of his own brother, Harrison Mwanga. He thought he had eliminated her. But she wasn't dead. Marcus had killed Harrison with his own hands, eliminating the one man who could have exposed him. Harrison was once the head of a massive empire, respected, loved, and feared. When Harrison died, the world mourned him. But Marcus only smirked from the shadows, assuming control of all he could reach, all except one stubborn thorn: his daughter.
Morning light streamed into Marcus's luxury estate, reflecting off polished glass and chrome. The smell of grilled fish and warm rice hung in the air. Rachel—Harrison's widow and now Marcus's captive housekeeper—had already prepared his breakfast. Her eyes were blank, but her hands moved with a practiced precision. The woman had learned to survive in silence.
Marcus, seated at the dining table in a silk robe, took a sip of his bitter black coffee. His phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID. It was him—his kingpin friend, the same one he'd ordered to plant a secret agent near Linda.
"Yes?" His voice was curt.
"Morning," the voice on the other end said. It was smooth, but with a dangerous undertone.
"We've been observing her as instructed," Philip said. "Your 'niece' is smart, confident. Nothing out of the ordinary. She's just a regular student… though sharp."
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
"Anything else?"
"Well…" Philip hesitated briefly, his voice tightening, "The agent I sent is doing well. He's gaining her trust and getting closer to her friends. No red flags yet."
He conveniently left out the fact that his best agent—code-named " Xin Ling"—was actually a girl in disguise as a boy, currently posing as the high schooler named Jae Min. A girl trained in espionage, manipulation, and infiltration. And surprisingly, she had grown a little… attached to her target.
"Good," Marcus muttered.
He ended the call and set the phone down slowly. A small smirk crept onto his face.
"You're more fortunate than I thought, you sly little bitch," he whispered under his breath, staring at the glistening yolk of his egg. "But not for long. You'll be dead soon… and the entire Harrison empire will finally be mine."
Just then, Rachel stepped into the dining room quietly, her head slightly lowered, but her hands gripping the cleaning tool tightly.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked softly, her voice almost a whisper.
Marcus didn't look at her for a moment, then glanced her way, his face hard with disdain.
"Speak."
"It's about Linda…" she said. "I mean… if you want her dead, that's… that's a big— I don't know. But she's too young to threaten you. She's just a girl. Please…"
Marcus dropped his cutlery and leaned back, chuckling in that low, dangerous tone she had grown to fear.
"Too young?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A few taps later, he turned the screen toward her. A video played—grainy surveillance footage of Linda fighting off a group of grown men . Her movements were sharp, practiced, brutal.
"This is your 'too young,' Rachel."
Rachel's breath caught in her throat. Pride swelled in her heart seeing her daughter fight like a warrior—but it was instantly crushed by fear and despair. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she turned her face away. Linda has grown so big and beautiful.
"She's strong. But she's still your brother's daughter. You trying to kill her is a double sin. You killed her father and—"
SLAP!
A sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room. Rachel was knocked to the floor, a streak of blood forming at the corner of her lip. Marcus stood over her, his face twisted in rage.
"You stupid woman. You dare speak to me like that again?! If a single word leaves your mouth about this… I will not only kill Linda—I will destroy her, ruin her, make her suffer before I slit her throat. And then I'll come for you."
Rachel sobbed softly, wiping her lip, but her eyes suddenly burned with rage.
"You're a monster, Marcus. An ungrateful, foolish monster. If you think you can kill Linda, then keep dreaming."
For the first time in years, she dared raise her voice at him.
Marcus stood stunned for a moment—then laughed.
"It took you long enough to grow a spine," he hissed. "Let's break it, shall we?"
With a violent growl, he grabbed her by the hair and began punching her stomach mercilessly. Rachel screamed in pain, her body crumpling like paper under his blows.
He dragged her by the arm, pulled her toward the guest wing, and shoved her into a spare bedroom. With a twist of the key, he locked the door.
His chest heaved as he wiped the sweat off his brow. Too angry to sit still, Marcus snatched up his car keys and stormed out of the mansion.
He didn't know where he was going until he stopped. It was outside a school. He had spotted them—two familiar figures playing near the front gate. The twins. Tony's children.
They were about 14 now, but they had the unmistakable tony look. Their skin, their smiles, their aura—it was Tony's. No DNA test needed. It was right there. But how?. Where did he go wrong?.
Marcus gripped the steering wheel, rage building in his chest. Just as he was about to step out of the car, a sleek silver vehicle pulled up.
Tony stepped out, dashing and confident. Selina followed, radiant in her tailored dress. The twins ran to them, laughing.
"Dad! Mum!"
They hugged each other tightly.
Marcus's jaw tightened. He sat still, watching as the perfect picture of a happy family played before his eyes. It was mockery. It was insult.
Tony and Selina got into their car with the twins and drove off.
Marcus remained in his vehicle, fists clenched.
He had taken Harrison's life, destroyed Linda's world, but Tony... Tony had slipped through his fingers. And that wound would never heal.
Not until he took everything back.
Not until they all paid.