Chapter 23
Eboni Keep in Nzuri Hall
“Yes, let her in,” I told the guard through the intercom.
When the gates opened, I stepped out onto the front steps myself, letting the warm air touch my face. The sky above was beginning to dim, and the lights along the driveway gave off a soft gold glow as the black car approached.
When it stopped, I stood still with my hands clasped in front of me. Silky climbed out of the driver’s seat slowly, her eyes darting from the fountain to the columns, then finally to me. I greeted her with a polite smile.
“Mrs. Charm,” I said, inclining my head slightly. “Welcome to my home.”
Her shoulders lifted as she gave a nervous laugh. “I have to say, your estate is very beautiful.
“Thank you,” I said, turning toward the door. “Come in.”
I held the door open for her myself, and watched her enter.
Silky stepped inside, her face painted with a smile that looked more nervous than genuine.
Her eyes darted around as if she was trying to take in everything at once—the tall ceilings, the chandeliers, the air that smelled faintly of white gardenia.
She looked impressed, but she was also uncomfortable. That amused me.
“Mrs. Charm,” I said, offering a polite nod. “Welcome.”
“Thank you for having me,” she replied, her tone soft, but her voice quivered slightly.
“Would you like tea or wine?” I asked as I gestured toward the sitting area. My voice was light, almost sweet in a way one might speak to an old acquaintance.
She hesitated, glancing around before answering. “Wine, please.”
“Of course.”
One of my staff disappeared through the side door, and I walked ahead, leading her toward the main living room. I could feel her gaze on me as I walked, studying me in that cautious way people do when they can’t quite figure out who they’re dealing with.
When we reached the sofa, I took my seat across from her, crossing one leg over the other and resting my hands gently in my lap. She sat down slowly, still glancing around, still looking impressed.
“This is a beautiful home,” she said. “Absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a faint smile. “It’s peaceful here. I imagine peace is something you value as well.”
Her eyes flickered. “Yes… I do.”
The maid returned with a tray, setting down a glass of wine in front of her and a cup of tea for me. I didn’t drink yet. I waited. I watched her take a sip first.
For a while, the conversation remained polite with empty words about art, travel, and the weather. It was almost easy to forget why she was here, but I hadn’t invited her for small talk. When the silence stretched long enough, I finally spoke again.
“I believe you have something for me,” I said, giving her a warm smile.
She blinked, pretending not to understand, then quickly pulled her phone from her purse. “Yes, yes, I do.”
Silky and I had been speaking for a week.
When I showed up at her home, she was very surprised to know who I was.
I told her I was looking for her daughter, and it wasn’t up for debate.
I didn’t raise my voice or waste words. I simply told her what I needed from her—When Kashmere called, I wanted to know.
To make it easier, I offered her a million dollars. I didn’t offer it out of generosity but because I knew money would make her move faster. She agreed without hesitation.
A week later, she was sitting in my home, pretending she hadn’t just sold her own child. The recording was on her phone, and I could already tell by the look on her face that she’d been listening to it over and over. She was proud of what she’d done, but fear lingered underneath.
Finally, she opened her phone. The moment she pressed play, Kashmere’s voice filled the room. She sounded young and soft, almost fragile. She talked about her pregnancy, about her new home in Halo Key, and about wanting her mother to visit.
I sat quietly and listened until the recording ended.
“She trusts you very much,” I said.
Silky looked uncomfortable. “She’s my daughter.”
Her voice trembled slightly. “For a moment, I didn’t think she’d ever call.”
“Yes,” I said, “and yet you gave her away.”
Her eyes shifted. “You said you’d pay me a million dollars. I did what you asked.”
I nodded once. “I did say that.”
She exhaled in relief, like it was over.
“But I’ve decided not to,” I said simply.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You sold your daughter,” I said. “You turned on your own blood for a price, and now you know what it feels like to be lied to.”
What struck me most wasn’t what she did, but how easily she did it.
To sell your own child for a moment of comfort, and for money that will burn through your fingers before the guilt ever fades, that kind of weakness disgusted me.
I thought about my son and my grandson, about the times I’d looked at Pressure and known that I would die before I ever let harm touch him.
I’ve built empires, destroyed reputations, and silenced nations in his name.
I would burn the world to ash if it meant keeping him safe.
And then there was Silky, sitting in front of me, smiling as she handed over her only daughter’s future.
A pregnant daughter at that. A mother should feel something when her child calls her with hope in her voice, and when she says she’s carrying life inside her.
A mother should feel warmth. Silky felt opportunity.
I looked at her and felt nothing but disgust. For all her talk of struggle and survival, she’d proven herself hollow. I could never understand that kind of emptiness.
“My son was shot,” I said calmly. “He almost died. I sat beside him in that hospital room watching the machines breathe for him, and all I could think about was how I wanted to trade places with him. I would’ve taken every bullet, every ounce of pain, if it meant he could open his eyes again.
” I looked at Silky, my voice calm but sharp enough to slice through the air.
“That’s what a mother does. She bleeds before her child does.
She dies before she lets her child fall. ”
She wouldn’t look at me. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, her breathing shallow and shaky.
“You disgust me, Mrs. Charm,” I said softly. “You brought a child into this world, and instead of protecting her, you’re handing her over to be hunted.”
She stood up quickly. “I think I should go.”
I smiled politely. “That won’t be necessary.”
Before she could take another step, two of my men entered the room. They didn’t speak, and neither did I.
“Be gentle with Mrs. Charm,” I said.
Silky’s voice cracked. “Please, Abeni—”
I stood, smoothing my skirt. “You wanted money. Now you’ll learn what it costs.”
They guided her toward the door as she begged to leave. Outside, the black suburban was already waiting. She was placed inside carefully, still trembling.
I took the passenger seat, calm and composed as always. Silky looked at me, her voice barely a whisper. “Where are you taking me?”
I looked at her with a faint smile. “To see your husband.”
During the drive, I watched the city disappear behind me, the lights growing smaller until the world was quiet again. My focus was not on where I was going, but on what was about to be done.
The building was an abandoned art conservatory on the outskirts of town, purchased under a shell company years ago and converted into one of my private facilities.
The structure was old but beautiful, with high glass windows that caught the light even in darkness, marble floors, and gold-trimmed columns that shined faintly in the moonlight.
It was poetic, really. Once a place for art was now a place for closure.
When we pulled into the long courtyard, the sound of the tires against the pavement broke the stillness.
My driver came around to open my door, and I stepped out gracefully, my heels clicking against the stone.
The air was cool, and I could hear the soft rustle of leaves somewhere nearby.
One of the guards opened the back door, and Silky was forced out.
Their hand stayed on her arm, guiding her toward the entrance.
Inside, the room was quiet, illuminated by the faint golden light of chandeliers that hung high above.
Kojo was already there, standing near the center of the room.
His tall, composed frame commanded presence without needing to speak.
When I entered, he looked toward me and extended his hand.
I walked to him, taking it without hesitation, and he leaned in to kiss my cheek before brushing his lips against mine. There was comfort in his touch.
Silky was brought forward, trembling, her eyes darting around the space as if searching for mercy in marble.
Moments later, Sterling was led out from one of the adjoining rooms. He looked worse than the last time I’d seen him.
The days of confinement had worn him thin.
His eyes were hollow, and his skin had taken on a pale, washed-out hue.
When he saw Silky, he stumbled forward, his voice cracking as he called her name.
“Silky… oh, God.”
Her knees nearly gave out at the sound of his voice. The guards let her move closer until they were side by side, both shaking, and broken. It would have been touching if it weren’t so pathetic.
Kojo’s arm brushed against mine, and I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable, calm yet sharp. He was here for me as much as for our son, and that alone gave me a sense of peace.
Sterling turned toward me with a bitterness in his voice that didn’t match the fear in his eyes. “You’re really doing all this for your son? He didn’t even die.”
I stepped forward, the sound of my heels echoing faintly against the floor. “Yes,” I said simply. “I am.”
He laughed weakly, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”
I tilted my head slightly, watching him.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But you see, I’m not just doing this for him.
I’m doing this because people like you and your wife destroy everything you touch.
You take advantage of love, loyalty, and innocence, and then you pretend it’s the world’s fault when it all collapses. ”
Silky’s voice trembled. “We didn’t do anything to you.”
“You raised the woman who shot my son and left him bleeding in the street,” I said softly. “You’re the mother who turned on your own child for money. You both deserve what’s coming.”
She started to cry, her body shaking harder as the guards kept her still.
Silky’s eyes filled with terror. “Please, I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just—”
“Don’t insult me with your excuses,” I interrupted. “I’ve heard enough lies from you and your husband to last a lifetime. You made your choices, and now you’ll live with them.
I turned to Kojo. He reached for my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it tenderly.
That simple touch sent a rush through me.
Not only was it a feeling of lust but of power, and unity.
We had built an empire together, and now we were purging it of corruption.
Watching him beside me in this moment reminded me that we were still one force, and one heartbeat moving through all of this with purpose.
I looked back at Sterling and Silky. “Before this ends, I want to ask something of you,” I said. “Would you like to be buried together? I can honor that wish if you have a place in mind. Some people like to prepare for eternity while they still have breath.”
They stared at me, speechless.
“I’m being sincere,” I continued. “Where would you prefer to rest? A cemetery near your old home? Somewhere peaceful?”
Neither spoke. The silence went on until it felt suffocating.
“I’ll take that as indifference,” I said. “In that case, I’ll decide for you.”
Kojo gave a small nod to the guards, and they raised their guns. The moment felt suspended in time. Silky started to cry harder, mumbling something that sounded like a prayer. Sterling’s body shook as he tried to speak, but no words came out.
I looked at them both one last time. “I wish you well on your new journey,” I said. “Wherever it may lead.”
Kojo squeezed my hand again. There was something deeply intimate in that gesture, a shared satisfaction that words couldn’t touch. Together, we watched as the shots rang out, sharp and final. The sound echoed through the room and then faded.
I felt no remorse... only completion.
Kojo turned to me, brushed a strand of hair from my face, and whispered something low that only I could hear. I smiled, resting my hand on his chest before we walked out together, leaving the mess behind.
Outside, the night felt calm again. The stars were out, and shining down. Sterling and Silky had raised the woman who tried to destroy my family, and now that debt had been paid in full.
As my husband opened the door for me, I looked up at him and said softly, “The world will sleep peacefully now.”
He nodded once. “So will you.”