A Crossfire of Hearts - First 3 Chapters
TW: Violence, gore, language, and explicit sexual content.
Chapter One
The Disgraced Prince
The hallway was dark, cold, and smelt of blood.
Hamza couldn’t tell which he hated more – the dank cells that outlined the hallway or the acrid odour that tingled his nostrils. The metallic tang reminded him of the river of blood that had swept him onto the path that he now travelled. The screams of the latest occupant of one of the cells assaulted his ears as he drew nearer.
Lateef.
The bastard had thought it was wise to manipulate Hamza’s accounts and steal from him. The money the man had taken wasn’t the problem, so much as the betrayal. It hit too close to home and made Hamza wonder what it was about him that made it easy for him to be betrayed. Maybe Lateef would finally answer that question.
Maybe then, he would understand why his brothers had broken the seal of trust they had sworn, that the competition between them would remain fair until the end. And they had broken it in such a brutal manner that he couldn’t help but wonder maybe he had truly deserved it.
In the dimly lit cell, Lateef was seated on the floor, stripped down to his underwear, his body glistening with sweat and blood. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there was an open gash on his forehead.
For a former soldier and a man in his line of work, one would think Hamza would be used to such ghastly sights by now. Yes, he was, but being used to them didn’t mean he loved seeing them. What would his wife, Mainna, who was as soft as the insides of a ripened soursop and his doe-eyed daughter, Aliyah, think of him if they saw him now?
On either side of Lateef stood two of his men, Tijani and Alex, dressed identically in black T-shirts tucked into black jeans trousers. Tijani had a gold chain around his neck and heavy gold rings on all his fingers. The shine of the rings was dulled with blood. He held an arm length rebar curved at the top.
Unlike Tijani, Alex had no flashy jewellery on. He was simple in his black clothes, which was how Hamza preferred his men to look. But he mostly kept his reservations to himself because getting good men in a foreign kingdom was hard. Alex and Tijani were two of the few good ones, so as long as they did their jobs right, he hardly complained about how they dressed or what they did during their spare time.
Both of them paused what they were doing and stood up straighter as he entered. By the looks of Lateef who was breathing hard on the concrete floor, it seemed they had been having quite the fun.
“Messy,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he stared down at Lateef. He was so disgusted that he had to swallow hard to keep down the vomit that was rising to his throat.
“Where did you say he was found again?” he asked Kai, his trusted right hand who had followed him into the cell. Kai had earned the nickname, “The General,” from the other men in the crew, not just because of his closeness to Hamza, but for his brutality that was second to none. In Hamza’s absence, Kai’s word was law.
“Morocco,” Kai answered. His voice was as stiff as his shoulders.
“How insulting,” Hamza said. His distaste sat heavy and bitter on his tongue. “Was that how far you could run?” he asked, crouching in front of Lateef, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. Despite his revulsion, Hamza gently patted Lateef’s face like he would a dear brother or friend.
“There is only one place in the world that you could run to and I wouldn’t be able to get you. At least, not personally anyway. I mean, you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever and you blew it.” He laughed at his own joke. Everyone in the room knew he was talking about his home kingdom, from where he had been banished.
“Hamza—” Lateef began, finally working up the courage to look at him. He swallowed; his throat seemed parched. Hamza held out a finger to shush him.
“Give the man some water,” he ordered.
“Hamzaaa…,” Kai groaned, stressing the last syllable of his name.
“Oh, come on, now. We aren’t animals. He’s obviously thirsty.” Hamza’s voice was so gentle and soothing that Lateef’s shoulders relaxed, almost as if he was hopeful that his ordeal would soon come to an end. Of course, the end was near.
Kai gave a stern nod to Alex, who went out and came back a few moments later with a cup of cold water. Hamza took the cup from him and gently held it to Lateef’s lips, who lapped it up like a thirsty street dog, spilling water all over his bare chest.
Hamza watched with a wicked grin as Lateef sloppily drank his fill. When he was done, Hamza took the cup from him and handed it to Kai, who placed it on the only furniture in the cell, a rickety interrogation table that no one used.
“So, you were saying?” he asked, looking into Lateef’s good eye, his voice soft as if he were speaking to a lover.
“Hamza, I can explain, I can… it—”
“Relax, relax. I’m sure you must have some excuse. Go ahead, let’s hear it. We are all brothers here.”
Lateef fell quiet and went back to staring at the floor. The only sounds in the cell were his heavy breathing and the distant dripping of water from somewhere within the rows of cells. Hamza made a mental note to ask his boys to check it out.
“Oh, come on now,” Hamza drawled as he carefully lifted Lateef’s chin. Even then, Lateef still would not meet his eyes. The behaviour of a guilty man caught red-handed.
Red-handed. How he hated that word. He had been condemned with it.
“He literally has blood on his hands. Is there a better definition of red-handed?” The voice that spat those spiteful words at him all those years ago was still as clear in his mind, as if it had spoken to him just a few minutes ago.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment to erase the intrusive thoughts of the past.
“We do things for a reason,” Hamza said when he opened his eyes. The deceptive softness of his voice remained intact. “Maybe I have been unfair in my payments and judgements, or you have a sick mother or sister or child who needs surgery, you know—”
“It was the devil,” Lateef blurted. “I didn’t mean to steal from you. It was Satan’s doing, I swear it.” As Lateef pleaded frantically, Hamza could not take his eyes off the man’s teeth, now dyed crimson with blood. He wondered how many teeth Lateef had lost from the torture he had received.
“The devil? Shaytan?” The slight rise in his tone indicated Hamza’s disappointment. He had wanted a grand explanation. He would have even appreciated a well-thought out lie. Hell, he would have taken a poorly thought-out one, something that painted him as the bad guy, unjust, wicked. Something that justified the betrayal. Something that would have finally answered the question. It grated on his nerves that Lateef had followed the basic blueprint of every liar and criminal.
He studied Lateef quietly for a second. “The devil, Lateef?” he repeated before bursting into a maniacal laughter.
“Boss, I…” Lateef tried again. Fear glistened in his good eye as he realised he had given the wrong answer.
“I gave you options, but you chose the devil. Ya Allah, of all things, you chose the devil.” Hamza shook his head. The laughter had disappeared from his voice and eyes.
“You didn’t just steal from me, Lateef. You betrayed me. And it is that betrayal that I don’t understand, and I can’t forgive.” The sharpness of his cold words sliced through the tensioned atmosphere. Despite his chill tone, he ensured that his expression remained unreadable. It was an art that he had mastered as a child. Growing up as the third of seven sons in the Bachaman palace didn’t leave room for vulnerability or weakness. Not when they all fought for the attention of their father, King Alade Hassan Bachama, who didn’t tolerate even the minutest signs of weakness from his sons, but treated his four daughters and three wives like delicate mirrors.
“Well,” Hamza said, getting to his feet and wiping his blood-stained hands on his clothes. “Every day, I seek refuge in Allah from the accursed Satan and his madness. So, you see why I cannot have you around.”
He turned to Kai. “How much did he steal from me?”
“A hundred thousand Idim,” Kai answered.
“Break his bones into a hundred thousand pieces,” Hamza commanded, his tone cold and piercing. “Then burn his body and keep his ashes by a hearth.”
“No!” Lateef screamed. “Death, I can accept. But at least, let me have an honourable burial.”
Hamza paused, as if he were considering Lateef’s request. Then he shuddered. “Thieves have no honour. And since you love the devil so much you make dealings with him, burning your body will hasten your pathway to hell, don’t you think?”
With a half-smile at Lateef’s stunned face, he walked out of the cell. Lateef must have recovered fast because his cries and desperate plea for mercy escorted Hamza out of the cell and followed him down the hallway.
“Mercy is for Allah,” he muttered to himself as he stepped into the cool evening breeze, a sharp contrast to the atmosphere in the underground cells. “And I’m not him.”
To any unsuspecting person, the door he had just exited was simply the entrance to a small outbuilding on the land, and not an entrance to an underground row of cells that ran deep underneath the main mansion in the compound itself. He hadn’t built the cells; in fact, when he had bought the property, he had been surprised to find that it had come with such facilities. He didn’t want to think about why the previous owners of the house had felt the need for a secret prison. He honestly didn’t care; the house, the land and everything on it were things that only served his temporal purpose on this foreign land.
Right now, what concerned him was the feeling of hives breaking out on his skin. He walked briskly towards the mansion in the large compound that served as his home and the base for his business. Though he only kept a handful of men in the compound, they were enough to spread rumours of their boss being a weakling if they saw him scratching his body like a mad man right after he had ordered the execution of a thief within their ranks. It was already bad enough that Lateef had betrayed him and gotten away with it for months, until Kai had tracked him down to Morocco and brought him back just the day before. Until his mission was complete and he let them loose like chickens without a home, he needed to keep a firm hand on his men. Asides from Kai and Azeeza who had followed him all the way from Bachama, he did not trust anyone else.
The minute he got into his room, the only place he could be alone, he stripped off his clothes with crazy haste, dashed into the shower and turned cold water over his head. He let the water cool his rising body temperature and settle the disturbance in his stomach that he had barely managed to keep from spilling out through his mouth.
As the water calmed his nerves, the memories of the day that changed his life forever played in his mind. He had held his daughter’s small body, limp and unmoving, in one hand, a horrifying slash across her throat. In his other hand was the knife that had inflicted the wound. Not too far from him lay the lifeless body of his wife, Mainna, in a pool of her own blood. But that was all he remembered.
They had been celebrating King Alade’s birthday, a huge festival where the king was hosting important dignitaries from all over the kingdom and beyond. One of the dignitaries was Leadonna Essien Adetola, the newly crowned heiress to the throne of Idia and the most spiteful witch he had ever known, if he had ever met any. It was during the festival that the king had unofficially declared that Hamza would be his heir, the one to take the throne after his demise. Though Hamza was the third son of his father and the first child of his mother, his father had chosen him to be the next king of Bachama.
His last memory before waking up to bloodstained hands and the bodies of his wife and child was getting up to use the bathroom at the feast. He didn’t even remember getting to the bathroom, just waking up in his rooms and everything going downhill from there.
According to Bachaman laws and most laws in the world, the punishment for murder was death. But Hamza had invoked the trust and faith his father had in him to have chosen him as the heir among his seven sons for a chance to prove his innocence. King Alade had conferred with his advisers and ministers for days, while Hamza was locked in prison until a decision was made. In that time, news had spread. The international community had gotten wind of it. Words like gender-based violence, abuse, and mental illness had all flown about. Various human rights organisations had demanded justice. And all eyes had been on Bachama, on what judgement would be passed on the king’s chosen son.
Finally, almost a month later, his father had come to see him in secret in prison. King Alade agreed that there was foul play, and some things did not add up. So, despite evidence pointing to his son as the murderer and alcohol, which was a taboo for all members of the Bachaman royal family, being found in his system, he would give him a chance to prove his innocence, but Hamza would have to do it outside Bachama.
The king’s words were, “Until you prove your innocence, the soil of Bachama has become forbidden to you, and to return is to risk death.”
That day, his father had set him free, and he had left Bachama with only the clothes on his back. He would have run around destitute had Kai and Azeeza not met up with him just as he was about to cross the land border into Idia. Kai and Azeeza were his buddies from the army. They had saved his life countless times, as he had saved theirs. And when he had been exiled, they had joined him, leaving their lives and families behind, swearing to follow him to the ends of the earth to prove his innocence.
With Kai and Azeeza had come his mother’s gold and diamond necklace, a wedding gift from his father to her, and a warning from her that he must return to the kingdom and give her a gift ten times the worth of the necklace. That necklace had paved the path to the wealth that he had now amassed. Staying in the shadows and away from the media, he sought information from his homeland as much as he could. It was the longer and harder route, investigating a murder far away from the crime scene. In all honesty, it was a near impossible task, and it had shown in the past five years because all he had ever come up with ended up in smoke. And it was beginning to look like his parents’ faith in him was a waste. Not to forget his immediate younger sister, Bashirah, who had been of tremendous help to him when he first settled in Idia. She had also been his most loyal eyes and ears in the Bachaman palace until he cut her off because he was putting her in so much danger by having her spy for him. It had now been three years since he had any contact with her. When all was made right, he would beg for her forgiveness. Until then, he had to make the last five years count.
It had been five years since he had secretly entered Idia, a kingdom that his father had coveted for a long time and the kingdom closest to Bachama. Five years since he had lived on enemy lands. Five years since he had become allergic to blood. Five years since, and his father still hadn’t named an heir.
His father was waiting for him, and so was his mother. Time was ticking and it wasn’t on his side.
Chapter Two
The Crown Princess
“More qualified males,” Leah muttered, irritated by the nonsense that she had just read.
Over the years, she had grown accustomed to it, but occasionally, she couldn’t help but be astonished by the sexist rubbish that The Idia Daily, a supposedly esteemed news platform, continued to publish. Would she be the first woman in the history of the world to rule a powerful kingdom? And she wasn’t even queen yet.
She really shouldn’t be reading nonsensical articles like this. But one thing she had learnt in all her years preparing to be the next ruler of Idia was that no information was useless. Her father always said, “Hear everything, read everything and pick what you will from all you have gathered.”
Putting her tablet screen to sleep, she set it down on the dining table and picked up her cup of tea. She noticed her paint-stained fingers again as she took a sip. She had started painting a new piece before going on her morning jog. Good thing her mother was not at breakfast, as she disliked seeing Leah’s paint-stained fingers.
“You are a woman taking over a kingdom that many covet. Don’t give them something to talk about,” her mother would say.
But Leah hated wearing gloves when she painted. She didn’t feel as connected to the art when she did. Besides, her mother of all people ought to know how impossible it was to prevent people from talking, because she was also on the receiving end of the misogyny that ran rampant in the Idian media. She was, after all, a queen-consort who sat on the royal council and was an active participant in the decision-making process of the Idian government. And then, there were those two years when Leah was a child and the king, her father, had fallen terribly ill. Her mother had acted as regent until he fully recovered.
“She’s bored of being a queen-consort and wants to become a real queen. She should instead count her blessings and look after her children like a real mother would and leave politics for the men.”
Many things had been said and written about her mother. But this one had stuck the most in Leah’s memory. She had felt the hate radiating off the page of the newspaper. She couldn’t fathom why her mother was so loathed when, even as a child, she saw how hard her mother had been working to fill her father’s shoes, even though it was temporal.
“Why do they hate you so much?” she had asked her mother once.
“It’s not me they hate,” her mother had answered, gently lifting her small chin. “It’s what I have, what we have, that they want. But they are people who would not know how to handle the burden of the responsibility that we carry.”
Back then, she had understood only on the surface what her mother had meant. She recalled how difficult it had been for her to make friends because many children didn’t like her. As an adult, she understood that they had only been spewing the venom that their parents had poured in them.
Five years had passed since she had assumed the role of Crown Princess to the Kingdom of Idia, causing her step-uncles to feel bitter. As her youngest brother, Kehinde Zakhariyah, was still a child, they couldn’t help but feel hopeful that their own sons would be chosen, especially with Ademola now High Chief of Kezran and Iseul in Korea. The fact that they were girls led her uncles to never consider her, the first child of King Essien, or Taiwo Aliyah, the second half of the mischievous royal twins.
But she had always known. Her family members had always known because ever since she was a child, her father had drilled it into her that she was going to take his place. It was one of the reasons he had made her mother regent: if he died, she was the only one he trusted not only to be a good leader but also to hand the throne to his daughter. Thankfully, after series of medical interventions both traditional and modern, which included multiple surgeries, he had recovered. That had been a period of great insecurity for her, but she had relied on her mother’s strength and powered through.
Her father, before and after his illness, had barely given her any breathing space. Her every action and behaviour were closely monitored. She had always been on a tight schedule. It wasn’t enough that as a child, she attended the Idian Royal Academy, a prestigious school that served royalty and those with privilege; she also had private tutors. She learned multiple languages and had also been trained early in diplomatic affairs, history, culture, religion, etiquette and protocol. She also had military training. Granted, all these subjects were compulsory for all children of the royal family, but for her, trainings were ten times what was required of others. Even her friends were closely scrutinised by her father. Her closest friends, Ife and Fali, whom she had met at the academy would not have been her friends if they weren’t children of important figures in the kingdom. Ife had now taken her father’s place as the commander of the king’s guard and Fali had taken her mother’s place as the most powerful witch in the kingdom, a religious figure whose powers can only be known to the royal family. They turned out to be the coolest people with whom she’d had her rebellious phase, and they had become more that just friends.
They had become family. Literally.
The thought caused a smile to spread across her lips and helped her put aside the ugliness of the article she had just read. Ife was currently on her honeymoon, after marrying Leah’s cousin, Iseul. And Fali—Leah chuckled—this business with Fali and her brother, Ademola, was the most surprising of all. She had always noted something odd about how indifferent they acted around each other.
“A smile always suits you, Your Highness.” Aje, her personal secretary interrupted her thoughts. Aje had always been light-footed, so she hadn’t heard him walk into the dining room where she was having her lone breakfast. She mostly preferred to eat before the whole family gathered because chaos was certain to ensue when they ate together. The Twins were having a field day with the Ademola and Fali news; her mother was happy that he was finally with someone he loved and who could protect the kingdom, which was the condition Leah had given. But her father, happy as he was that they had been able to figure out Tiv’s ruse, wasn’t quite elated that a member of the coven might be joining the royal family. The Tivi Queen, under the guise of her daughter’s betrothal to Ademola, had connived with a member of the coven to steal the jewel of midnight. The jewel was an ancient relic forged from the blood of a high witch and a royal to protect the kingdom of Idia from ever being invaded. His reservations were due to the blood oath that made it a taboo for a member of the coven and a royal to be romantically involved, even though the coven had confirmed that all was well, and Ademola and Fali could be together without any repercussions.
“And you have a nasty habit of creeping up on people, Aje,” she scolded. The smile on her face faded and she was back to her signature relaxed and disinterested expression.
“I definitely wasn’t creeping, you just weren’t paying attention,” Aje said with a smirk.
Leah raised one perfectly carved eyebrow at him. He was dressed in a sharp, fitted suit that emphasised his muscles and buff physique. She shook her head and picked up her tab again. Aje was one of three people who could speak to her that way and get away with it, the first two being Ife and Fali. Aje was also a friend she had met at the Royal Academy. However, unlike many other students whose parents could afford the school, Aje had been an orphan who had gotten a special scholarship available to a few less privileged children.
Aje had been severely bullied because of it. He had become an unofficial fourth member of their girl group, when Leah, Ife and Fali had walked in on him being bullied in the school’s courtyard. Ife had beaten the bullies senseless. Of course, there had been consequences for their actions, as beating up the children of dignitaries wasn’t exactly what her father had in mind when he told her she had a responsibility to protect the weak. But she had gained another friend that day because Aje, the wimpy boy in the same year as her, had followed her around the school like a puppy. He was still following her around as her personal secretary and sometimes bodyguard, but was now far from wimpy.
“Your itinerary for the day has been sent to you,” Aje said.
Leah nodded as she opened the email and began to browse through the various activities scheduled for the day. Then she paused, remembering something.
“We still don’t have evidence that The Idia Daily might have something to do with the so-called pro-democracy rebels?” she asked, turning to look at Aje’s smooth-as-butter face without betraying her eagerness for some positive news.
“You have seen this morning’s article, I take it,” Aje said with an exasperated sigh. “You really shouldn’t let these meaningless articles bother you. We know the director of The Idia Daily is affiliated with Chief Lama Adetola, your step uncle who believes that the throne of Idia should come to his family. Their malicious articles shouldn’t…”
“I only asked you a simple question which you have failed to answer. This is why you shouldn’t employ your friends.” Leah sighed and went back to browsing her tasks for the day. One of the tasks was a charity fundraising event by one of her step cousins, Timilehin, who was raising awareness for glaucoma and helping people who couldn’t afford it get the treatment they need before it becomes irreversible. She sighed again. This was another one of those events she had to attend to keep up the façade that the royal family was one big, united family, when it was an open secret that her step uncles and their families coveted the throne.
“You know, underneath, people are always pursuing their own personal gains. Who do you think would benefit the most if the ‘pro-democracy’ rebels succeed in getting what they want? Who do you think would be the first to run for the so-called democratically elected offices?”
“One of your step-uncles, or their sons,” Aje answered with a tight expression, though he didn’t need to because the answer was obvious.
“Or their sons-in-law, and the director of The Idia Daily happens to be one of them,” Leah said to further buttress her point. Under their leadership, whether democratically elected or not, Idia would be a disaster. Those people were so openly greedy and entitled.
“I’ll look deeply into their connection with the rebels,” Aje said with a brief nod.
“That’s better. Now, please clear my schedule in the capital for the next three days.”
Aje tilted his head to the side as his brow furrowed slightly in confusion.
“I am visiting my brother in the Kezran Mountains,” she explained.
“And I take it that you will not be flying,” Aje said with a long-suffering sigh. “You know you could put more effort into making my job easier.”
“It’s not my fault that I can’t stand flights and I will not take them unless absolutely necessary.” She could feel Aje resisting the urge to roll his eyes even without looking up at him. Sometimes, she wanted to smack the back of his shiny bald head, but her mother would say it was not befitting of her. He knew why she hated flying, but still silently judged her for not doing so. Sure, it had been decades since her first flight experience. She had been five or six years old when the royal jet taking her to visit her maternal grandparents in Kezran had almost crashed and had to make an emergency landing. The engineers in charge had been fired for their negligence but the memory had stayed with her. Now, unless she had to leave the kingdom, she did not take flights.
“Very well. I’ll inform the royal guards, so they can prepare your escorts,” Aje said and turned to leave.
“That would not be necessary, Aje. Two cars are enough. It will just be you and me. And two other people from my security detail.”
Aje looked at her as if horns were sprouting from her forehead. “Are you crazy?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, let me rephrase that,” he said. “Your Highness, are you crazy and do you have a death wish?”
“Aje…”
“It’s already bad enough that you want to travel to an area infested with rebels by road, but you want to do so without escorts.”
“That’s because I don’t intend to announce my movements to anyone. It’s better we move discreetly. Travelling with escorts will attract too much attention. Now, please stop bothering me. I have used more words than I care to this morning.” She dismissed him with a slight wave of her hand. Otherwise, Aje would go on and on about how unsafe it was. But really, not only was it counter-productive to let the whole world know where she was going with a large number of royal escorts, it was also a waste of resources.
“And don’t you dare tell the king or queen about this,” she added quickly because she knew Aje, failing to convince her himself, would try to do so through her parents. And she didn’t have the strength to deal with either of them.
“You are unbelievable, you know that,” Aje said with a huff and turned on his heel. Leah stifled a smile as she watched him leave.
Her trip to the Kezran Mountains was more than just a courtesy visit. An important member of the royal council had committed treason by aiding the princess of Tiv, who, until recently, had been Ademola’s betrothed. The official report and what was told to the public was that the royal council member, Francis, had stolen an artefact and national heirloom to sell to Tiv. Tiv had always coveted it, and their act of attempting to buy the stolen national heirloom was a breach of trust. Therefore, diplomatic connections with Tiv had been severed. The Queen of Tiv had publicly disowned her daughter, announcing that she had no part in what her daughter had done. This was, of course, damage control. The deed had already been done.
While most of this was true, the Jewel of Midnight was more than just a national treasure. Its real power had been sealed with a blood covenant between the coven and the royal family centuries ago. As long as the Jewel of Midnight glowed and remained in Kezran, the Kingdom of Idia could never fall to outside power.
To the citizens of Idia, the coven was a myth, stories told to scare children. But the inner caucus of the royal family knew the truth of their existence. A representative of the coven sat on the royal council and was actively involved in running the kingdom. But Francis’ betrayal and the motive for his actions signified that the coven was no longer happy with living in the shadows or getting a council seat without being properly acknowledged for the powers they held.
This was why Leah was visiting Kezran. Given her romance with Ademola, it didn’t seem like Fali would be returning to the capital anytime soon, and this wasn’t a discussion that could be had on the phone. Fali had avoided coven business for as long as she could, but the powers she was born with had put on her a huge responsibility. She would take Francis’s place on the royal council, and they had to find a way to make up for the discontentment in the coven. Because Leah honestly didn’t think she had the strength to fight both spiritual and physical battles. The royal family already had enough on their hands with rebels who may or may not have support of some people in the royal family and/or one of the neighbouring kingdoms.
She was also visiting to have fun at her brother’s expense. Ife and her husband were also cutting their honeymoon short to visit Kezran. In a way, this would be a much-needed reunion.
Chapter Three
Collision
As Aje switched lanes on the connecting expressway from the capital to Kezran, Leah snapped the cover of her tablet shut before placing it on her lap. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around Fali and Ademola becoming a couple. Of course, there were stranger things in life than one of her best friends and her immediate younger brother getting involved in a romance, but still…. If Ifedayo hadn’t called her screaming with excitement and fury, she would have thought that Ife had known about the whole thing, given how Ife and Fali were practically sisters.
Fali, that one that acted as if butter couldn’t melt in her mouth, had been doing things with her brother. It was ridiculous, it was weird, but it was also kind of sweet, she had to at least admit that.
It also reminded her of how profoundly lonely she was. Of course, she’d had more than a few suitors, but they had wanted political connections and alliances, not her. Which was why it had been easy to turn them down. Aloof as she seemed to the world, family ties were important to her and a woman in her position couldn’t let just any kind of man into her life. So, she had told her father categorically that she had no interest in marriage. He could use the rest of his children to make connections and alliances, but he was to leave her out of it. She had already given her life to the kingdom and that was all the sacrifice that she could make. He hadn’t been happy about it, but if there was one thing she had gotten from her father, it was his stubbornness. He knew it too and did not push the matter.
But despite her reservations about men, there had been one that she had been unable to stop herself from falling for. One that she had no right to fall for. Thinking about him brought a pain to her heart, a pain that she was undeserving to have. Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she forced her mind back to the matters at hand.
“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” Aje asked.
Leah’s brows creased into a small frown. “And why would you ask me that?” she asked with genuine curiosity, but her tone must have come out as stern and offended because Aje immediately apologised.
“One minute you were smiling broadly and now you look like you’ve just been told that your husband died,” Aje answered.
“What?” Leah had no idea that her thoughts had been reflecting on her face.
“How’s Tina? The baby is due when?” she asked.
She saw from the look Aje threw her in the rearview mirror that she wasn’t fooling him by changing the topic. He, however, didn’t comment on that, but answered her question with a wide grin.
“In two months. It’s all thanks to you, allowing us access to the royal gynaecologist, giving us access to the best fertility clinic in the whole of Idia and for…”
“Please stop, Aje. One might think that I am a nice person if you keep thanking me like that.”
Aje and Tina had been married for three years and had had issues conceiving. Aje’s biggest dream was becoming a father. He wanted to give his child all the love his parents hadn’t been able to give him since they died shortly after his birth.
“Oh, please,” Aje laughed. “People need to see the nicer side of you more. Stop acting so cold when you are the warmest person on earth.”
“Only you, Aje, only you have the audacity to call me warm,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice, only fondness.
They were quiet for a while, and Leah got occupied with some economic stats on her tab before Aje spoke again.
“I don’t like this, you know?”
“What don’t you like, Aje?” Leah asked without looking up. It was funny how when she was younger, she couldn’t read in a moving vehicle because of motion sickness. But years of having to consume so much information while on the go had shaken that off her a little. She still had to pop chewy mint candy into her mouth at intervals to ease the nausea that threatened to overcome her.
“This,” Aje said.
“Ajeeee…” She dragged the last vowel of his name, a warning that she wasn’t in the business of deciphering thoughts that were not openly expressed.
Aje heaved a long-suffering sigh and tightening his lower arms around the steering. “I don’t like that not only did you insist on travelling by road during this period, but we also have only one other car following us.”
“Hmm,” Leah said distractedly.
“Your Highness, you heard what I said?”
“I did. I’m just wondering why we are back to this topic when I already explained why. Besides, you are exaggerating a bit; I have you and I have the other guys in the car behind us. We’ll be fine. And like I said before, it’s safer travelling covertly like this than announcing to the whole world with a fleet of cars and security detail.”
“It’s reckless and dangerous, is all I’m saying. If the king finds out that…”
“It would be of no consequence if he finds out because I’ll be safe within the Kezran Manor by then.”
“And the commander?”
“Now, Ife is the problem.” Leah mused for a second. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Aje rolled his eyes. Even a new-born baby knew that no one could handle Commander Ifedayo. Leah silently dared him to point that out, which to his credit, he didn’t.
“Now, please, I’d like to finish reading this report without being disturbed.”
No sooner had she said those words than they heard the unmistakeable sound of a car crashing into another.
Leah’s eyes widened. “What the hell was that?”
Aje tapped the button of his earpiece. “Speak to me.” He listened, then swore. “Shit!”
“What’s going on, Aje?” Leah’s voice shook.
“Your Highness,” Aje began. The obvious strain in his voice and the use of her title was all she needed to confirm that there was trouble. Big trouble.
“We are under attack,” Aje said.
Leah watched in horror through the rear windscreen as the security car behind them veered off the road and exploded into flames. Bombs!
“Oh God,” Leah muttered as she saw the black armoured vehicles with green and black flags. Rebel flags. She counted four before Aje yelled at her.
“Lower your head and brace yourself.” His commands were as useless as his foot on the accelerator. They couldn’t outrun a bomb.
“Requesting back up, Number Two is in danger…”
Aje’s words faded into the background of her mind. The road that connected the capital to the Kezran Mountains was one of the loneliest and longest in the whole of Idia. It was flanked on both sides by a thick forest. They wouldn’t encounter any cars for many miles. The deed would have been done before any backup from the palace got to them, even with helicopters.
Bloody rebels. How had they known she would be on the road at this time? Or was this just a random attack? Had they gotten so bold that they would attack the second most important person in the kingdom, and in broad daylight? The thought had not even formed fully in her mind when they were rammed into from behind. The impact knocked her forward. She hadn’t used her seatbelt because of her nausea, and now, she wished she had.
“Shit,” Aje swore as he struggled to regain control of the car. She didn’t think she had ever heard him swear consecutively in her whole life. He was the sweetest person she knew, with the easiest smile.
This mess was all her fault. She should not have adamantly refused the proper security detail. At least with that, they would still have stood a chance.
“Stop the car!” she commanded.
“What?” Aje spared a moment in the chaos to glance back at her.
“I said, park the car, get out and run.” Her voice was hoarse.
“Are you crazy?” Aje couldn’t be bothered with formalities at this point.
“Maybe we can get into the forest and hide or something! Because we can’t outrun them by car!”
He swerved sharply to avoid one of the armoured cars that had, at some point, caught up with them.
“We both know who they are after and we know we can’t escape them, so get out and run. You are faster than me, you can get away. You need to get away!”
“You are crazy,” Aje affirmed.
Shit! She had forgotten how stubborn sweet Aje could be. He would die first before he abandoned her.
“You stubborn goat! Think about Tina and your baby…” The words were left unfinished in her mouth as they were rammed again. It continued until their car toppled over.
And then it was quiet. Too quiet.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Aje asked, as he struggled with his seat belt in their upside-down state.
“I’m fine,” Leah grunted.
“I’ll get you out, I promise,” Aje said.
The sound of approaching footsteps silenced them. The boot-clad feet stopped just short of the driver’s seat. Aje stealthily tried to pull out his gun, an almost impossible feat giving his position. He managed to pull it half out of its holster before the rebel put a bullet in his temple.
Aje died instantly.
Leah screamed.
The rebel circled the car towards her, taking slow and calculated steps. The bastard was going to draw out her murder. She reached in between her thighs for the stiletto that she usually kept hidden there. She pulled it out of its sheath, ready to stab her assailant in the foot through the broken window. It was a pathetic effort but maybe it could buy her some time.
Some time to do what? Only God knew how many of them were out there.
But still, she had to try.
A series of gunshots sounded, and the man who had been creeping up to her dropped dead.
What was going on?
Had the rebels turned on each other?
Troops from the palace couldn’t have arrived that fast.
The sounds of gunfire continued for several minutes, and all the while, Leah held her breath. She couldn’t even look in the direction of Aje’s unmoving body.
Then it was deathly silent, save for the sound of footsteps on the asphalt approaching her.
She stilled her mind and prepared to attack with her knife, but the face of the man who crouched in front of her made her pause. It was one she had not seen in years and one she had hoped to never see again. He was dressed in all black with dark shades.
“Hamza?”
He removed his shades. “Hello, Leadonna.”
Leah struggled as Hamza pulled her out of the overturned car.
“What the hell?” Leah struggled to her feet while also pushing Hamza away from her. She felt lightheaded and the world around her seemed to be spinning but she managed to stand her ground. Her heels must have come off during the struggle to get out of the car. But her bare feet were the least of her problems now.
She turned the full force of her glare on the man before her. Mostly because she couldn’t bear to look towards Aje.
“Did you miss me, Your Highness?” The evil grin he flashed her made her skin crawl.
“So, it was you all along, doing all these?” Her voice was laden with spite.
Hamza simply shrugged in a nonchalant manner. The grin disappeared from his face as he said, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you are coming with me.”
“You bastard!” Leah screamed. “I am going to kill you!” She rushed at him with her knife. But everything happened too fast. One minute she was attacking him, the next minute she was falling against him. The last thing she heard him say as her knife fell to the floor and her world went dark was, “The hard way it is, then.”