Everyone froze.
Another scream followed.
Then a crash. Something breaking.
Amaka turned toward the door with sudden fury.
“I told you to lock her in!”
“She was locked,” one guard said nervously.
The scream came again, closer now, followed by a male voice shouting from somewhere in the house.
“Open this door!”
Amaka’s face changed.
That voice was not supposed to be there.
Chief Kletchi seized the moment.
“Doctor,” he said urgently, “if she leaves this room, you may never leave this house alive.”
The doctor stared at him.
“What?”
“She kills loose ends,” Chief Kletchi said. “Think. How many people already know this secret? And how many are still around?”
The doctor went pale.
The next sound was not a scream.
It was impact.
The bedroom door burst open.
Three armed men in plain clothes stormed in.
And behind them stood a face that almost made Chief Kletchi’s knees buckle with relief.
“Chuka!”
His head of private security.
The one man he trusted fully.
The one man who had stayed outside Amaka’s influence because Chief Kletchi had insisted his direct reports remain separate from household structures.
Chuka’s eyes locked on him instantly.
“Sir. Are you okay?”
“I will be,” Chief Kletchi said. “If you get me out of here.”
Chuka turned to the guards pinning him.
“Release him.”
Amaka screamed, “Don’t listen to him! I am your madam!”
Chuka raised his weapon slightly.
“I answer to Chief Kletchi Okafor,” he said. “Always have.”
The guards hesitated.
Then let go.
Amaka’s face twisted with rage.
“You traitor!”
Chuka did not even blink.
“Madam, we have evidence.”
Amaka laughed sharply. “Evidence? From who? The maid?”
Chuka nodded once.
“Yes. From the maid.”
Chief Kletchi’s heart jolted again.
“Where is Bissy?”
Chuka’s expression darkened.
“She escaped. Barely.”
Amaka went still.
