Emma released his hands and turned to the man in the suit. “Prepare the perimeter. Amaka, listen to me.” He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You always said you never had a choice. Today, you do. You can get in this car, leave with my men, and be taken to safety in a secure residence. Or you can stay here, by my side, and face those who want to devour everything I’ve built.”
Amaka watched the dust approaching. She saw again the young girl from the beginning, the one who swept her aunt’s courtyard, head bowed, waiting for orders. Then she looked at Emma, the man who, despite his secrets, had restored her dignity.
“If they think I’m your weakness,” she said, her voice hardening as fear turned into cold determination, “then they’ll learn that I’m also your strength.”
Emma stared at her, stunned. A flicker of pride, mingled with deep concern, crossed her face. The vehicles screeched to a halt. The doors flew open. Men in black, this time armed with files and icy stares, emerged. At their head was an elderly man with silver hair and a cruel smile that never touched his eyes.
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