As he finished speaking, I felt a sudden jolt, and the world around me began to fade away. I was snapped out of the vision and found myself back in the present, gasping for breath as if I had been underwater for too long.The Hall of Whispers, unlike the desolate darkness I had left it in, was now bathed in the warm, golden glow of candlelight. The oppressive presence that had surrounded me was gone, and I noticed that Harry was standing motionless, his eyes vacant. It seemed his spirit had been transported to another realm, just like mine.As I watched, Harry's eyes flickered back to life, and he took a deep breath, his expression a mask of calmness. "You must have seen your future a bit," I declared, trying to break the silence."Yes, and..." Harry's voice trailed off, and I caught a glimpse of deep sadness in his eyes before he quickly masked it. I sensed that he was struggling to come to terms with what he had seen."There's no need to say what you don't want to," I replied, my v
"What a bad way to welcome your husband," he replied with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "What are you doing here in the city?" I asked, still trying to process the surprise of seeing him. "Well, I came for business," Sam replied, his expression turning serious. "You always want me to be serious with my life, and now I am." "What business are you doing as a slave?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. But Sam's expression turned stern, and he raised his hands, palms facing me. "You don't need to worry about that," he said firmly. "And mind you, don't use the word 'slave' on me again?" I was taken aback by his reaction, but my eyes widened in shock as I took in the sight of his hands. The slave bands were gone! "What the...?" I trailed off, stunned. "How did you get rid of it?" I asked, my mind racing with questions. "Whitewater has been underestimated for too long despite being strong. I found a way around it," Sam said with a smile, his eyes gleaming
My mind reeled in shock. The president and the first lady were dead? But there had been no news about it online. And the Immortal had killed them? I couldn't wrap my head around it. And what's more, he was declaring a lock in power with Drake, which meant Drake must be incredibly strong. But I shouldn't be surprised; he was a Whitewater, after all, a pack rumored to be perhaps the strongest to have ever existed. Drake scoffed again, his expression twisted in disdain. "Did you think I care about the president and that useless woman?" he spat, his words sending another shockwave through me. “Your existence poses a greater threat to this country, which is why you should die,” Drake concluded, his tone cold and detached. “I am leaving. Get stronger, acquire more skills and experience, and challenge me,” he retorted, before disappearing into thin air. I quickly got back into the Lamborghini, switching from the driver's seat to the passenger seat. Drake entered the car, his eyes narrow
4 months later Daisy's POV I stood before the entire class in the D Hall building, named after Drake. Mr. Oparah had managed to delay the presentation once again, citing his busy business schedule. Drake, who rarely attended lectures, had instructed me to keep him updated on the day of the presentation. To my right stood the high table, comprising esteemed individuals from the institution. Surprisingly, Drake was among them. I shouldn't have been surprised, though, given his success as a businessman and potential major shareholder. As I stood alongside my fellow presenters, each took turns delivering their presentations. When it was finally my turn, I presented confidently. However, unlike the other presenters, who received applause, I was met with silence. I felt a pang of shame, my face growing hot with embarrassment. As I stood there, someone from the crowd suddenly stood up, and to my surprise, it was Sam, but what caught me off guard even more was that Drake also rose to hi
I took my seat, and soon, the organizer's voice filled the room. "It's time to announce the top three presenters. But first, I want to acknowledge that every single presenter did an outstanding job. Before we declare the winners, let's hear from our distinguished guests at the high table.” One by one, the dignitaries at the high table began to commend each group leader, but whenever they spoke about me, their words were shrouded in mystery, leaving me wondering what they truly meant. That was until Drake took the microphone. "Well, every group leader made a commendable effort with their business plans," he began. "But, Daisy, your research suggests that you had interactions with Smithson Corporation?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes, sir," I replied, my heart beating slightly faster. Drake's gaze intensified. "I noticed that Smithson Corporation's proposal submission mirrored some key points you mentioned. Were you involved in the creation of that proposal?" I hesita
"DJ, roll the song up!" the MC commanded, and the DJ promptly obliged, filling the hall with music. "Hmm," the MC teased, pausing for dramatic effect as the room fell silent. I heard whispers behind me, speculating about the winner. "Who could be the winner?" someone whispered. Another voice chimed in, "Those I thought would top the board already took second and third place." The whispers added to the suspense, fueling my own curiosity about who would take the top spot. The MC's voice cut through the whispers, building anticipation. "The First position goes to... G...R..." He paused, leaving the audience in suspense. "Stop it, MC!" someone from the crowd exclaimed. "This suspense is too much!" another voice added, echoing the frustration and excitement that filled the hall. "O" the MC declared again, seemingly oblivious to the crowd's pleas for him to reveal the winner. The music continued to play in the background, building the tension. "Group" he called out, his voice dr
He removed his own jacket from its packaging and put it on, revealing the bold, stylish design that read "The Lecturer" in prominent letters."Winners, I've never done this before," He said, "but I want to create this memory with my students, so I can look back on it in the future and smile. Put on your jackets like me."They eagerly obliged, responding with a chorus of "Yes, sir!", "Okay, sir!", and "No problem, sir!" as they donned their jackets.The MC collected Drake's items from my hand as I removed the nylon to put my own on, which was promptly collected by the security personnel present.Just like the lecturer's jacket, mine had "The First" emblazoned on the left side of the front, with a larger, bolder inscription on the back. The second- and third-place winners' jackets followed a similar design."Sir Drake, please do me the honour of creating a memory with me by putting on your jacket and golden medal," Mr. Oparah
My face flushed with embarrassment, and I felt a surge of heat rise to my cheeks. Why was he being so direct with me all of a sudden? "Sir Drake, I didn't think that at all," I lied, trying to maintain a neutral tone. Drake's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "What's the essence of using 'Sir' now, when you love disrespecting me by calling my name rudely? After all, you're calling me Drake in your heart.” he declared. My heart skipped a beat as I felt a flutter in my chest. "Drake, please, can you leave? I can't cook with you around," I declared, trying to sound firm. Drake's expression turned resolute. "Teach me how to prepare the noodles the Nigerian way. I'm not leaving," he replied, his tone brooking no argument. "But I can't....I am..." I stuttered, unsure of how to respond. "You are what?" he asked.
"Daisy, is there anything you're not telling me?" he asked. It took me a while to respond, and when I did, I simply said, "Yeah." "What is it?" he pressed. "The walls have ears," I replied. "Yeah, they do," he agreed, and we continued standing beside each other, lost in our own thoughts. As the minutes ticked by, Drake finally spoke up. "Let's go to my car." We got to his vehicle, got in, and his bodyguard stood guard outside. "I'm listening," Drake said, turning to face me. I was initially at a loss for words, unsure of how he would react to the secrets I wanted to share. What if he became angry or turned against me? What if he stopped talking to me? The thought of losing his friendship was unbearable. "Daisy, what did you want to tell me?" he asked. "I..." I stuttered, but before I could continue, the words tumbled out in a rush. "M
"Lead the way," I declared, and she obliged, guiding me to a secret location. I had initially wanted to inform our lecturers, but I decided against it, following her instead. As we entered the apartment, I was taken aback by the sight of Drake standing there, waiting for me. "Drake!" I exclaimed, surprised by his presence. "I'll take my leave," Exa announced, departing and leaving me alone with Drake and Joe. Drake's intense stare made me feel uneasy, and I wondered what was on his mind. Now that I thought about it, the jet we flew in on belonged to him. Did he already know about the incident on the jet? Did he know that someone died? And, more unsettling, did he know that I was the one responsible? "Daisy" was all he said, his voice low and even. I felt a surge of nervousness as I waited for him to continue. But then, he asked, "Did your stomach still have a little space left?" His question caught me off guard, and I was surprised by the unexpected turn of events. "Why did you
I grabbed one of the plush towels, which looked and felt brand new, and wrapped it around my waist. The towel seemed small compared to my hips, but it would do. I stepped outside, and Sarah was still fast asleep.I took my time, doing everything I needed to do, including changing into fresh clothes. Yet, Sarah remained soundly asleep, oblivious to my activities.I was done with everything I wanted to do, and I put my things back in their place as I began to wonder: was she naturally a deep sleeper, or had she not slept at all last night? It's a known fact that light sleepers tend to sleep more deeply if they haven't slept the night before or for more than two days.I got out and sat down on the couch, deciding to flip through channels until I found something interesting to watch. My mind briefly wandered back to the events of the previous day, but I quickly pushed the thoughts aside. Maybe I'd confide in Drake about it later, but I hadn't made up my mind yet.As I watched the show, I
"Draco," I called, my voice firm."Why are you contacting me?" he declared, his tone cautious."I have Love with me, and she'll die if you don't do my bidding," I declared. He fell silent, and for a moment, I wondered if the intel I bought was incorrect."I don't believe you," he declared, his skepticism evident."Let's use WhatsApp," I suggested, a sly smile spreading across my face. "I won't only let you hear her, but you'll also see where I hurt her." I referred to the injury she sustained when I pushed her into the vehicle's trunk.I ended the call and switched to a video call, which displayed only his woman, struggling to communicate something to him with her mouth covered. I brought the phone to my masked face and spoke to him.But before I could speak, he beat me to it."What did you want?" he asked, his tone firm."I want your life," I declared, my voice cold and detached, as the woman I had ti
"Yes, it was destroyed by someone before the event," he replied."What type of being is that man?" I asked, curiosity piqued."A human," he replied matter-of-factly."Is he one of the workers in the plane?" I asked, seeking clarification."No, he is not," he replied."Now that's confusing," I said, furrowing my brow. "It simply means that, as far as he's not a registered person, he's the one targeting someone and getting killed in the process.""Yes, I thought as much," he agreed. "But then I couldn't grasp the fact that, even though he was killed in self-defense, why didn't he or she report the case to us?" he declared, his tone laced with puzzlement."Except the person is a slave," He added, the implication hanging in the air."Yeah, that's what I'm thinking, except the person is a slave," I added, Daisy's image flashing in my mind."Listen, and I repeat, listen carefully," I emphasized, my tone firm. "This case should die with those who know about it and not be investigated further
All hope seemed lost as I frantically thought of an explanation, with all eyes on me. I didn't want to attribute it to my period, nor did I want to reveal the truth. "I'm not surprised you're a useless, clumsy slave," Felix sneered. "Spilling red grape wine on yourself is childish." I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I was safe. But then Mrs. Jordan, seated at an angle where she could see the stain, chimed in. "I don't think it's red grape wine," she declared, her words sending a jolt through me. "And if it is not that, it doesn't look like the right position for a period, even if it came unexpectedly, and it's a little stain," she added, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the stain. At this point, I thought it wise to swallow my fear and explain myself and the events that had transpired. Just as the silence was about to become unbearable and I was about to confess, Felix intervened, unwittingly saving me from trouble. "It's the wine," Felix suggested, "I saw the way she
As I looked at the assassin, I barely heard him whisper "Betty" in pain. Water fell from his eyes, and his hand slipped from his bleeding wound. He died. A new wave of fear washed over me as I realized I had just killed someone. I shivered, staring at the blood on my hands. Panicked and trying to conceal what I had just done, I dragged the body and hid it. "Daisy, I can't believe you just killed someone," I whispered to myself, my hands shaking uncontrollably as fear consumed me. Yes, he was an assassin, and my actions could be justified as self-defense, but the weight of taking a life was crushing me. I stumbled to a nearby sink and began washing my hands with soap, desperately trying to scrub away the blood and the guilt. My hands trembled violently as I rinsed them, the fear of what I had done still overwhelming me. As I walked towards the exit, I started to clear the blockade, my mind racing with thought
"I told you, didn't I?" he yelled, his blade flashing in the light as he aimed it at me. I dodged it by sheer luck, my fear-fueled instincts taking over. But in my attempt to evade him, he grabbed my hair, and I felt a searing pain as he dragged me out. He pulled me across the jet floor until my back slammed against a dead end. "This time, you won't be able to dodge my attack," he yelled, pinning me to the it with one hand. I begged for my life, my voice trembling with fear. "Please don't kill me." He released his grip on my shoulder, his eyes roaming over my face. "The more I look at you, the more I find you beautiful and attractive," he said, his voice low and menacing. He began to toy with my loose hair, his fingers intertwining with the strands as he held the knife in his other hand. "It's such a pity that such a pretty thing will have to die," he added, his voice with sadistic sentiment. "Don't worry, since
Upon arrival, I swiftly completed my task and began heading back, only to be surprised by a man with a deep scar on his chin approaching me at an unusually slow pace.“Mr., you must have missed your way around,” I thought aloud, noticing that this place was designated for females. Instead of responding, he continued walking closer, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on me and I felt alarmed.He was a stranger, and the menacing look on his face made me wonder what he was after. I took a cautious step backward as he advanced, my fear escalating. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice laced with apprehension, as I continued to move backward.Instead of responding, his expression turned even more sinister, his eyes seeming to bore into mine with malicious intent. This unsettling standoff continued until my back hit a dead end, leaving me with nowhere to escape.He brandished a knife, and I was consumed by fear, thinking, "Is this how I'll