At that mont, upon hearing the words behind him, Festus froze completely. The color drained from his face, his chest tightened, and his fingers trembled against the arms of the chair. That voice deep, commanding, and sharp enough to slice through the air was one he could never mistake. It was the voice of his elder brother, Cora's father.
Imdiately, panic washed over him like a wave. His instincts scread to turn around, to defend himself, to co up with a lie that might save his skin, but the ropes binding him were too tight. Even his body betrayed him; his muscles stiffened in fear, and his throat went dry.
Clinton, still weak on the floor, recognized that sa voice too. Even with blood staining his lips and the dull ache on his swollen face, he managed to lift his head slightly, eyes widening as the realization struck him—his uncle was here, but how, how did that actually happen.
Then ca the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps. Each step echoed like a hamr striking guilt deeper into Festus's chest. And then, there he was Cora's father—standing tall in the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes cold, carrying both hurt and disappointnt that words could never describe.
"Well," he began slowly, his tone calm but deadly, "it seems my suspicion was right after all."
Festus's lips quivered. "B–brother, please, it's not what you—"
"Don't," Cora's father interrupted sharply, raising his hand. His gaze bore into Festus like fire eting oil. "I knew it. I've known for a long ti that sothing wasn't right. Every decision I made, every plan I shared with you, sohow found its way to the wrong hands. Every ti I trusted you, I saw how things twisted against . I told myself it was coincidence. I told myself no, it couldn't be my brother."
He took a few steps closer, his voice deepening. "I suspected you, Festus. Many tis. I wanted to set a trap. I wanted to prove it. But then I stopped myself. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to destroy the love, the bond, and the trust I had for you. You were my brother. I couldn't make myself see you as my enemy."
At that mont Cora's father's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as emotion threatened to break through his composure.
"But here you are caught in your own lies, sitting before the very man you tried to destroy, tied like a criminal, and still bold enough to laugh."
Again the room fell silent. Even the air felt heavy, almost suffocating.
Hearing what his father just said, Imdiately Festus opened his mouth to speak, but his brother cut him off again—his tone sharp, his eyes filled with betrayed rage.
"I gave you everything. I shared my roof, my table, my company, my life with you. And this is how you repay ? By stabbing in the back while smiling to my face?"
At that mont, Cora's father continued speaking, his tone calm but firm, each word cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Festus," he said, pausing as he took a deep breath, "my suspicion kept on growing, and yes there was no other person who could have done it if not Oliver. The very first day I saw him at the airport, I knew there was sothing different about him. Sothing… special."
Then he took a slow step forward, his eyes fixed on Festus, whose breathing had beco shallow. "When I said I wanted to discuss sothing private with him, this is exactly what I discussed. And Oliver, being as perceptive as he is, told that he had already been working on this matter. He said he had gathered several pieces of evidence that could hold you accountable. I agreed to see them, but I didn't want to rely on just evidence alone. Evidence can be manipulated, and I didn't want that."
His voice grew heavier, emotion lingering in his words. "That's why I told him to find a way to make you say it to make you speak it with your own mouth. I needed to hear it myself before I believed it. And yes… you did. You said it. You fell for it, little brother."
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Festus. He was trembling uncontrollably now, sweat running down his temple as his lips quivered. He could hardly breathe, his heart pounding like a drum inside his chest. He opened his mouth, but his voice broke before his words could even form.
"Brother," he finally managed to say, his voice low and cracked. "I'm… I'm very, very sorry. This wasn't how I ant it to be. I swear, this wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't an it that way."
He swallowed hard, his eyes glossy as he looked toward the ground.
"I was just… trying to raise my shoulder, to feel like I had so control, so respect. That's all. That was why I agreed to all of this, not because I actually did it. I didn't do it, brother. Don't listen to what Oliver said. Don't believe all those things, he's just jealous... jealous of , jealous of us."
Festus's voice grew desperate, trembling with fear. "I was just trying to get myself free from this whole situation to make myself feel proud and pampered. That's all I wanted. I never ant for any of this to happen."
At that mont, Cora's father let out a slow, mocking laugh. The kind of laugh that didn't just carry amusent but disappointnt, anger, and betrayal all rolled into one. He tilted his head, looked straight into Festus' eyes, and repeated with a cold smirk, "So… you didn't do it, huh?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
"Then explain this man's words," he said, pointing directly at Jas, who now stood awkwardly by the side, his eyes unable to et anyone else's. "Yes, I know this Jas," Cora's father continued, his voice getting louder and more pointed. "I know him. And I know exactly what he's been involved in. And guess who was right at the center of all of it egging him on, fueling the fire, pulling all the strings like a coward hiding behind a curtain? You, Festus. You."
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