TWO WEEKS LATER“Muna! Muna!”The voice rang brightly from the lounge, lively and full of cheer.“Where are you, Muna?”“I’m here, Granny!” Muna’s voice echoed from the other end of the house.Granny, the one calling out, was already on her way to the kitchen—her smile wide and contagious. She leaned slightly on her walking stick, each step deliberate, until she reached the doorway and caught sight of what Muna was up to.“Oh, you’re cooking?” she asked, amused, as she took a curious bite of the golden-brown fried potatoes sizzling on the plate. Her eyes immediately darted to the pot of soup bubbling on the stove. She nudged Muna gently with her elbow.“Haven’t I told you over and over not to come into this kitchen?” she scolded lightly. “Your husband doesn’t like it. If you keep sneaking in here, how am I supposed to convince the Ruffian Lord that you’ve been resting and well cared for while he’s away?”Muna simply smiled, touched by Granny’s concern. It wasn’t just about obeying her

Seeing Rita and her daughters in that place was the last thing anyone expected.Granny was still reeling from the surprise of their presence when Rita took a step forward.“I know you’re not thrilled to see me here, Mrs. Scott,” Rita began, trying to sound humble. “But I promise—we didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”Granny nodded slowly, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.“Alright then. You’re not here to cause trouble. So, what exactly are you here to do?”Rita gestured to her daughter Elena, who stepped forward and handed her a lunchbox. Rita raised it, displaying it to Granny and Muna.“Here. We brought this for Franco—well, I mean, the Ruffian Lord. It’s a special delicacy, prepared by us. Especially Elena. She made it herself. We just want to give it to him, that’s all.”Granny shrugged, unimpressed.“And so?”Rita forced a polite smile. “Well, if you’re wondering why we brought it, it’s just… We don’t exactly have the permission to approach him directly. I mean, he is

Granny picked up the phone, her eyes immediately scanning the screen for any new messages Muna had received. One particular text caught her attention — it was from Dave.She squinted slightly, then read aloud so that everyone in the room could hear:> “Greetings, My Lady! The Lord will be returning today. He wishes to see the Frostons there on the day of his arrival. I don't know how possible it'd be, but he would love to see them there!”A hush fell over the room as the weight of the message settled. Mr. Jones, who had been quietly listening from the corner, stepped forward, a deep frown etched into his face.“That’s strange,” he said, arms folded across his chest. “It makes me wonder why on earth the Lord would want to see the Frostons at the welcome party — especially at the airport, of all places. From what I remember, those people treated him like dirt. Honestly, they deserve a good dose of punishment, not the honor of welcoming him back alongside millions.”Granny said nothing a

Muna stared at Michael for a long moment before finally reaching for the envelope. Her hands were steady, but her eyes told a different story—rage, suspicion, and a trace of doubt flickered within them.Michael caught the look and smirked.“Why the hesitation, Muna? Why delay your special moment? Go ahead and open it. That’s where all the truth you’ve been searching for lies.”She said nothing. With quiet determination, she tore open the envelope and drew out its contents. Her breath stilled when she realized they were photographs—grainy images that resembled those from a CCTV camera.Muna studied them carefully. Each one captured Franco in the act of attacking Michael. In one, Franco’s fist struck Michael across the face. In another, Franco lifted him off the ground. There was one of a slap, another of repeated blows—every frame screamed violence.But something didn’t add up.If her memory was right, this was the very same day Michael had sent her those shameless nude photos—photos F

“There’s a lot buried in that ridiculous agreement you’re forcing on me,” Michael said, his tone laced with contempt. “You think you can take advantage of the evidence you hold against Franco just to corner me? Sorry to disappoint you, Muna—your little plan failed miserably.”He raised one of the photographs, the one showing Franco lifting him off the ground, and waved it in her face. His voice grew sharper as he added, “This evidence alone is enough to destroy Franco. Once I hand it over to the council, they won’t hesitate. They’ll arrest your precious husband—and not only that, they’ll strip him of his throne.”Michael let his words hang, giving them time to sink deep into Muna’s mind. Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower. “Think carefully, Muna. When the whole truth comes out, what do you think will happen? They’ll wipe your so-called husband from power. And when he falls, your reputation—the integrity you’re so desperate to protect, your ambition to become the