Chapter 3 Secrets And Shadows

The towering glass windows of Chief Lazarus's office bathed the room in the silver glow of Victoria Island's night skyline. Traffic roared faintly below, a blur of headlights and ambition. But the man inside the corner office wasn't focused on the city. His eyes were fixed on the reflection in the window-his own face lined with age, burden, and suspicion.

Behind him, the room was silent, apart from the steady tick of a minimalist clock on the wall. He leaned back in his leather chair, fingers interlaced over his chest, staring at the ceiling. For months now, subtle sabotage had crept into his company like a slow poison-contracts vanishing, plans collapsing just before execution, and confidential decisions leaking to competitors.

It wasn't luck. It wasn't incompetence.

It was betrayal.

And Chief Laz had a name in mind: Frank.

The man he had trusted, mentored, and given authority and access to. He'd once seen promise in Frank's ambition. Now, he saw only a snake hissing in the tall grass.

The intercom buzzed. "Sir, Frank is here."

Right on cue.

Chief Laz's voice was calm but clipped. "Send him in."

The door opened smoothly, and Frank walked in with his usual swagger-well-dressed in a navy suit, a crisp white shirt, and no tie. His hair was slicked back, and that ever-confident smile was plastered across his face. Too confident.

"Good evening, sir," he said, stepping in. "You wanted to see me?"

Laz gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Sit."

Frank obeyed with practiced ease, crossing one leg over the other.

"I've been thinking," Laz began, his voice measured, "about expanding. Overseas. Dubai came to mind."

Frank tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Dubai?"

Laz nodded, keeping his eyes unreadable. "The luxury scene there is exploding. Real estate. High-end logistics. Discretionary services. I want us to have a footprint there. You've always had a sharp eye. What do you think?"

Frank's eyes sparkled for a moment. "I think it's a brilliant move. If we position ourselves correctly, we could secure influence in three sectors at once. Especially if we form local partnerships."

"You think?" Laz asked, a touch too casually.

"I know," Frank replied. "We'd have to set up the paperwork discreetly, of course. Loop in only senior managers. If you're serious, I can start drawing up potential contacts and routes for investment."

"Do that," Laz said smoothly, offering a tight smile. "But keep this within your department for now."

Frank's smile widened. "Of course. Always."

Always, Laz echoed in his mind. Like you've always leaked everything to Shadrach?

Frank rose confidently. "I'll get started right away."

Laz nodded. "Close the door on your way out."

As soon as Frank exited, Laz's smile vanished. He turned in his chair, unlocked a drawer, and pulled out a second phone-smaller, older, with only three contacts. The one reserved for silent wars.

He dialed a secure number.

"Proceed with the Gambia operation," he said without preamble. "Under my personal oversight. No digital trails. Paper records only. Keep all communications off the company grid."

The voice on the other end was efficient. "Understood. The team is in position. You'll receive physical copies at the Lekki safehouse."

Laz ended the call and set the phone down beside him. For the first time that night, he allowed himself a breath.

Dubai was bait. Gambia was the real deal. A discreet partnership with Diana's cousins, who held influence in the Gambian trade sector. It would stabilize Boca Holdings' shaky finances and give him leverage far beyond what the Dubai decoy could offer.

Frank would take the bait. Feed it to Shadrach. They'd watch Dubai burn while the Gambia deal bloomed quietly under Laz's hand.

A tap on the office door startled him. It opened without a word.

Ben stepped in, his brows furrowed.

"You called for me, Dad?"

Laz nodded, motioning for him to close the door. "We need to talk."

Ben approached, hands in his pockets. "What's going on?"

"Frank is the leak," Laz said bluntly.

Ben didn't react at first. "You're sure?"

Laz's eyes narrowed. "The signs have been building. Patterns. Timing. He's been reporting to Shadrach. Feeding him data. I just fed him a false lead to test it."

Ben sat down, jaw tightening. "You think he'll run to Shadrach immediately?"

"No," Laz said. "He'll package it neatly, let it leak slowly. He's methodical like that. He doesn't know I've already moved the real pieces."

Ben exhaled, nodding. "And what's my role?"

"I want you to play along. Pretend you're supporting the Dubai move. Echo Frank's points in meetings. Help him feel validated."

"You want him to think I'm in his corner," Ben realized aloud. "He's always been wary of me."

"That's why he'll believe it. You're my son. If you agree with him, he'll think he's finally in control."

Ben looked at his father. "What's your endgame?"

Laz's expression hardened. "When the time is right, we expose him. Legally. Publicly. We sever all ties and collapse his pipeline to Shadrach."

Ben hesitated. "Are you sure this won't blow back?"

"It might," Laz admitted. "But better a controlled fire than a full explosion. Boca must survive. And Frank-" his voice turned cold, "-will not drag our name through the gutter for a few coins of loyalty to a shadow boss."

There was a beat of silence.

Ben's phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, then frowned. "Collins just texted. He's not home. He's at a private club in Lekki. Says he's making new friends."

Laz sighed. "Watch him. He's reckless, and he doesn't understand the war we're in."

Ben stood, eyes sharp. "I'll have Tomiwa check on him."

"Good. And Ben-" Laz paused. "No matter what happens, keep the Gambia deal airtight. That's our future."

Ben nodded once, then walked out.

Laz turned back toward the window. The city still buzzed beneath him, but his mind was on the shadows-Frank's ambition, Shadrach's schemes, Collins's recklessness, and Ben's growing sense of responsibility.

The board was set.

The players were in motion.

And the first trap had just been laid.