Chapter 9 The Counterattack

The morning after Amara's confession, the atmosphere in Cole's penthouse felt different. It wasn't simply because the sun broke through the horizon with streaks of gold that spilled across the skyline. No-the difference was heavier, charged. Like the air before a storm.

Amara woke to the sound of her children's laughter echoing faintly from the living room. For a moment, she simply lay there, clutching the blanket to her chest, breathing in the rare sound. Joy. Innocence. A piece of normalcy she hadn't heard in so long. Yet even as warmth filled her heart, anxiety licked at the edges of her peace. David would not stay silent for long.

Cole was already awake, dressed sharply, phone pressed to his ear. His voice carried that quiet command she'd come to recognize-strategic, precise, unyielding. When he ended the call, his gaze found hers immediately.

"You didn't sleep," he said, reading the weariness in her eyes.

"Neither did you," she answered softly.

He crossed the room, crouching by her bedside so that his presence filled her vision. "Amara, what you told me last night-it changes everything. I've set things in motion already. Investigators, forensic accountants, cybersecurity teams. If David thinks he can keep covering his fraud, he's mistaken."

Her chest tightened. "Cole, he doesn't just operate on spreadsheets and bank accounts. You don't understand how far he'll go-"

Cole interrupted, his voice like steel. "I do. And that's why we're fighting this on all fronts. You said he thrives in darkness. Then we'll drag every secret into the light."

Amara opened her mouth to argue but froze when Cole reached out, brushing her trembling hand with his fingers. "Trust me," he said quietly. "I won't let him destroy you again."

Something about his certainty stilled her. She nodded, though fear still curled deep in her belly.

By noon, the Harrington penthouse became a war room. Large files sprawled across Cole's mahogany table-bank records, transaction trails, suspicious contracts unearthed by his team. Cole's closest aide, Daniel, a man with keen eyes and a military background, stood with a tablet in hand.

"Preliminary scans confirm what Amara said," Daniel reported. "Multiple shell companies linked to David Adewale. Fraudulent property schemes, forged contracts with oil suppliers. He's laundering money through at least three offshore accounts."

Cole's jaw tightened. "Get everything documented. I want evidence packaged and ready to hand to regulators."

Daniel hesitated. "Sir, if we move too quickly, he'll know we're onto him. Men like David... they fight dirty." His glance flickered toward Amara. "And not just legally."

Amara shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. She wanted to shrink into herself, but Cole spoke before she could.

"That's exactly why we won't cower," Cole said firmly. "David thrives on intimidation. We meet his darkness with precision, light, and strength."

Still, Amara couldn't shake the unease crawling along her skin. She knew her ex better than anyone-he was cunning, ruthless, and backed by forces not of this world.

That night, her fears proved right.

Kayla, her second child, awoke screaming, her small body thrashing in bed. Amara rushed to her side, heart pounding. Kayla's eyes rolled back, her lips moving rapidly though no words came out, as though caught in some unseen grip.

"Kayla!" Amara cried, shaking her gently. "Baby, wake up!"

But the air in the room grew thick-pressing, suffocating. The lamp flickered violently. Amara felt it: a dark presence lurking, unseen but suffocating, filling the corners with menace.

Her heart clenched. David.

Suddenly, Cole was there, pulling Amara behind him as he scooped Kayla into his arms. His voice thundered, commanding in a way she'd never heard before.

"Enough!" His words rang like a gavel striking. "You will not touch this child!"

The air trembled. For a moment, Kayla's body went rigid, then slumped, breathing heavily against Cole's chest. The flickering stopped. The heaviness lifted.

Amara's hands shook as she reached for her daughter, but Cole didn't release her immediately. His jaw was tight, his eyes blazing with something fierce.

"I felt it," he whispered. "The darkness you spoke of. It's real. And it's here." He turned, locking eyes with Amara. "He's using your children, isn't he? Attacking them to keep control."

Tears streamed down Amara's cheeks. "Yes," she whispered. "It's always been them. The nightmares, the illnesses, the strange accidents-David feeds off their suffering." She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "I can't protect them from something I can't even see!"

Cole placed Kayla gently back in bed, brushing a tender hand over her hair until her breathing steadied. Then he turned back to Amara, gripping her shoulders firmly.

"Amara, listen to me. This is not just his battle anymore. It's ours. And you are not powerless."

His conviction cut through her despair like a blade. She looked up at him, eyes wide, searching his face.

"You have something David can never understand," Cole continued, his voice fierce but steady. "Faith. Resilience. And children who carry light stronger than his darkness. Tonight proved it-his attack couldn't last, not when confronted."

Amara shook her head, fear battling hope. "But how do we fight something like this? It's not just lawyers or courts-it's... it's witchcraft."

Cole's lips curved in a grim smile. "Then we fight with weapons greater than his. Truth. Light. And prayer. I don't pretend to understand everything about the spiritual realm, but I know this-darkness can't withstand light."

For a long moment, silence stretched. The sound of Kayla's soft breathing filled the room.

And then, slowly, Amara nodded. Something stirred in her-a flicker of the faith she once carried like fire, now rekindling.

The next days became a blend of natural and supernatural counterattacks.

Cole's team uncovered more evidence of David's fraudulent empire, each document exposing another layer of deceit. Amara sat with them, identifying names, patterns, details only she would know.

But at night, when the shadows grew heavy and whispers threatened to invade their peace, they fought differently. Together, Amara and Cole prayed over the children, declaring protection, speaking light into every corner of the penthouse. To Amara's surprise, Cole prayed with the conviction of a warrior, as though born for this very fight.

And slowly, the attacks began to falter. Nightmares eased. The heaviness lifted quicker each time. The children, once fearful, began to laugh more freely, their innocence shining again.

One evening, as they tucked the youngest-little Liam-into bed, he looked up at Cole with wide eyes.

"Uncle Cole," he said softly, "the bad man tried to come last night. But there was a big light around me. Like fire. He couldn't get in."

Amara froze, tears brimming. She glanced at Cole, who simply smiled and brushed Liam's hair.

"That's because you're safe now," Cole said gently. "No darkness can touch you."

The boy nodded sleepily, curling into his blanket with peace.

And for the first time in years, Amara dared to believe it was true.

But David was not done.

Far away, in a dimly lit chamber filled with incense and shadows, David Adewale knelt before a shrine. His eyes glowed with an unnatural fire as he whispered curses, calling on powers that had fed him wealth for years. But every incantation bounced back, his frustration mounting.

"Why?" he snarled. "Why does it not work?"

The priest beside him frowned, shaking his head. "Someone stands in the gap. A shield stronger than your curses has been raised."

David's face twisted with rage. "Then we will break it. Whatever it takes."

Back at the penthouse, Amara stood by the window, city lights twinkling beneath her. Cole joined her, slipping a hand into hers.

"He's coming harder," she whispered, sensing the storm gathering.

Cole's grip tightened. "Then let him come. We'll be ready. Together."

And for the first time, Amara didn't just feel like a victim waiting for destruction. She felt like a warrior, standing side by side with a man who would not abandon her.

The counterattack had begun