Chapter 3 - The House of Cards-3
Femi turned his gaze onto me, his eyes bloodshot, his face flushed with a mixture of humiliation and blinding rage.
"You knew," he breathed, his voice trembling. "The night I told you she was coming... you already knew all of this."
"I found the initial discrepancy three days ago when I was cleaning the study," I said calmly. "You left a paper trail under the desk. You were so busy posturing, so busy trying to put me in my place and force me to swallow my pride, that you didn't notice I was dismantling your lies piece by piece."
"You set me up!" Femi yelled, taking a step toward me, his fists clenched. "You invited all these people here today just to humiliate me!"
"You invited them, Femi," I reminded him quietly. "You planned the housewarming. You bought the decorations. You begged me to be mature. So I gave you the ultimate maturity: I allowed you to showcase your achievements to everyone you wanted to impress."
Ada stepped up beside me, her arms crossed, holding her phone high. "Hey, big guy, take another step toward her and see what happens. Half the people in this room are live-streaming this to their Instagram stories right now. Your boss at the bank is probably watching."
Femi froze. He looked around the living room. His colleagues from the accounting firm, our neighbors, his cousins—everyone was looking at him not as a successful home buyer, but as a fraudulent, pathetic fraud who had ruined his own life to impress an ex-girlfriend.
Funmi scoffed, tapping her manicured nails against her leather bag. "Enough of this low-class drama. Mr. Adeleke, serve the notice so we can clear this place out. Femi, you have until twelve noon tomorrow to vacate the premises. Whatever furniture is left behind will be impounded."
"Wait a minute," I said, holding up my hand. "Not so fast, Funmi."
Funmi turned to me, raising an eyebrow disdainfully. "What do you want, little girl? You want your little tool set back? Take it and leave. You have no legal standing here."
"Actually," I smiled, pulling out a second document—this one stamped with an official wax seal from the Federal High Court of Lagos. "I have complete legal standing. Because while Femi was busy committing mortgage fraud with you, he omitted one very important detail about the company whose funds you've been laundering."
Funmi’s posture went completely rigid. The color drained from her lips.
"What company?" Femi whispered, completely lost.
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"Your father's old logistics firm, Funmi," I said, looking directly into her eyes. "Aura Logistics wasn't just losing money. It was running an illegal customs evasion ring through the Apapa ports. And guess who owns forty percent of the parent shares through her grandmother's trust?"
I pointed a thumb directly at my own chest.
