10/08/2025
The Woman in the Rose-Gold Dress
Episode 5: Whispers in the Rain
If he was just a pawn... then who was truly pulling the strings?
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That question clung to Amara’s mind long after the sirens faded and the rain softened to a drizzle. She sat quietly in Tunde’s car, the rose-gold fabric of her dress damp and clinging to her skin. The night outside was silent except for the steady rhythm of water against metal.
Tunde broke the silence first. “You should get some rest. You’ve been through enough for one night.”
Amara stared out the window. “I can’t rest when I don’t know who’s still out there. Chuka’s arrest doesn’t close this. It just opens another door.”
He sighed, gripping the steering wheel. “Then we find out who’s behind it. Together.”
She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the glow of the streetlights. “You still trust me after everything?”
“I never stopped,” he said simply.
For a moment, the weight between them lightened, but it didn’t last. Her phone buzzed again... a sound that now felt like a warning more than a call.
The message read: “You shouldn’t have let them take him. You’ve made a bigger mistake than you realize.”
Her blood ran cold. The sender’s name was hidden... just a number she didn’t recognize.
“Tunde,” she whispered, handing him the phone.
He frowned, reading the message aloud.
“Whoever this is… they know about Chuka already.”
“How? He was just arrested thirty minutes ago.”
Tunde started the engine. “Then someone’s watching closer than we thought.”
By morning, the storm had cleared. The city moved on as if nothing had happened, but Amara couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest. The events of the night replayed in fragments... the scream, the flash drive, Chuka’s words, the gunshots, the blinking red light.
She sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open, the flash drive plugged in. Her heartbeat quickened as the files loaded. Folders labeled CONFIDENTIAL, PROJECT IFEOMA, and AUDIT LOGS appeared on the screen. But one stood out... a single file named “The Beginning.”
She hesitated, then double-clicked it.
A video opened. Grainy security footage flickered across the screen. It showed an office... familiar, but older. Chuka sat at a desk, speaking to someone off-camera. Then another figure stepped into view.
Amara’s hand flew to her mouth. It was her former boss, Chief Adeyemi... the man who had overseen both her and Tunde five years ago.
In the video, Chuka said, “She suspects. If she finds out, we lose everything.”
Chief Adeyemi replied calmly, “Then make her believe Tunde did it. She trusts you.”
Amara froze. Her chest tightened, anger and disbelief rising in equal measure. “He… he ordered it.”
Tunde leaned closer, eyes wide. “He was the one funding the project. If he wanted to cover up stolen funds, framing me made sense.”
Amara’s voice trembled. “And Chuka was his pawn.”
Tunde clenched his jaw. “Then this isn’t over.”
Before either of them could speak again, a loud knock echoed through the apartment. Three slow, deliberate raps.
Amara looked at Tunde. “Are you expecting anyone?”
He shook his head. “Stay here.”
He moved to the door cautiously, glancing through the peephole. No one was there. But on the floor lay a small black envelope, sealed with a golden wax stamp.
He picked it up and handed it to her. “Your name’s on it.”
Amara’s fingers trembled as she broke the seal. Inside was a single card with neatly printed words:
“You’re asking the right questions. But some truths are buried for a reason. Meet me at the Lagos Continental rooftop. Midnight.”
There was no signature.
Amara’s voice was barely a whisper. “This has to be from Adeyemi.”
Tunde frowned. “Or from someone else playing the same game.”
She stared at the card again, torn between fear and determination. “If there’s even a chance this leads to the truth, I have to go.”
“I’m coming with you,” Tunde said firmly.
She met his gaze, recognizing that tone... the one that used to make her feel safe. “Then we go together.”
Midnight came too quickly. The rooftop of the Lagos Continental shimmered under the city’s light, half-covered in mist. The air smelled of wet concrete and faint perfume.
Amara stepped forward, her heels echoing softly, while Tunde scanned the shadows. A faint hum of music floated up from the hotel lounge below.
Then a voice came from behind them. Calm. Familiar.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
They turned... and standing near the railing was
Chief Adeyemi, older now, his tailored suit glinting faintly in the moonlight.
Amara’s pulse quickened. “You set us up.”
He smiled faintly. “I protected my legacy.”
Tunde’s voice hardened. “By destroying ours?”
Adeyemi’s eyes narrowed. “You both were ambitious. Too ambitious. Someone had to take the fall to keep the investors calm.”
Amara stepped closer, fury in her voice. “You let two innocent people suffer for your greed.”
“Correction,” Adeyemi said coolly, “I let one man suffer. You were supposed to stay quiet.”
Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the rooftop.
Tunde stepped in front of Amara. “You’re not walking away from this.”
Adeyemi smirked. “You think justice is simple? That arresting Chuka ends it? You’re standing on evidence I buried years ago. If I go down, so do half the people funding this city.”
The wind whipped around them, carrying the weight of his words.
Amara’s eyes burned with tears. “You destroyed everything I believed in.”
Adeyemi’s expression softened... just for a moment. “My dear, belief doesn’t build empires. Secrets do.”
Before Tunde could respond, the sound of footsteps approached from behind. A silhouette emerged from the stairwell... someone holding a phone, recording.
“Chief Adeyemi,” a woman’s voice said. “Smile for the camera. The world deserves to hear the truth.”
Amara turned sharply. It was Inspector Ngozi, the officer from the marina.
Adeyemi’s composure cracked. “You’re making a mistake.”
“On the contrary,” the inspector said calmly.
“You already made yours five years ago.”
Officers rushed onto the rooftop as Adeyemi’s face drained of color. Amara stood still, the rain beginning to fall again, washing away years of silence.
Tunde looked at her, voice low. “It’s over now.”
She exhaled shakily. “No, Tunde. It’s just beginning. The truth isn’t the end... it’s the first wound before healing.”
He nodded, understanding. The city stretched out below them, alive and endless, as the first light of dawn touched the skyline. And in that moment, Amara knew... every secret comes at a price, and the final bill hadn’t been paid yet.
To be continued...
