Chapter 25

***Kenya.***

All my life, never had anything of such magnitude engulfed me until now.

Life, for me, once revolved around my passion for dance. But the emergence of Levi Ruthford, my husband, just tipped my life.

Before Levi left, he asked me to talk to Tamar, our housekeeper, about anything I needed. He had said that with such conviction that it almost weakened me. And I doubted I was going to need anything from him, if I had a choice.

First, Hank's death, then Levi's role in my debut. And worse, Levi's role in Hank's death - well, indirectly. A justified action, because Hank had hurt me so gravelly, his actions robbing me of my memories. Memories which were precious to me, no matter how little.

Somehow, Levi's description of everything that happened that night, jolted a particular feeling back to me. An instinct. A dread of Hank and how I used to feel in his presence when he was alive.

A fleeting picture suddenly crossed my mind and I found myself recalling Hank's constant abuse whenever we made out. I regretted how my mind couldn't currently recall that night he had tried raping me.

But I was relieved that I could at least remember how despicable he had been. It gave me a reason not to mourn the man. Yet, I couldn't shake off Levi's awful methods. Diabolical. I wasn't certain I wanted to participate in his world. But I couldn't escape now, could I?

Choosing to stay on the beach a little longer, I wept about my pathetic situation.

***Levi***.

It was 7pm in the evening and I could feel the exhaustion of the past few hours weigh on me. I stretched, after being entrenched in a series of meetings since I left Kenya earlier. Not a moment's break since then. Except for coffee breaks that were allowed in the virtual meeting.

The meetings had mostly been election related. One concerning Chicago STA Constructions Architecture and Building department. Informing me of the reasons for the recent upsurge in dissatisfied clients in the Chicago branch. The cause was a change in the supply of building materials by one of the chosen vendors. An action which cost me countless profits in the last months. I finally decided that a lawsuit be served that said vendor for the negligence. At least it would teach my other suppliers not to mess with me.

As for the meeting with party members, they had wanted to discuss the recent allegations thrown at me by Crompton. Allegations which the party members suggested I addressed in a press conference. Yesterday, Crompton publicly accused me in the media, of being involved in conflicts that had torn down some of the African countries for over two decades. However, instead of taking offense at the allegations, during the meeting, I was amused. My passiveness amazed them.

Lying languidly on the sofa in my office, idly watching the wooden ceiling beams, I recalled the text from Rico. So Crompton had been behind nosing around my businesses. I frowned, pulling out my phone.

"Blake, hi. These recent words pulled out by Crompton. Investigate them. I read the transcript of his press release, and he referred to The RINA MINES having ties with some conflicts that have taken place over the years in some African countries. Do some ground research and report to me immediately," I instructed.

Sitting upright, I let my thoughts travel to my wife, dispelling my ire. I wondered if she had had anything to eat yet. It was already late, and I should have checked up on her but couldn't, because of the intense meetings all afternoon. *Some husband I was*, I sighed, palming my face. *I should be more attentive to her.*

I recalled my confession to her earlier on the beach. I wondered how she felt about me, now she knew this side of me. If only she knew the real me.*

Walking out of the office, I went to be her husband. The thought of that brought sweet, wicked memories of that night had been dessert.

Walking into our magnificently decorated bedroom, I was greeted by silence and a chill from the open window. Frowning, I walked further into the room, checking the ensuite bathroom. Only the light breeze outside, which brought in the saltiness of the sea, greeted me. My brows furrowed while I went downstairs to find Kenya.

Coming into the kitchen, hoping that she was having dinner, I was displeased to find only Tamar, giving instructions to a maid.

"Tamar, have you any idea where Mrs Ruthford is?" I asked, the name pleasing.

"Yes, Sir," Tamar answered, slightly bemused. "She asked us to prepare one of the downstairs rooms earlier. She is there now. I just took her some aspirin for her headache, after she declined having any dinner."

"Headache? Downstairs..." I stood aghast. *Refusing dinner?* I echoed, inwardly. Tamar and the maid looked at me, confused. I inhaled a steady breath.

"Tamar, would you run a hot water bath for the both of us, upstairs and add some bath salts. Perhaps it would help the headache." I instructed, turning away to go get Kenya. I was infuriated.

There were only three bedrooms on each floor and I didn't mind banging on every door until I found my little wife.

Reining in my emotions, I knocked on door number two, feeling a modicum of relief hearing her voice from behind it. Opening the door, I walked into the room, my shoulders squared.

Her back was to me as she sat on the bed, and absently said, "Tamar, no need to stress yourself more tonight. Thank you very much for your help." She sniffed, gazing at the open window. *She had been crying. No wonder she suffered a headache.*

"What in God's name are you doing in this room, Kenya?" I roared, startling her. She half twisted to gaze at me, shock on her face. "And what the fuck are you wearing?"