Faith Kamau had always believed she was in control. From the moment she agreed to Markus Adler's proposition in a candlelit restaurant off Muthaiga Road, she had told herself it was business. Strategic. Cold. A transaction.
She would get paid.
She would pass information.
She would spy on Amara.
But she would not care.
That illusion was dying now.
Every time she sat across from Amara, laughing over dinner or listening to her talk about the podcast with fiery hope in her eyes, something shifted. A crack. A discomfort.
Amara wasn't just some assignment.
She was a woman surviving war.
And Faith was starting to feel like a traitor planted in a sisterhood she secretly admired.
---
That morning, Faith stared at her phone for a long time.
A new message from Markus had come in at 4:13 a.m.
> "Be available tonight. Wear the red dress. Our friend Luca is in town."
She read it three times.
Then again.
And again.
Luca.
She had heard of him. Italian. Early forties. Banker with offshore dealings. Handsome. Dangerous. Rumored to have broken three hearts and three bank accounts in one year alone.
Faith had never met him in person. But Markus's tone wasn't a suggestion.
It was a leash.
---
By 9 p.m., she sat at the bar of Nairobi Serena Hotel. The red dress hugged her curves perfectly. Her lips were painted scarlet, her hair swept into a sleek bun.
She looked like power. She felt like prey.
Then she saw him.
Luca Romano.
He walked in wearing a navy suit and a wolf's smile. His eyes were cold, calculating, yet warm enough to mimic seduction. He walked like a man who knew every room belonged to him, even before entering.
"Faith Kamau," he said, kissing her hand with practiced ease. "Markus told me you were... unforgettable. He undersold you."
She smiled, tight-lipped.
The game had begun.
---
Over dinner, Luca charmed with every sentence. His accent laced each word with silk. He listened, asked questions, made her laugh.
He touched her hand when he spoke.
Made her feel seen.
It would have worked once. Maybe.
But Faith had studied predators. She knew Markus's patterns.
And this was classic conditioning.
Pleasure before the punishment.
---
Back at her apartment that night, she didn't sleep.
She played Amara's latest voice note again.
"They never break you all at once. They make you complicit. That way, when they finally destroy you, you'll think you deserved it."
Faith sat in silence.
Amara had no idea she was talking about her.
Yet it landed like a confession.
---
The next day, Faith met Natalie for coffee in Lavington.
Natalie had never liked her. Not fully. But she tolerated her. And Faith had grown to respect her. Fiercely.
"You ever feel like you're being used and you know it... but you're too deep to pull out?" Faith asked suddenly.
Natalie paused mid-sip. "Is this about a man or a job?"
Faith laughed. A little too bitterly.
"Both."
---
Two nights later, Luca sent flowers.
And an invitation to join him for a weekend in Zanzibar.
Paid flight. Private villa.
Faith stared at the message.
She knew what it was.
The next step in the leash tightening around her neck.
She also knew what would happen if she said no.
Markus would retaliate.
He'd freeze her accounts. Leak her secrets. Maybe worse.
But if she said yes?
She'd become property.
No different from the other women Markus had marked.
---
That evening, Amara called her.
"I need your help," she said. "I'm about to go public with the next episode. But I think someone's been monitoring my cloud."
Faith swallowed hard.
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
Silence.
"I'll look into it," Faith said.
And she meant it.
For the first time.
Not for Markus.
For Amara.
---
Back in her apartment, Faith drafted two emails.
One to Markus.
> "Thanks for introducing me to Luca. He's... interesting. I'll keep you updated."
The other, encrypted and unnamed, went to a secure journalist in Berlin.
> "If something happens to me, investigate Markus Adler. Start with his offshore accounts in Malta. Use the name Luca Romano as your breadcrumb."
She attached the first five pages of a document Amara had accidentally left open on her laptop. The rest, she'd send later.
She had crossed a line.
And she was terrified.
But for once, her fear felt clean.
Like freedom was near.
---
Markus read her message with a smirk.
He leaned back in his Vienna chair, sipping espresso.
"She'll obey. Luca always delivers."
But he had underestimated something.
Faith wasn't just being seduced.
She was awakening.
And the chains Markus wrapped in silk?
They were beginning to chafe.
And soon, she wouldn't wear them at all.