Chapter 69 — Smiles Beneath Shattered Glass
The party ended beautifully.
That was the cruelest part.
Because to every guest slowly leaving the Collins estate beneath glowing chandeliers and soft violin music—
Tonight had been elegant. Memorable. Prestigious.
Nobody saw the fractures hidden beneath the polished smiles.
Nobody noticed how conversations had become too careful.
Or how certain people kept watching one another when they thought nobody else noticed.
The final toast had already been made nearly thirty minutes ago.
Guests now drifted gradually toward the exit halls while attendants collected empty glasses and folded decorations with trained professionalism. Laughter still echoed occasionally across the grand ballroom.
But the warmth from earlier had vanished.
Replaced by something colder.
—
Near the door, Mrs. Collins maintained her graceful smile while bidding farewell to several elite guests.
"Thank you for attending."
"So lovely seeing your family again."
"We should arrange dinner soon."
Perfect composure.
Perfect elegance.
Only those closest to her noticed how exhausted her eyes looked whenever she briefly stopped smiling.
Beside her, Mr. Collins handled the businessmen and older family associates calmly, though his attention occasionally drifted toward the entrance doors.
Watching.
Searching.
For Abbas.
But the man had not returned inside yet.
And that worried him.
—
Farouq adjusted his suit jacket dramatically as another elderly woman pinched his cheek affectionately.
"You've grown so handsome!"
Farouq forced a charming smile.
"Thank you, aunty."
The woman walked away happily.
Immediately, his smile vanished.
"…I survived war for this one coz this na battlefield suffering. If not for Rihannat, I won't even come, Hiss. Reason why I hate all this parties."
Qazeem stood beside him, expression unreadable.
"You are still alive."
"Barely."
Farouq exhaled heavily before lowering his voice.
"Any updates?"
Qazeem's gaze shifted briefly toward the balcony upstairs.
"Basit is with her."
Farouq nodded once.
Good.
At least she wasn't alone.
Because after tonight—
Nobody knows what's next.
—
Upstairs, the balcony remained quiet beneath the cold night breeze.
Rihannat stood facing the city lights while Basit remained nearby.
Neither had spoken for several minutes now.
The silence felt strangely comforting.
Until Rihannat finally whispered—
"Do you think your father hates me now?"
Basit's head turned immediately.
"What?"
She swallowed softly.
"Because of all this happened....."
The vulnerability in her voice hurt him more.
Basit stepped closer slowly leaving a little distance between.
"My father doesn't hate you."
"But he looked at me differently."
"That's because he's trying to understand."
"He's angry because he feels betrayed. Not because of you."
Rihannat lowered her eyes quietly.
"And if he discovers something worse?"
That question lingered heavily between them.
Because neither of them truly wanted the answer.
Basit studied her carefully then.
She looked genuinely afraid.
Not of judgment.
Not of gossip.
But of the unknown itself.
As though her own life had suddenly become a locked room everyone else possessed keys to except her.
Basit spoke carefully.
"…Whatever this secret is, you shouldn't carry it alone."
Rihannat looked at him slowly.
Her expression almost broke completely.
But before she could answer—
A knock interrupted softly behind them.
Both turned.
Folakemi stood near the doorway.
Her face looked tense.
"Rihannat…"
Something immediately felt wrong.
Basit straightened.
"What happened?"
Folakemi hesitated first.
Which was answer enough.
"Your father is asking for everyone downstairs."
Rihannat frowned slightly.
"My father?"
"No." Folakemi's voice lowered carefully.
"…Mr. Abbas."
Silence.
Cold and Immediate.
Basit's jaw tightened instantly.
Because if his father was calling everyone together after the party had supposedly ended—
Then something had happened.
Something important.
—
Downstairs—
The ballroom had mostly emptied now.
Only close family and trusted associates remained.
The atmosphere no longer resembled celebration.
It resembled waiting.
Mr. Abbas stood near the center of the hall beside one of the long tables.
Still.
Silent.
Dangerously calm.
Mr. Mustopha stood several feet away from him.
Watching carefully.
The tension between both men had become impossible to ignore now.
Even Mrs. Collins looked uneasy.
Rihannat entered beside Basit and Folakemi.
The moment her eyes landed on Abbas—
Her heartbeat stuttered.
Because his expression had changed completely.
Earlier, he looked suspicious.
Now?
He looked certain.
Farouq immediately noticed too.
And unfortunately—
So did Segun.
Standing quietly near the back of the room.
Smiling again.
Like a man watching dry wood finally catch fire.
Basit stepped forward first.
"Dad?"
Abbas's eyes shifted toward his son briefly before settling on Rihannat.
Not harshly.
Not cruelly. slowly—
He lifted a phone onto the table.
Nobody spoke.
The room remained completely silent.
Abbas finally broke it.
"I asked a simple question outside."
His voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"And afterward… I made one phone call."
Mr. Mustopha's expression darkened instantly.
"Abbas—"
But Abbas ignored him completely.
His gaze never left Rihannat.
"Do you know what disturbs me most?"
Nobody answered.
"It is not the secrecy."
His voice lowered slightly.
"It is the pattern."
A chill crawled through the room.
Qazeem narrowed his eyes carefully.
Farouq stopped breathing.
And Basit's instincts immediately sharpened.
Because his father only sounded like this when he had already connected something dangerous.
Abbas continued quietly.
"The kidnapping."
Silence.
"The disappearance."
Another pause.
"The sudden protection."
His eyes darkened.
"And now… hidden identities."
Rihannat felt her stomach tighten painfully.
Mr. Mustopha stepped forward sharply.
"That is enough."
"No," Abbas replied coldly.
"It is not."
Then finally—
He picked up the phone again.
And turned the screen toward the room.
Rihannat's breath stopped.
So did Basit's.
Because displayed clearly on the screen—
Was an old photograph.
A much younger Mr. Mustopha.
Standing beside another man.
A man Rihannat recognized instantly despite the years.
Because she had seen his face before.
In old hidden pictures.
In forgotten fragments.
In nightmares her mother avoided discussing.
Her lips parted slowly.
"…No."
Mrs. Collins looked horrified.
Mr. Mustopha closed his eyes briefly.
And Abbas finally delivered the sentence that shattered the remaining peace inside the room completely.
"You knew her family long before this."
Dead silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed properly.
Then Abbas's gaze hardened further.
"And we all know" he said quietly,
"…the people who took her knew exactly who she was from the beginning."
"Who are the accomplices?" Are we sure of them?
"Or are they still planning another trap?"
" Are they still business partner?"
" Or.... someone is protecting whom?" He turned to look at Mr Mustopha.
The room exploded into chaos.
Voices.
Questions.
Shock.
Mrs. Collins immediately grabbed Rihannat before she lost balance completely.
Basit moved toward his father instantly.
Farouq cursed loudly somewhere behind them.
Folakemi looked seconds away from crying.
And through all the confusion—
Segun smiled wider in the shadows.
Because finally—
The first real crack had broken open.
And now?
The truth buried beneath years of silence had finally begun dragging itself into the light.
@OlukoyaZainab