Chapter 90
The Grim Reaper Awakens
Segun drove out of the university gates, Bayo's words echoing relentlessly in his mind.
You're getting too emotionally attached.
He scoffed.
Impossible.
How could he?
Bayo was imagining things.
Yet, despite his denial, an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Why was he thinking about it?
Why did the words bother him?
Why did the mere idea of Rihannat being in danger make his pulse quicken?
Suddenly, he swerved and pulled over to the side of the road.
The cars behind him blared their horns furiously.
One driver even leaned out of his window and shouted insults.
Segun heard none of it.
His thoughts were in complete disarray.
Without warning, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
And again.
The force split the skin over his knuckles.
Blood smeared across the leather.
Still, he didn't stop.
Finally, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Silence.
A long, suffocating silence.
When he opened them again, his expression had changed.
His features were calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm that usually came before a storm.
He reached for his phone and dialed Bayo.
The call was answered on the first ring.
"Boss?"
"Prepare the boys."
His voice was mechanical.
Cold.
"We're moving tonight."
A pause.
"I want Rihannat—"
Bayo sighed.
He knew that tone.
The switch had flipped.
Every trace of emotion had been sealed away.
The Grim Reaper had surfaced.
He should have kept his mouth shut earlier.
Bayo understood Segun better than most people.
The man could feel his growing attachment toward Rihannat.
But accepting it?
That was another matter entirely.
Segun would rather wage war against himself than admit it.
So Bayo interrupted him.
"Dark Angels are making a move tonight."
Silence.
"They've allied themselves with Rayyan's ex-husband."
Another pause.
"They're planning to upload fake nude pictures of the girls on the school forum tomorrow morning."
Nothing.
"They want to throw them into chaos and panic before making their next move."
The line went completely silent.
For a terrifying moment, Bayo thought the call had disconnected.
Then Segun's voice came.
Low.
So low that the evening breeze nearly swallowed it.
"Whose pictures?"
Bayo's grip on the phone tightened.
That voice…
It frightened him.
"Rihannat, Rayyan, and Balkis."
He swallowed.
"The others aren't included."
A soft chuckle echoed through the line.
There was no humor in it.
"So they don't dare touch the affluent."
Another chuckle.
"They won't provoke the heirs of conglomerates."
Silence.
"But they'll target girls who are quietly trying to build their lives in this dog-eat-dog world."
His tone remained soft.
Almost gentle.
That frightened Bayo even more.
Because he had seen this version of Segun before.
The quieter he became, the more dangerous he was.
It meant his mind was already working.
Calculating.
Closing every escape route.
Building a net around his enemies.
The Grim Reaper was hunting.
And now he had a reason.
"Send me everything."
Bayo straightened.
"Their plans."
"The operation route."
"The names."
A pause.
"I'd like to meet these Angels personally."
Bayo shivered.
Then came the final instruction.
"And intercept those pictures."
His voice turned colder.
"I don't want to see a single image online."
"You know the consequences."
"Yes, sir."
The call ended.
Bayo lowered the phone slowly.
He suddenly pitied the Dark Angels.
Segun had been looking for an outlet for his anger.
And now…
They had practically delivered themselves to him on a platter of iron, not gold.
What a pity.
Inside his car, Segun leaned back against his seat.
A faint smile played on his lips.
Yet his eyes remained cold.
Dark.
As though two different personalities were waging war within him.
One wanted to walk away.
The other wanted blood.
"Let's give them a taste of their own medicine."
He picked up another phone and typed a message.
Get four capable men ready for further instructions. Bring cameras along. Don't move until I order.
He hit send.
Then he started the engine.
The Collins Mansion
The atmosphere inside the Collins residence was tense.
Seifullah sat with his parents in the family study.
A report had arrived the previous night.
Its contents had instantly darkened everyone's mood.
Detailed information.
Names.
Screenshots.
Plans.
The Dark Angels intended to create a scandal involving Rihannat and her friends.
False, compromising photographs.
Public humiliation.
Character assassination.
A scheme that could permanently stain their reputations.
The room had grown cold after reading it.
Seifullah's expression was hard.
Mr. and Mrs. Collins looked equally disturbed.
The previous evening, Seifullah had been speaking with Rayyan on the phone.
Just as he had promised, he had called to check on her.
After days of persistence, she had finally trusted him enough to tell him the truth about her marriage.
He had listened quietly.
By the end of the conversation, his heart ached for her.
Anger.
Sympathy.
Heartbreak.
All at once.
Since then, he had made it his mission to check on her every evening.
Not to pressure her.
Not to force himself into her life.
But to be present.
To let her know she wasn't alone.
He only hoped that one day she would heal enough to open her heart again.
It was during that call that a message arrived on his second phone.
He checked it.
And his blood boiled.
Most people still didn't know that Rihannat was the treasured daughter of the Collins family.
One of the legitimate heirs to the family that had helped establish the university.
To the public, she remained the adopted daughter of the Mustophas.
At her own request, her identity had been kept secret.
She wanted a normal university life.
No paparazzi.
No headlines.
No special treatment.
And certainly no sudden increase in suitors now that people would view her as a wealthy heiress instead of merely a beautiful student.
She wanted peace.
And her parents had respected that decision.
Now…
Some girls wanted to destroy her life for their own amusement.
Mrs. Collins placed the report on the table.
"How dare they?"
Her voice trembled with anger.
"My precious daughter…"
She shook her head.
"Is this what schools have become?"
"How can people this young possess such wicked minds?"
Mr. Collins remained silent for several moments before speaking.
"They were already given another chance."
His expression hardened.
"Even after being expelled, they chose not to change."
"Instead of reflecting on their actions and becoming better, they became worse."
He sighed deeply.
"Their hearts have grown darker."
He looked at Seifullah.
"Submit all the evidence to the police."
No one objected.
"They must face the consequences of their actions."
His voice became firm.
"No leniency."
"If any of their parents come pleading, I don't care who they are."
"Turn them away."
Mrs. Collins nodded.
"Enough is enough."
Mr. Collins looked at the file one last time.
"We cannot allow people like this to continue harming others."
Then his expression softened slightly.
"Finish this before her parents return from their vacation."
He was referring to the Mustophas.
"We don't want them panicking or doubting their daughter's safety."
Seifullah nodded.
"I'll handle it."
Even a new house was ready for them to move into when they returned. It was the least they could do for the kind people who loved their daughter and had trained her so well.
Their prayer now was that the Mustophas would accept it, because even before they left for their holiday in Europe, Rihannat had begged them to go. They had refused. The Collinses were stubborn too.
Rihannat had also told them she would continue staying with them until she graduated, so they decided to get them a building closer to them. Just the next street.
Safe. Closer. A serene environment. Good for retirement.
He looked at the report again.
His jaw tightened.
Whoever wanted to hurt Rihannat had made a terrible mistake.
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