Thulile was livid. Dalai spoke, but she didn't comprehend what he was saying.

Could it be possible?

Could Lars really transfer the contract to this man?

A month and a half had passed since Lars' departure. Thulile didn't have the time to cry. She tried to find a job and remembered how difficult it was to get hired when one didn't have references. Selling coffee in a food truck was considered a minor work experience. Thulile was a person without qualifications. The only jobs she could apply for and get hired for were those no one wanted. Hence, she found herself cleaning hotel rooms. The work was hard, but it was better than being out in the streets. Twelve to twenty rooms, Thulile had twenty minutes for each room. Dusting, scrubbing, hoovering, repeated gestures that allowed Thulile to push her heartbreak and deception to the back of her mind, but every night when she closed her eyes, she saw the blue-eyed fool.

How dare he leave without a word?

Didn't everything they shared make her eligible to at least have a farewell?

How she loathed him, perhaps even more than how she detested Elije. Stupefaction refused to leave her; Thulile kissed her teeth and snapped her fingers daily because of the man.

Then came the call. The voice at the end of the line was cold. All the man gave was a date and a meeting point. Now, he sat across from her. Both scrutinized each other from head to toe. It was Thulile who broke the gaze game first. Her eyes turned three hundred and sixty degrees to observe the hotel's lobby before returning her focus to the business mogul.

Dalai seemed serious. One could almost see the wavelengths of wealth oozing out of him. They had met before, but Thulile only had eyes for Lars back then, without forgetting that the night camouflaged many things on the rooftop.

There, Thulile got a glimpse of another handsome type. Dalai was born beautiful, and money came to drape him with elegance. His suit looked like it had just left the shop hanger. Even the red sole of his loafers didn't have a scratch. One could almost think he was carried to his seat when they looked at them.

What struck Thulile was his eyes. The chocolate color of his suit brought them out and enhanced their intensity. Feline-like, his stare was eager and determined. It was evident Dalai wasn't a man who took no for an answer.

Dalai leaned forward, "I'll be honest with you, Thulile. I'm a businessman. All I care about is the money I can make with this project. I know your coffee is fantastic. I'm also aware of that special ability of yours. It's the reason why I'm frank. Despite whatever you distill from me, I want you to know I can change your life. I obey my rules and principles. If you play along, I can take you to the summit."

Dalai didn't lie. Yes, he liked to please Serena, but his golden rule was him first. He only followed what Serena ordered concerning Thulile because he saw a benefit for himself.

The drinks Thulile made were one of a kind, and Dalai knew precisely how he would market them. Thulile was a modern-day sorceress. He wished to sell her coffee and teas not as drinks but as elixirs with guaranteed effects. People didn't buy good products; they brought concepts that made them dream of a miracle. With Thulile, he had the concept and certified benefits.

"What happens if I say no?"

She had to ask. Only a fool said yes and Amen without inquiring about the eventual inconveniences.

Dalai gave Thulile a full glimpse of his freshly whitened teeth with a huge grin, "You can't. You don't have the option if you refuse to work with me. I'll file a lawsuit for breach, and I doubt you have the means to survive that. You signed we're in this together for better and worse."

Dalai's stare didn't budge from Thulile's face. She looked like a blistered animal, afraid and confused.

Why did Serena want to destroy her so badly? Thulile was defenceless.

Crushing the weak wasn't one of Dalai's primary pleasures. He preferred toying with people of his caliber or naive golden spoon-born idiots like Lars. Dalai loved mind games and a good challenge. The man got none of that with Thulile.

"Don't you have someone you'd like to crush? Someone who hurt you profoundly."

Thulile raised a brow. What was this man trying to say?

Dalai leaned back and linked his hands, "Only money can offer one sweet revenge, and I can offer you that opportunity. Make money, Thulile. Nothing or no one will resist you if you have that."

No coffee was needed to read Dalai's mind. He was twisted and without a filter. The man didn't care about appearances, at least not with her.

Dalai sat up, "Think about it, Thulile; you'll be able to live somewhere else. Your brother could go to a good school, and your older brother could, I don't know," he shrugged, snapped his fingers, and leaned back as he said, "just disappear by magic."

If Lucifier walked the earth, he would resemble someone like Dalai. Thulile didn't wonder what else the man knew about her. The confidence he had hinted he was well aware of her precarity.

Everything Dalai said was right; she was hurt and wished to haunt everyone who ever disrespected her. What Elije, Lars, and her brother did was disrespect her. They trampled her pride and spat on her feelings.

Men were dogs, and Dalai was a kingpin among them. Yet there, he resembled the genie in the lamp as he attempted to tempt her. All Thulile had to do was rub him the right way to obtain whatever she wanted.

"I don't trust you."

"As you should," Dalai replied.

Thulile couldn't guess how her words satisfied the man's ego and reassured him, "Don't trust me. Let's- how can I say this?-Take advantage of one another. Though you have no options, I'll give you time to let things sink in. I'm not in a particular rush," Dalai got up," order anything you like. It's on the house. This hotel is mine. My driver will take you anywhere you want."With these words, Dalai left.

Former Thulile would have hurried to leave, embarrassed even to breathe in such a luxurious space, but Thulile did what Dalai suggested there. She ordered all the dishes she thought her gran and brother would eat. She then asked them to put everything in doggy bags and had Dalai's driver deliver the dishes while she tried to figure out what to do.

Dalai was a master manipulator. He knew her weakness, and he held her. If she refused, she was back in her hell hole. If she accepted his offer, Dalai would finish by scamming her, but she would reap a few benefits beforehand, at least she hoped.

Two hours later, Thulile sat around a different table to hear the same thing.

"Say something, Juilan," Nandi prompted.

"It's legal, everything is legal. There's no change for you, Thulile, except that he owns the brand entirely."

"You said it didn't change anything. It wasn't the deal I had with Lars. We're were partners."

"You still are. This guy has bigger shares, and if you leave, he can continue to exploit Rebel Grain. You'll never be able to create another brand with this name on South African soil."

"What can I do?" Thulile asked.

"Nothing."

Thulile didn't want to see Julian. He was part of the dog pound, but he was the only person who could explain all the legal jargon in the contract.

"Okay, thank you," Thulile got up to leave. Nandi followed. "Thili, babe, wait, you didn't even thank him."

"I'm not in the mood."

"You're right. Juli doesn't deserve any compassion. What are you going to do?"

"What should I do, Nanda? These men, all these men. Use us as pets. If they are not grooming us, they are walking us in their labyrinth or beating us. How can we win?"

"Sista, there's no right answer. The only thing we can do is use them like they use us. You see me, most men are just walking bank accounts in my mind."

Thulile wiped off the tears, "I feel so pitiful and stupid. I'm just so dumb. I can fix people's lives with what I see, and I can't even see the step before me."

"You are not dumb. You are smart and kind-hearted, and I believe something good will happen to you."

Nandi felt terrible; she regretted prompting Thulile to fall for Lars. Despite what she said, she believed in love and trusted Lars to offer her friend a happy ending. He deceived her like many men, reinforcing the idea that none were suitable.

"It's a start; you might not see it now, but something good will happen soon. I can feel it."

Nandi prayed the future wouldn't call her out as a liar. Thulile needed a miracle, something that could redirect her destiny. Someone like her couldn't be bound to a life of misery. No, Nandi refused to believe Thulie's existence was a sequence of misfortune.

In Stockholm, Lars was at a dead end. He was at the point where he sought coffee shops, cafés, and restaurants reputed for their cacao beverages on the internet. He would then drive miles only to be disappointed. Everything was tasteless. Nothing he drank quenched his thirst, but above all, the man couldn't sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her stare. What kind of magic did she use?

Lars mistook guilt for some for a magic trick that had him bewitched. He deleted his TikTok and any social app that could have Thulile's amapiano moves on his feed. Her hips and waistline made frustration mount. He craved to hear her voice, hold her, and see her dark, slitted assassin stare when she was mad.

Lars felt alive by her side.

Why did he run?

Couldn't he find another solution?

Chained by fear, Lars sought no options. Running seemed the best thing to do back then, and now it seemed so childish and futile, especially when what he ran from came knocking on his door.