Roxanne.

It wasn't a red light she put on but a match she lit and threw. The fire blazed in Lars' mind.

Lars knew his life was a melting pot of bad decisions, but he hit the jackpot there. He who imagined going back to Sweden proud and rich saw his dream shattered.

"What are you going to do?" Steven asked after having accompanied Roxanne to the door.

"I'll pay her off. All she wants is money, and she probably did some background checks on me with the elements she stole."

"Lars, seriously, she doesn't seem to be playing for money."

"Steven, wake up. She's lying; don't you see she's a con? Did she look pregnant to you?"

Steven took a few seconds to recall Roxannes' appearance before saying, "no, but not all women blow up. It depends on what phase she's on and her overall morphology. If what she says is true, she's in the first trimester. Pregnancies are undetectable at that stage."

Lars cocked a brow, "you seem to know a lot?"

"Documentaries help me fall asleep."

In other circumstances, Lars would have laughed at his friend's habit, but Steven's notions become expertise for Lars at that instant, "so you think she could be telling the truth?"

Steven shook his head, "I don't know."

It was for these occasions that the man took his prescriptions. It took a while, but the awaited panic attack occurred. Steven turned Lars' room inside out and came back without anything.

"Listen, Lars; I'll pop out and see what I can find for you. Just hang in there, buddy."

The man gasped for air though it was abundant. The sickening feeling of wanting to puke while being hot and bothered invaded him. His head spun. Lars crouched down to finally lay on the cold marble floor.

Images of his family came to mind; happy moments followed by sad times, arguments, fights, and words.

"Lars, how could you do this to your brother? It's his company. He trusted you."

"I didn't know. I didn't know it was a scheme, and they would launder the money."

Lars didn't lie; he didn't know. The man was as candid as a child despite his looks and behavior.

"Stay away from Rut."

His brother Ulrich had warned him.

"You'll always live in Jonas' shadow. You're nothing but his page boy. Do you honestly think I could be with someone like you?"

And Ulrich was right. Rut was a hazard.

"You're nothing without Jonas or us."

His oldest brother was harsh. What would Ulrich say if he saw him now?

In the meantime, Roxanne arrived at her next appointment.

"Yay, Foxy Roxy, it's been a while. Have a seat, my dear; how have you been," the man said while twirling on his desk chair.

"I've been busy preparing my retirement plan," Roxanne replied as she sat down.

"What?" Dalai exclaimed, "you retire? Let me laugh."

"What, you didn't think I'd be a con for life, did you?" The woman retorted.

"I know you, Roxanne. Tell me, who's the fool?"

The woman adjusted her position, "It isn't a sham. I'm pregnant, Dalai I can't carry on like this."

"Wow, wow, wow," Dalai slid his head back, "wait a minute, Roxanne. You're not the type to get knocked up?"

Roxanne was a professional. She sometimes went all the way to convince the men she was with, but she was always protected. Dalai couldn't believe Rut was pregnant. Thus, the businessman was persuaded that Roxanne did it on purpose and that the child was part of an evil ploy.

"What type of woman am I, Dalai? I, too, have a right to benefit from some TLC. I'm tired of this shit. It isn't fun anymore."

Dalai fixed her. Roxanne was probably one of the most dangerous women he knew. Queen of poker faces one never knew her thoughts. Lying was second nature, so perfect that all seemed valid.

She loved to toy with men. Not even thirty, the woman was already blasé by life. At the same time, Roxanne had already lived dozens of lives in one and profited from most luxuries. Her existence as a lie started way before she knew her capacity to make the fake become a reality. The woman saw her black heritage suppressed as society stamped her white. People and Roxanne forgot her mother was biracial. She passed for a white woman, but as her father loved to say, she had the black swindlers' bad blood. The lack of means made Africans immoral. Desire could make them sell the souls of their father and mother. Roxanne's father was sure her mother bewitched him, for he didn't see how or when he consented to have her. He forgot how drunken in love he was at her conception or how the woman got tired of visiting him in prison. Roxanne didn't wish for such a future for herself.

Lars was Roxannes' ticket out of a game she no longer found amusing.

"So, who is he?" The silence gave Dalai the time to reflect. The man leaned forward, "Oh, I get it. It's someone I know, isn't it?"

"Pff, you know the whole of Joburg," Roxanne scoffed.

Dalai leaned back, "poor guy, how much are you asking?"

"I'm not asking for anything, Dalai. I told you it isn't a scam. He's a nice ignorant, and innocent guy. The type that could accept someone like me."

Dalai flexed a brow, "you know you owe me, right?"

"Yes, and you'll have your money."

The deal they had was simple. Dalai financed Roxannes' jet-set lifestyle in exchange; she gathered the information for him and stole objects they sold to the highest bidders. Roxanne found herself in debt to seduce the rich; she needed to have even more richness. She traveled around Africa, where she caused havoc and mayhem in foyers. Blackmail, extortion, embezzlement, grand theft. The daughter of a con artist followed in daddy's footsteps. Roxanne made the dogs don't make cats saying a reality. Dalai was never far behind to watch her back and bail her out if necessary.

"Okay, Roxane, if you say so. Don't forget the interests."

Perhaps she would need Lars' money, after all, thought the woman as she left Dalai's office.

Dalai swung back on his chair and wondered who the infamous fool could be.

While Dalai pondered, Thulile kissed her teeth for the hundredth time in that hour. Her ringing phone made her jump.

"Hello."

"So?"

"So what?" Thulile asked.

"Ah, my baby, why do you do this to me? How did it go?"

Thulile sighed and kissed her teeth again," it went nowhere."

"What do you mean by it went nowhere?" Nandi asked.

"Lars didn't show up. He didn't even call."

"Did you call him?" Nandi asked.

"No, why should I do that? He's the one who should call to apologize for making wait and standing me up."

"Thulile, um, sista, something could have happened. Call the man. You know how dem Westerners be punctual. They call or send a text when they are running late, even for three minutes.

"Perhaps it's not a generality."

"Thulile, trust me, eighty, okay, seventy percent of them are like that against our measly thirty see twenty percent of our African brothers."

"If I call, he'll think I'm clinging onto him. I don't want Lars to have the impression he's someone essential for me."

"Wow, you've grown. I never thought I'd hear you say something like that someday."

"Well, I guess I'm not that sentimental anymore."

Thulile's words made Nandi sad. Elije groomed Thulile's mind for too long, making the fall more painful. Her friend was finally in that spot where the clock struck midnight, and she realized happy endings only occurred in fairytales.

Nandi had high hopes Lars would put a bandaid on Thulile's broken heart, but it seemed he came with a scalpal to slice it just a little more. Despite this, Nandi still believed in the man, people weren't perfect, and the woman decided Lars would be the flick's hero after she threw out Julian as the main.

"Thulile, I know you're not going to like what I say, but try giving him a call. Do it for me, please."

Nandi didn't need to pray, her friend Thulile spoke, but deep down, it was all she wanted to do. Thus, she kissed her teeth every time she felt her would wither, but now she had Nandi's approval, the woman resigned to do so as soon they hung up.

Thulile couldn't believe she was calling. She comforted herself by saying it was only to see if he was alive.

She didn't know what to think when her call got diverted to voicemail. Her mind immediately started to run laps. What if Nandi was right and something did happen to him?

A voice inside her told her to go to his place while her logic told her to stay put. In the name of what would she go there? She wasn't his girlfriend or kin; the man did not need to justify himself to her.

The woman went to sleep, and another day dawned for the protagonists, who didn't shut their eyes.

Thulile sat up with the intense attention of finding a job while Lars woke up with his plan. Joburg was full of surprises. Steven came back with the equivalent of what his doctor had prescribed. His thoughts were finally clear; Lars didn't waste time. He knew Roxanne would be back soon. Going to the police was no use. They had not proven their worth to Lars on his case or Thulilie's. The man already imagined the officers laughing at him. For them, he would be another tourist who came to get his thrills and got trapped as he should for his frivolous behavior.

Lars thought of leaving the country, but he knew the woman would pursue him. Thus, he decided to give her what she wanted before leaving the country.

He had seen and done what he wanted there. Lars was over his south African dream.

"Hey, Lars, my man," Dalai said and took off his shades as he got up to greet him.

"Hi, Dalai."

"Have a seat. I was so surprised when I got your call; It seemed urgent.

"Ah, yeah, sorry."

"No worries. Do you want a drink or something? You seem a little off track."

Lars scratched his head, "I didn't sleep well."

Dalai observed him. The Lars he knew was a show-off, always with his looks pimped up for seduction. There, the man looked lost; he didn't even dress up though they met in one of Joburg's high society hangouts.

"Let me order us some drinks, Dalai said and hollered a waiter.

"Okay, what is it?" Dalai asked once the waiter served.

"Listen, I'll cut the chase. I need money, a lot of money."

"What's a lot?"

"One million."

Dalai whistled, "one million in what? The Iranian rial, Vietnamese dong, Guinean franc?"

"In American dollars."

Lars had spent all night calculating. The man tried to put a price tag on the cost of the life he wished her to abort. He knew Roxanne would laugh if he came at her with a few thousand.

Lars didn't want to be the father of her baby, and he knew she wasn't a woman who should be a mother. Hence, he came to the following resolve; he had one point five million liquidity. Dalai's acceptance would bring him to a good two point five million. The man judged it should be enough to have the woman abort or give him time to leave the country.

In the eventuality, Roxanne decided to keep the child; the money would still be enough to raise it. Lars knew there was no way he could force her into having an abortion. The man naively thought he would gain peace of mind either way, but Lars forgot who he dealt with at that instant.

Dalai leaned forward, "I guess I can't ask you what it's for?"

"No."

Dalai leaned back and let a hand swing beside him; it was his gangster take. He sniffed and ran his fingers through his long hair before saying, "when will I have it back."

"I'll do my best to give you have before the end of the year."

"Lars, you know me, cash isn't interesting. How about you sell me a few of your shares of Moder Yoder? That way, you won't have to pay me back interest rates."

"No."

Lars didn't even need to reflect. He had already done enough damage to his family. Selling their shares to a third party was something they all promised they would never do. He was desperate but refused to make his family pay for his mistakes.

A quick thinker Dalai already passed to his subsequent demand, "how about you give me that project of yours."

Lars frowned, "project?"

"You know your coffee franchise."

"You mean Rebel Grained."

"Is that what you called it?" Dalai nodded, "Okay, sounds good. Yeah, Rebel Grained."

Lars stared straight into Dalai's eyes, he could see the man was serious, but he didn't know what his demand represented. It wasn't just the concept Dalai would acquire but Thulile.

He stood her up, she probably cursed him, and she would kill him after the decision he was about to make.

"In that case, make it two million."

Dalai smiled, "you're really my kind of person, Lars.

Hi friends,

Sorry for the delay. As most know, I wanted to finish New Growth after I fell sick. I'm recovering and writing.

Yes, I know Lars is one dumb guy. He's so dumb that I have to write a second book in order to try to rectify the mess he's making here!

Who thinks the money will be enough for Roxanne?

Who thinks she has bad intentions?

For me, Dalai is the all-category mashup winner if you don't see why you'll understand in the next chapter.

Take care!