Chapter 1 - The Woman at My Door
"YOU WERE PAID TO KILL MY NIECE, AND NOW YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER?"
"IF YOU THINK I'M FORCING NANGO TO STAY WITH ME, ASK HER YOURSELF. BUT BEFORE YOU ACCUSE ME OF ANYTHING, ASK HER MOTHER WHY SHE HIRED ME!"
"BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY NEXT, YOUNG MAN. BECAUSE I KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THAT CONTRACT THAT COULD DESTROY BOTH OF YOU!"
Aunt Zanele's voice cut through my living room like a blade.
My girlfriend, Nango, stood beside the doorway, looking as though she regretted inviting this woman into our home.
I didn't blame her.
I'd faced dangerous men, survived situations that should have killed me, and spent years making decisions that haunted my sleep.
But nothing had prepared me for the morning when the woman I loved brought her mother's closest friend to interrogate the man who had once been hired to murder her.
And the worst part?
The person responsible for everything was Nango's own mother.
My name is Sibusiso Maseko, although everyone calls me Sbu.
For years, I made my living doing things decent people couldn't imagine.
I wasn't proud of that life.
In fact, I'd spent the past several months trying desperately to leave it behind.
Then I met Nango Ntshangase.
Or, more accurately, I was sent to kill her.
What happened afterward changed everything.
That morning had begun so differently.
Sunlight spilled through our bedroom curtains as Nango slept peacefully beside me.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"Good morning, MaNtshangase."
She opened one eye and smiled.
"Morning, babe."
I kissed her forehead.
"Planning to sleep all day?"
"After the night we had? Absolutely."
I laughed.
There was something extraordinary about waking up beside a woman who knew the worst things about me and still believed I could become someone better.
I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone.
And I wasn't afraid to say it.
"There's never going to be another woman for me," I whispered.
She traced her fingers along my jaw.
"You already told me that."
"I'll keep telling you."
She smiled and rested her head against my shoulder.
For a while, the world outside our bedroom didn't exist.
There were no enemies.
No threats.
No family arguments.
Just the two of us.
Eventually, we began discussing her schedule.
Nango worked in interior design and property renovation.
She had a meeting with a contractor at a house in Umhlanga, where she needed to approve changes to the ceiling and lighting layouts.
Afterward, she planned to visit Sobethu and speak with Vukani, who helped manage the community housing trust established by her late father.
Everything sounded ordinary.
Until Nango suddenly lifted her head.
"Oh, no."
"What?"
"I forgot to tell you something."
I studied her expression.
"That doesn't sound good."
"Aunt Zanele is coming over today."
"Who?"
"My mother's best friend."
I stared at her.
"And why exactly is your mother's best friend coming here?"
"Because she wants to meet you."
I waited.
Nango avoided my eyes.
"There's something else."
"Of course there is."
"She thinks you're blackmailing me into being with you because you spared my life."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I laughed without any humor.
"So now I have to prove to another member of your family that I'm not holding you hostage?"
"She loves me, Sbu."
"Your mother claims to love you too."
That silenced her.
We both knew why.
Six months earlier, Nango's mother, Nomusa Ntshangase, had arranged the contract that brought me into her daughter's life.
She had given me money to make Nango disappear.
Nango had discovered the truth afterward.
The betrayal nearly destroyed her.
Somehow, despite everything, we had built a relationship out of the wreckage.
But her mother still blamed me whenever she found an opportunity.
And now another woman was coming to question my intentions.
By eight thirty, I was dressed in a neatly ironed shirt and dark trousers.
Goba, my longtime friend and housemate, emerged from his bedroom with his phone pressed against his ear.
"No, I'm telling you, I have a serious situation here," he said dramatically.
He listened for a moment.
"Oh, he'll die if I don't come? Fine. I'll be there."
He ended the call.
I narrowed my eyes.
"I didn't hear your phone ring."
Goba froze.
"My client is having an emergency."
"Your client?"
"A very serious emergency."
"You don't want to meet Aunt Zanele."
He looked offended.
"Why would I be afraid of one woman?"
I simply stared at him.
He grabbed his keys.
"Anyway, I have to go."
As he hurried toward the door, he squeezed my shoulder.
"Stand your ground, brother."
Then he disappeared.
Coward.
I'd already decided that Mdu would replace him as my future best man.
At approximately nine, Nango's phone rang.
"She's outside," she said.
My stomach tightened.
I went upstairs to gather myself.
I had promised Nango I wouldn't let my old instincts control me.
Whatever Aunt Zanele said, I would remain calm.
I would listen.
I would tell the truth.
Then I heard high heels clicking against the floor downstairs.
A woman's voice followed.
"Where is he?"
I descended the staircase.
Aunt Zanele stood in the center of my living room.
She was elegantly dressed, with sharp eyes and the unmistakable confidence of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
Her gaze settled on me.
"So," she said quietly. "You're Sibusiso."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you know why I'm here?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
She stepped closer.
"Then let's stop pretending."
Nango moved beside me.
"Auntie, please."
Zanele ignored her.
"Your mother told me this man used your life to gain control over you."
I looked directly at her.
"That's a lie."
"Then tell me why a hired killer would suddenly decide to fall in love with his target."
"Because I made a choice I should have made years ago."
She studied my face.
For a moment, I thought she might believe me.
Instead, she opened her handbag.
She removed a photograph and placed it on the coffee table.
It showed Nango leaving the Sobethu office.
The photograph had been taken recently.
I recognized the clothes she had worn two days earlier.
"Where did you get this?" I demanded.
"Someone delivered it to my house yesterday."
Nango picked it up.
Her fingers trembled.
"Auntie?"
Zanele turned the photograph over.
Four words had been written across the back.
NEXT TIME, SHE DIES.
And beneath those words was a symbol I recognized from the criminal organization I had sworn never to work for again.
May you like
Someone had reopened the contract.
And Nango was still the target.
