Weeks had passed since the incident at Victor's crèche, but the memory had clung to Anwana like a shadow.
The nanny's worried voice on the phone, the man who had inexplicably taken a blood sample-it had all fueled a constant, low-grade anxiety.
Tade, ever the protector, had acted swiftly, ordering his security team to tighten the guard around the boy, assuring her that nothing would happen to him.
"Don't worry, nothing will happen to him," he had said, but his own worried eyes had told a different story.
Anwana had tried to believe him, nodding slowly, forcing the terror to subside.
It was a week later when the storm finally broke. A courier, a man whose face was a blank slate, appeared at Tade's office door. He handed a single, nondescript brown envelope to Tade's assistant before vanishing down the hallway with a practiced speed that left no room for questions.
Tade got the envelope.
He opened it, tearing the paper with an impatient rip.
A small, folded note fell out onto his desk. He bent to pick it up, his brow furrowed in confusion. He opened it slowly.
"Just brace yourself. I'm coming for you."
Tade's heart hammered against his ribs.
The message was anonymous, chilling, and unsettling. He raced out of his office, but the hallway was empty.
He returned, the adrenaline coursing through him, and tore the rest of the envelope apart.
A white paper appeared, stark against the dark wood of his desk.
He read the heading: "DNA Report."
What DNA is this? he thought, his mind racing. Why would someone send me a DNA result? Was this a mistake? He read on, his gaze scanning the page for a name, a clue, anything. His eyes found the words at the bottom.
"Braze yourself Mr. Tade, I'll tear your little family apart. Victor is the first."
Tade felt the blood drain from his face. His hands, gripping the report, began to tremble. Victor? How could they know about Victor? He turned the report over, his heart hammering so fast it felt like it would burst through his chest.
Result: 99.9%
A mix of overwhelming shock and a joyous, terrifying revelation crashed over him.
What?! he screamed, though no sound escaped his lips. Victor, the boy he had loved and protected, was his son. The thought should have brought unbridled happiness, but it was overshadowed by a primal fear. Who could have known about this before me? How did they get his blood sample?
He remembered the incident a week ago, the nanny's frantic call. The fear turned to a cold, burning rage.
He punched the elevator button with a force that made his knuckle white, not caring about the top floor, not caring about his office.
He punched the ground floor button and walked in a single, focused line toward the company kitchen.
The Head Chef, Kunle, saw him coming and quickly approached. "Can I see the Assistant?" Tade demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
"Of course, sir," Kunle said, his body tensing with fear.
"I hope there's no problem?"
The look on Tade's face, the pallor and the wildness in his eyes, was enough to send a shiver down his spine.
Anwana, seeing Tade from her station, took off her apron and rinsed her hands, a knot of worry forming in her stomach. She headed toward him, her footsteps tentative.
"Tade, what's wrong? You look pale. Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch him.
He didn't respond to her, his gaze locked on hers, a world of chaos and fear in his eyes. He simply handed the report to her.
Her eyes scanned the page, her hand flying to her mouth in a silent gasp.
The results-the percentage-registered instantly, but they were a footnote to the terrifying threat.
Her mind didn't linger on the joyous, impossible truth that Tade was Victor's father.
Her mind went straight to the last line of the note.
"Tade... Vic... tor," she cried out in fear, the name a strangled sound in her throat.
Without another word, they moved as one, hurrying out of the building to the garage, then speeding off toward Victor's school.
The silence in the car was a living thing, a suffocating shroud woven from fear and unspoken panic. Anwana had left her phone at work, and the inability to call the nanny or the school was a cruel torture.
Every second felt like an eternity.
The car screeched to a halt outside the crèche, a place of bright colors and happy children now consumed by chaos.
The air was filled with the frantic wails of parents and the high-pitched cries of children.
The scene was pure pandemonium. The school was surrounded by police cars and a swelling crowd of anxious parents.
Tade and Anwana ran, their hearts in their throats, their shared fear a tangible weight between them.
They pushed through the crowd, their eyes desperately scanning for a small, familiar face. They found the nanny, her face tear-streaked and horrified, clutching the school's security guard's arm.
"What's going on?! Where's my son?!" Anwana screamed, her voice breaking.
The nanny looked up, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. "Ma... ma..." she sobbed, unable to get the words out.
Tade grabbed the security guard's collar, his rage boiling over. "Where is he?! Where's Victor?!"
The guard, trembling, managed to say,
"He's gone, sir... He's gone."
Anwana's world shattered.
A piercing, soul-deep cry ripped from her throat. She fell to her knees, the pavement cold against her skin, her hands shaking as she buried her face in them. Tade, seeing her crumble, felt a new wave of fury.
He turned on the two bodyguards he had hired, his fists clenched, his face a mask of furious betrayal.
"You were supposed to protect him! Where were you?!"
His shouts were a guttural roar of despair. He knew this was the day. The day he had found out he was a father, was the same day his son was stolen from him. The bitter irony of it all was a knife twisting in his gut.
Tade, his voice raw with fury, pulled out his phone and made a single, desperate call. "Mum, they have Victor."
The line was silent for a beat, and then Remi's voice, usually so poised, was a panicked whisper. "What?! Who has Victor?"
"Mum, listen to me," Tade said, his voice a frantic command. "I just found out. There's a DNA report... he's my son. They took him from school. The report came with a threat. They said they're coming for us!"
Remi's gasp was sharp, a sound of profound shock and a mother's immediate terror.
"What?! A DNA... Tade, where are you?" she asked, her voice now hard as steel. "I don't care about the details right now. Just tell me where you are."
"At the school, Ikorodu , Daylight Elementary" he said, his voice trembling.
"Stay there. I'm coming with my men. Do not move from that spot. Do you hear me?"
Minutes later, a convoy of black SUVs pulled up to the crèche. Remi Adebanjo emerged, her face a mask of determination. With her were her personal security detail and a contingent of high-ranking police officers.
She walked straight to Tade, who was standing over a sobbing Anwana, his body still rigid with rage.
"Tade, calm down!" she commanded, her voice firm, "Your anger won't help us."
She knelt beside Anwana, pulling her into a tight embrace. "My dear, we will find him. We will find him." Then, she rose, turning to her men.
"Use every resource we have. Find out who has him. I want my grandson back, and I want them to pay."
As the police and security teams swarmed the area, searching for clues, Anwana clung to Tade, her sobs a quiet, desperate sound.
The silence between them was gone, replaced by a shared, deafening grief.
They had finally f
ound their family, only for it to be ripped away in a single, devastating moment. The war had just begun.