The Retribution Chronicles

A d e | t w e n t y - s e v e n

"Let me get this straight." Daniel leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. "Miriam was paid to date you?"

"Yep."

"As in paid, paid?" he asked. "Like actual money?"

"Yes." Ade may have laughed, but his stomach clenched tight and roiled. "She's like a fucking femme fatale or some shit," he explained.

"Wow." Daniel fell into the sofa cushions. "Who do you think paid her?" he asked.

Ade's stomach twisted harder. It was a good question. One, up until this point, he refused to consider. What good was it knowing who hated him enough to send a glorified hound? Then again, what good was it not knowing?

Daniel's phone rang on the coffee table, a picture of Abi's smiling face filling the screen. He glanced at it for a moment too long then leaned forward and turned it over, hiding her from view. "What?" he asked when Ade quirked a brow. "I'll call her later."

But Ade knew Daniel. He was loyal; it was one of the reasons they'd grown so close. Ade liked knowing he could trust Daniel with his life. Liked knowing that when shit hit the proverbial fan there was always someone there to help him clean it up. That being said, Daniel's loyalty knew no bounds. Which would've been fine if not for the fact Ade knew Daniel would blow up his whole life for him.

"Don't blame Abi," Ade said. "She's not responsible for Miriam's fucked up plans."

"But she knew," Daniel said, mouth curling in disgust.

"We don't know that."

"If fucking Hilary, who doesn't even know Miriam, knew what she was about then I have no doubt in my mind that Abi knew. And she could've told you, she had every opportunity to, but instead she kept Miriam's secrets."

Despite Ade's very strong aversion to Abi, he found himself shaking his head. "You'd do the same for me," he pointed out.

Daniel sagged. "Maybe, but she still lied to—"

"She didn't lie," Ade laughed, "she omitted."

"That's the same thing."

"It's not. If it were then you lied to Abi the moment you met—"

"I did not." Daniel was halfway standing, brows furrowed.

Ade raised a hand. "You didn't tell her about Funmi," he said. "By your own logic, that's lying."

Daniel sagged all over again.

"All I'm saying," Ade said with a careless shrug, "is that I don't blame Abi so you shouldn't either. This whole thing is between me and Miriam anyway."

With a sigh, Daniel heaved off the sofa and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He disappeared into the hallway, his resigned hello floating back to Ade. Knowing Daniel, he'd be a little off for about two hours before forgetting why he was ever mad in the first place.

With him gone, Ade returned to the question of who put Miriam up to this. Grace seemed like the obvious culprit, but if there was one thing Ade knew about her, it was that she was all bark and no bite. After all she'd slurped up his half-hearted apology like it was some kind of rare delicacy—which, in hindsight, it may just have been. Still, Grace didn't have it in her. Ade widened his search, thinking about all the girls he'd been with in the past two months. Grace aside, most had been one night stands, quick and dirty the way Ade liked it. But then there was Lydia.

It was like a lightbulb went off, flashing in bright red tones while Ade hurried to his room. He pulled on the pair of jeans strewn across the floor and shrugged on his favourite black hoodie, stopping by Daniel's room to tell him he'd be back in an hour.