Chapter Seventeen: The Man Who Vanished

I barely remembered how I drove home that evening while the video kept replaying in my mind.

Andrew's face.,his voice. The man I had called my brother discussing my death as though my life meant nothing.

When I got home, Bukunmi immediately sensed something was wrong, She met me at the entrance.

"Clement... what happened?"

Without saying a word, I handed her the phone.

"Watch it."

She looked at me with concern before pressing the play button.

Barely thirty seconds into the recording, her expression changed. By the time the video ended, tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

She looked at me as though hoping I would tell her it was fake.

"It can't be..."

"It is," I replied quietly.

She covered her mouth.

"Andrew?"

I nodded.

"I warned you."

"I know."

"Your mother warned you too."

"I know."

She burst into tears.

"I never imagined he and his wife could be this wicked."

Neither had I.

For several minutes, we sat in silence.

The weight of betrayal was almost unbearable.

Finally, I spoke.

"I have to disappear."

She looked up immediately.

"What?"

"If I remain in Abuja, they'll keep coming until they succeed."

She grabbed my hand.

"Then we'll all leave."

I gently shook my head.

"No."

"Clement..."

"They're after me, not you."

"What if they come after us too?"

"They believe killing me gives them everything."

I held both of her hands.

"If all of us disappear at once, they'll become suspicious."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears.

"You want to leave us?"

"Only for a while."

She shook her head repeatedly.

"I can't."

"You have to."

"What will I tell the girls?"

I looked toward the staircase where our daughters were sleeping peacefully. The thought of leaving them nearly broke me.

"You'll tell them Daddy had to travel for work."

"And when the time comes..."

She understood before I finished.

"The world must believe you're dead."

I nodded slowly.

"It is the only way."

She buried her face in my chest and cried.

I held her tightly, praying it wouldn't be the last time.

Later that night, I called the only other person who needed to know the truth.

My adopted mother.

When she answered, I struggled to speak.

"Mum..."

The fear in my voice immediately alarmed her.

"What is it, my son?"

"It's Andrew."

Silence.

Then, in a voice heavy with sorrow, she said,

"I prayed every day that I was wrong."

"Mum I.............."

After explaining everything, she remained quiet for several moments.

Finally, she spoke firmly.

"You must stay alive."

"I will."

"I'll protect Bukunmi and the children."

I closed my eyes.

"Thank you, Mum."

"No."

She paused.

"Thank God that your kindness came back to save you."

Before ending the call, we agreed on a painful plan.

I would vanish.

The public would believe I had died.

Only three people would know the truth.

My adopted mother.

Bukunmi.

And the young man who had risked his own life to warn me.

Just before dawn, wearing ordinary clothes and carrying a single travel bag, I quietly left my house through a service gate.

No security convoy. No luxury vehicles. No bodyguards.

A trusted driver dropped me at a remote airstrip outside Abuja, where arrangements had already been made for me to disappear without attracting attention.

As the aircraft lifted into the morning sky, I looked down at the city I loved.

For the first time in my life...

I was running for my life.

The following afternoon, heartbreaking news spread across the country.

" Businessman and billionaire investor, Olaoshebikan Clement Enitan, is feared dead after mysterious circumstances surrounding his death. 

Prominent Authorities have launched an investigation while family members await further developments."

Television stations interrupted their programmes. Radio presenters discussed the tragedy. Social media exploded with tributes.

Within hours...

The nation had accepted one heartbreaking conclusion.

CEO was gone.

At my Abuja residence, grief hung over the mansion like a dark cloud.

Business associates. Government officialsEmployees.

Neighbours. Friends. Everyone came to mourn.

My adopted mother sat quietly in the living room, surrounded by sympathizers.

Though she knew I was alive, the pain on her face needed no acting.

She had watched me grow from a homeless orphan into a successful man.

Pretending to lose me felt painfully real.

Upstairs, Bukunmi struggled to remain strong.

Tolulope Praise sat beside her, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Mummy..."

"When is Daddy coming back?"

Bukunmi's heart shattered.

She hugged her daughter tightly.

"Daddy is gone, my princess."

Toluwani Blessing cried uncontrollably.

"I want Daddy."

"I miss Daddy."

Hearing my daughters cry from the news reports I watched in hiding was more painful than any bullet could have been.

That afternoon, another vehicle entered the compound.

Andrew, Chinelo, and their son, Ethan.

The moment Andrew entered the house, he embraced my adopted mother.

"Mummy..."

"I'm so sorry."

She looked into his eyes.

For a brief second, she remembered every warning she had given me as a child.

Then she simply nodded.

"Thank you for coming."

Andrew walked over to Bukunmi.

He embraced her gently.

"Clement was more than a friend."

"He was my brother."

Bukunmi closed her eyes.

Every comforting word from him felt like poison.

Yet she forced herself to cry.

She had to protect the secret.

The twins ran toward Andrew.

"Uncle Andrew..."

Tolulope cried.

"Please bring Daddy back."

Andrew knelt and hugged both girls.

He struggled to speak.

If there was guilt in his heart... He hid it well.

As relatives began discussing funeral arrangements, Andrew quietly joined the conversation.

No one suspected that the man helping to organize my burial... Believed he had succeeded in arranging my death.

Hundreds of kilometres away, I sat alone in a small, unfamiliar room.

The television showed my photograph beside a bold headline.

"NIGERIA MOURNS BILLIONAIRE BUSINESS ICON."

For the first time in my life... I watched the world mourn a man who was still breathing.

And I made myself a promise.

I would remain dead... Until the day I returned to expose the devil I had once called my friend.