<h4>Chapter 84: The ck Revenger</h4>
Eleanor finally understood what the head of the Bultungin n meant in his philosophical monologue about "time." His words weren’t just wisdom... he had urged her to seize the opportunity before her, to act decisively before it slipped away. Otherwise, she might live to regret her inaction in old age.
Understanding his true message, Eleanor chuckled inwardly. "What an interesting old man. All those poetic lines... just to get me to ept his deal."
Ooduwa seemed pleased with the agreement they had reached. "You’vee a long way," he said, his voice warm. "I’ve prepared some light refreshments in the garden. Let’s continue our conversation there."
"Of course," Eleanor replied politely, following him through the pce.
As they walked, Ooduwa pointed out various works of art that lined the corridor... his personal collection of priceless paintings. Eleanor suddenly remembered the gift she had brought for him.
She raised her voice slightly, "Bring the gift I prepared to the garden."
Ooduwa didn’t question whom she had addressed. His intuition, honed by years of leadership, told him exactly what she meant.
The pce garden was a breathtaking sight. An intricately designedndscape filled with blossoming flowers and exotic greenery greeted her. A light breeze rustled the leaves, adding a calming melody to the ambiance. Eleanor took a deep breath, instantly soothed by the peaceful surroundings.
Ooduwa led her to a small round table shaded beneath a flowering tree. A silver tray bore a beautiful array of freshly cut tropical fruits and delicate pastries, along with bottles of fresh beverages.
"Please," Ooduwa gestured toward the food, "help yourself."
Just then, Sebastian walked to them and handed Eleanor a rectangr, ornately carved box. Without a word, he bowed and retreated again.
Eleanor offered the box with both hands. "This is for you."
Ooduwa opened the lid, and for the first time, a smile spread across his face. "A 1945 Domaine de Romanée-Conti," he read aloud, his voice tinged with genuine delight. "A very rare and thoughtful gift. Thank you."
"You’re wee," she replied with a nod.
cing the bottle back inside the box, Ooduwa rested it carefully on the table and picked up a few slices of mango. "You already know Edem. He’s in charge of our Nigerian business operations. You can coordinate your ventures through him. He’s efficient and loyal."
"Thank you for the arrangement," Eleanor replied. "My representative willnd in Abuja tomorrow. They will get in touch with Mr. Edem Kacha. I believe we can aplish great things together."
They continued chatting casually for a few more minutes. Despite his earlier intensity, Ooduwa proved to be a gracious host. He even offered to host Eleanor for dinner. But she declined politely, citing her tight schedule.
Before her departure, Ooduwa presented her with an extravagant gift, a custom-made gold jewellery set iid with wless diamonds.
A helicopter brought her back to the airport, and she stepped into her Gulfstream G650 once more, ready to leave Nigeria.
As the engines roared to life and the aircraft taxied for takeoff, Eleanor settled into her private cabin and called Freya. They chatted for over half an hour before she picked up herptop and began clearing her backlog of work.
***
Back in the kingdom, the atmosphere was anything but calm.
The entire day had been consumed by the fallout from the mysterious attack on Luke Baxter. The police had scoured every corner for a potential suspect among the women listed as Luke’s former lovers, but they found nothing. None of the names matched the witness’s descriptions, nor did their family members.
With no leads, the investigators had to drop the theory that the assant was a vengeful ex-girlfriend.
But this shift in direction only fed the mes online. The information had, unsurprisingly, leaked to the press. The anonymity of the attacker and theck of evidence gave rise to wild spection. Social media erupted with posts glorifying the ck-d woman as a modern-day vignte... an avenger of wronged women, a shadowy symbol of justice.
In just one afternoon, the mysterious figure earned a name: The ck Revenger.
Then things escted.
Within a single hour, three separate women held press conferences in different cities. Each stood before cameras, holding DNA reports that proved Luke Baxter was the father of their children. They demanded justice and financial support, expressing sorrow over years of silence and abandonment.
Public sympathy swayed strongly in their favour. Netizens spread the story like wildfire, dubbing the children as victims of Luke’s recklessness.
Meanwhile, the Baxter family spiralled into chaos. Their stock prices plummeted across the board. Longstanding business contracts were cancelled. Government agreements were quietly suspended. Investors pulled out in droves, unwilling to risk public bacsh.
To make matters worse, the patriarch of the family remained in critical condition. Tensions rose within the family ranks. Many turned against Luke, ming him for dragging their name through the mud.
Luke himself was left alone in his hospital bed, isted even from his own family. Nurses treated his wounds without warmth, cursing under their breath. Even they couldn’t hide their disgust.
That evening, as office workers returned home, a new surprise emerged... someone had created a four-page superheroic titled "The ck Revenger." Its story was simple: a ck masked woman who righted wrongs where the justice system failed. The viin was clear, a powerful man who used his status to destroy women’s lives.
Theic went viral.
Soon, it was discovered that the creator of this miniic was a celebrated American artist who had won the Eisner Award for Best Writer five times. With theicmunity now involved, the story exploded internationally.
The Baxter scandal had officially gone global.
***
Back in the sky, aboard the Gulfstream G650, Eleanor worked quietly in her private cabin. Her shadow guards, with nothing urgent to do, began checking their phones.
ric was the first to notice the viralic. His eyes widened as he skimmed the panels. "Guys," he whispered, calling the others over.
They huddled around his phone, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Ophelia, their silent assassin, had just be a global superhero.
Last night, they killed nine assassins who hade to kill their boss. It took them the whole night to locate and eliminate all of them, while Ophelia just chopped off one leg and turned it into such big news.
They knocked on Eleanor’s door.
She nced up from herptop. "Come in."
They filed in and showed her theic and the trending hashtag #ckRevenger.
Eleanor stared for a moment, then simply nodded and returned to her work.
Slightly disappointed by herck of reaction, they left the room.
But as the door closed behind them, a small smirk curved her lips.
She understood why they’de... to see her reaction, to share in the surrealness of the moment. But she had kept herposure. Her mind, however, was already racing with possibilities.
The Baxter family had surely made powerful enemies over the years, she thought. Now those enemies saw an opening, and they were not holding back.
As for Ophelia’s unintended rise to fame, it was something even she hadn’t foreseen.
Then, a thought struck her.
She pulled out her tablet and started searching. The Baxter family’s real estate arm still held a number of valuable properties. One, in particr, caught her attention... a vimunity bordering NexaByte’s new expansion site.
"Interesting!"
She kept scrolling. The rest of their holdings were unimpressive... gas stations, a supplypany, and a shopping mall.
She ced a call to Teresa.
"I want to join the party to dismantle the Baxter family," she said coolly. "Their shares dropped today. Start spreading the word... they’re going bankrupt. Tomorrow, meet them and begin acquiring their properties. There’s a vi area right next to NexaByte’s call center. Secure it first."