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Timi followed, causing them to scamper out of the way. When she pulled up a male staff to hide behind, Timi chuckled. “You're this camera shy? C'mon, I've been a bad boy, haven't I? Why don't you tell everyone why you've been on Timi Lawson's case, ehn, Rukky?”

“Turn that off,” Rukky hissed.

“Was it Agu who told you to go to this length, or is this something else? Why spread those lies, ehn? What did I do—”

“I saw you with her, you sick bastard!” she snarled suddenly.

Timi froze. Same with everyone in the room. From his corner eye, he saw Alex straighten from where he'd been monitoring the girl's typing.

He frowned. “With whom?”

“On the balcony of the penthouse, back at Aisha's graduation party. I saw you. My own sister is who you humiliated me for?”

Timi lowered his camera, the referred night playing clearly in his head.

Rukky, who had been on his neck since she laid her eyes on him, had cornered him at the back of her former mansion despite Agu's presence.

He had no scruples alright, but even he knew the lines to never cross.

And having exhausted his coffers of civility from her constant badgering, he'd snapped.

“No amount of begging would make me fuck you so you can go brag to your simpleton friends you've had a piece,” he'd said above the music. “Pick up your dignity, Rukky, and stop behaving like a cheap whore.”

Unfortunately, someone must have been making a personal video nearby, because soon his words began circulating the Internet.

The video was blurry and his voice indistinct, but Rukky's white gown, blonde hair and the name-calling sold her out.

She'd put out a disclaimer, insisting the video was taken out of context, but no one believed.

They hailed the unknown speaker for being the ultimate alpha male.

And soon, any lady who got her heart broken was referred to as being Rukkied .

And anyone with dumb takes online who was aesthetically pleasing automatically became a Rukky .

That same night, however, when the celebrant dragged him upstairs under the pretext of getting more wine, he'd fucked her against a rattan table in a secluded balcony, too high to care about anything.

“Ah,” he said. “You spread these lies because I…chose someone else over you? So, you still haven't picked up your dignity ehn, Rukky?”

Sniggers erupted from where Triple T and the boys sat sprawled.

Her face glitched. Normal and grotesque fighting for control as she sneered.

“You thought Agu would protect you forever, abi?

You don't know what's coming for you, Timi Lawson.” She gestured at Triple T and the boys.

“Do your people know the piece of shit you are? Everything will be exposed soon. Hiding behind women, while spreading your legs for—”

Her eyes widened, her words dying abruptly. The reason soon appeared in the form of Alex. In her rants, she’d dumped her shield, and now, slowly shrank behind the male staff, peeking from his upper arm.

“Why don't you worry about your own people, ma'am,” Alex said softly. “Or how do you think we got in?”

His soft voice and politeness contrasted with his intimidating presence, throwing her into confusion. Her expression alternated comically between fury and fear. And once her hands fell off her shield, the poor boy scampered off.

“You've been busy these past few months,” Alex continued. “Great, because it tells me you're the perfect fit.”

Without her shield, she tried to stand tall. However, it was difficult appearing brave when one's head, at full height, was inches below their opponent's chest. She glared though, and Timi had to give her points for effort.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Alex held out his phone. “Seen this?”

Timi peeped. It was open to one of the top fan sites that had been the lone sane voice amidst the madness.

Rukky's eyes narrowed as she peered at the screen. “What have they got to do with me? ”

“Everything. They've been the truth to your lies. You'll be taking over.”

“Over my dead body,” Rukky spat.

Alex continued talking like she hadn't interrupted.

“You're going to correct things, ma'am. For every drivel you've posted about Timi and Jude Lawson, you'll make three counter posts, extolling their great virtues.

You've made thirty-eight posts since you broke the first news, so that makes it—” He did a mental calculation.

“— a hundred and fourteen posts I should be expecting.”

“I will never–,” she started, but went silent when Triple T sidled closer.

“I have set the ball rolling with the first apology,” Alex said. “Asides the counter posts you'll be making, you must apologise sincerely to Timi Lawson and urge everyone to do so twice a week for the next one month.”

Rukky gasped. “You have no idea who you're dealing with. We have a licence to protect! Once I do that, every news I've posted and will post would lose credibility. I get my stories from reliable sou—”

“I don't care if you get them from God himself,” Alex cut in. “Would you also like me to spell out the consequences of failing me, or is there some part of your brain that understands the writing on the wall?”

Rukky chose wisely to only glare at him.

“Congratulations then. You're now an unofficial fan site. I hope you understand, no one can know about this visit?”

Timi waved his phone, giving a broad smile for effect.

Alex turned to the workers, all eight of them, who stood, wearing weird expressions of awe mixed with shame. “And for you, I know the country is hard, but find jobs that do not pay you to destroy people’s lives, will you?”

They nodded emphatically, but their enthusiastic posturing was for the moment. No one gave a shit, else, how would they survive?

On their way out, on the wall, above where the guards sat huddled, someone had drawn the image of a spider with a red marker.

OUR SINCEREST APOLOGY

We regret to inform the public of the unverified news Sporax Media have been posting for the past months about Nollywood actor and businessman, Timi Lawson.

As a veritable news agency, we are deeply ashamed of our contribution to the travesty that has caused Mr. Lawson undue pain and discomfort.

We sincerely apologise for our indiscretion and promise to print the truth and nothing but the truth from now on.

Our apology also goes to the late Dr. Jude Lawson and his family, who didn't deserve our unprofessionalism.

A special shout-out to Mr. Joshua Dressman, a senior lecturer in LASU, who did everything to protect the family name. We assure you, sir, a TRUCKLOAD of truths will be our priority from now on…