He pulled at his hair.
“The investor. The CEO… is Zelica.”
Aniya froze.
“What? Zelica? The homeless woman?”
“She’s not homeless anymore,” he growled. “She… she is different. She has a mansion in Cascade. She has a financial consultant. She—she owns the land.”
Aniya’s beautiful face went pale. This was the worst case scenario, not because she loved Quacy, but because her status, her luxuries, and her future depended on his wallet. And now, that wallet was threatened by the woman she had despised the most.
“Surely it’s a bluff,” Aniya shrieked. “She can’t be that smart. Surely she… surely she hooked up with some old rich man. Yes, that’s it. She’s a kept woman.”
Quacy wasn’t listening.
“She wants to audit my company. What am I going to do?”
Aniya’s panic transformed into anger.
“That woman. Who does she think she is, coming back and ruining everything? I’ll handle her,” Aniya hissed.
“Handle what? Don’t get involved.”
But Aniya already had a plan. She knew where the new Black elite of Atlanta gathered. She would find Zelica. She would humiliate that woman in public, reminding her who she really was.
A few days later, through a friend, Aniya discovered Zelica’s location: a luxury boutique café in the new office area of Buckhead.
Aniya arrived with full force—designer clothes from the latest season, a flashy bag, heavy makeup.
She saw Zelica sitting alone in a corner, reading documents on a tablet while drinking tea.
Aniya slammed her hand directly on the table, making noise on purpose.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s here,” she said, her voice projected so everyone could hear. “Mrs. Zelica Okafor, right? Moving fast, huh? Climbing classes—from being thrown out in the lobby to sitting in an expensive café.”
Zelica looked up slowly, looked at Aniya, and then went back to looking at her tablet. She said nothing.
That indifference made Aniya even angrier.
“Hey, I’m talking to you here. Don’t play deaf. Who do you think you are, huh? You’re bothering Quacy. Stay away from him. He is mine now.”
Zelica sighed and put down her tablet.
“Yours?” she asked. Her voice was calm. “Things that are owned are usually objects, Ms. Aniya. Isn’t a human being.”
“Don’t give me lessons. I know your game. You came back to steal Quacy from me again, right? Because he’s successful.”
