The clatter of designer heels sounded outside the lab van, followed by the soft rustle of mink fur.
Elena Sterling stepped into the small enclosure, bringing with her the heavy scent of French jasmine. She wore a tailored ivory coat, with a twelve-carat diamond solitaire gleaming on her left hand.
"Why is this taking so long, Hawthorne?" Elena asked, resting a gloved hand on Hawthorne’s forearm. "The charter flight back to London leaves from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport at midnight. The underwriters are waiting for the patent confirmation."
Amani watched the way Hawthorne’s shoulder relaxed at Elena’s touch—a subtle warmth he had never once offered her in private.
"She’s questioning the assignment clause," Hawthorne said.
Elena let out a short, elegant laugh. She walked closer to the examination bench, looking down at Amani with a cool, patronising smile.
"Your blood is valuable, Amani," Elena said, her tone laced with casual cruelty. "That does not make you valuable."
Amani did not flinch. "My fieldwork formed the basis of the geological survey that saved his firm five years ago, Elena. What have you brought besides your father’s shell companies?"
Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly, though her smile remained fixed. "I brought sixty per cent of the voting shares in Rift Energy Development Holdings. Something a village tracker’s daughter could never acquire." She turned to Hawthorne. "Tell her the rest, Hawthorne. We don’t have time for a domestic debate."
Hawthorne cleared his throat, adjusting his silk tie. "The divorce papers have been drafted by our London solicitors, Amani. Once the patent agreement is signed, you will receive five million pounds in a private settlement and a residence in Malindi. The marriage will be formally dissolved by mutual consent."
"Divorce?" Amani asked. "We built the Rift project together, Hawthorne."
"I built Vance Global," Hawthorne corrected sharply. "You provided local terrain knowledge for our environmental filings and biological samples for Sterling’s research. You have been compensated with a lifestyle far beyond your background."
"You married me because my position within the Sun-Gazer Trust gave your company access to the community-consent process," Amani said, the pieces finally falling into place. "Then you used my name to make it appear that the Trust had approved your drilling plans."
Hawthorne did not deny it. He held out the silver pen. "Sign the paper, Amani. Do not make this difficult."
Amani reached out and took the pen. For a second, Hawthorne’s eyes relaxed.
Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, Amani drove the silver pen through the clear plasma-collection line running from the separation unit to the collection chamber.
The puncture split the line. Golden-tinged plasma sprayed across the steel tray and pooled on the floor.
Dr Cross hit the emergency clamp. The pump stopped at once. He removed the catheter and pressed a sterile pad against Amani’s arm. "I’m sorry," he murmured, too quietly for Hawthorne to hear.
Elena gasped, stepping back to protect her coat. "She’s insane! Hawthorne, look at what she did!"
Hawthorne’s face darkened. He grabbed Amani’s wrist, his grip tight. "You have lost your mind, Amani."
Amani pulled her wrist free with enough force to catch him off guard.
"I have not lost my mind, Hawthorne," she said. "I have simply stopped giving you what was never yours to take."
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