CHAPTER 13

Granny Mia was roused from her sleep by the sound of people conversing nearby.

Forcing her eyes open, she was surprised to find herself encircled by a group of market women from the neighborhood.

As Granny Mia fully opened her eyes, she noticed them staring down at her with blank expressions, having realized that she was awake.

Granny Mia attempted to sit up but was unable, so two women helped her into a seated position on the bed while another placed a pillow behind her back for support.

"Y'all wouldn't let me sleep," Granny Mia said weakly out of exhaustion.

"We thought you would be hungry, so we decided to bring you some food and flowers" one of the women said.

"What are the flowers for? Did someone die?" Granny Mia inquired faintly.

"No, they are for you, as congratulations on your quick recovery," the woman replied.

Another woman asked; "What about the food?"

"I would have eaten, but the noise y'all made, ruined my appetite," Granny Mia said as she attempted to move to the edge of the bed.

"Where do you think you are going to?" Another woman asked Granny Mia.

"I need my granddaughter," Granny Mia said.

"You gotta eat first, she's in the White House," another woman added.

Granny Mia's eyes widened in surprise. "Not in prison?!"

"We don't know for sure. We haven't heard any news from her since her arrest."

Granny Mia attempted to reach the edge of the bed in order to laboriously transfer herself to the wheelchair.

"No! My granddaughter is in danger, I need to go find her," Granny Mia said as she dragged the wheelchair close to the bed, so she could go down and sit.

Two women helped her to sit in the wheelchair barefoot, but Granny Mia didn't care.

She maneuvered her wheelchair nearly to the exit door, then halted midway when one of the women remarked,

"Even though she's a thief, you still risk your life for her. Whatchu gon gain from this granddaughter of yours?"

Granny Mia swiftly turned her wheelchair and rolled back to the woman who had just spoken, striking her sharply on the hip with her frail hands.

The woman, taken aback, exclaimed, "Ouch!"

"I ain't finna let you speak about my granddaughter in that manner," Granny Mia stated sternly, her anger evident between clenched teeth.

Then, like the first smack wasn't enough, Granny Mia smacked the woman, the second time on the hips, "Don't." She smacked again, "You." She smacked again "Ever." And again, "Speak." And again, "About my granddaughter in that manner" And she smacked the last one.

The woman yelped in pain;

Granny Mia might be advanced in years, but her hands were firm, as if she had served in the military when she was younger.

The other women laughed at the drama.

Granny Mia turned her wheelchair around and headed toward the exit, her eyes brimming with confusion and tears.

"Mia! You eating or na?" One of the women, who was the same age as Granny Mia called out loudly.

Granny Mia ignored her.

"That old bitch" the woman muttered as she fumed.

"Imma go help her push" The youngest of them volunteered to go and push Granny Mia to her destination.

As the lady held the handle of the wheelchair from behind and started pushing Granny Mia,

Granny Mia said, "Nina, you know where my granddaughter is right? Take me there!"

❤️🧡💚💛💙💜

Cyril was the type of person who never concerned himself with dressing according to his status for gatherings;

He dressed as he pleased, without regard for the setting.

He could be arrogant yet affable when necessary, making it difficult for others to anticipate his next move.

Cyril sat at the head of the table in the large office, while the council members sat on both sides of the large long table situated in the middle of the room.

They all sat facing the large projector that shone brightly into the dark room.

Don stood on the podium that was beside the projector.

Cyril leaned back in his seat, his elbow was on the handle of the seat and his index finger was held under his chin as he concentrated on the projector.

He was dressed casually in deep blue matching joggers and cardigan, with high white sneakers, his hair braided to the back and covered in a deep blue face cap.

Bobby and ten bodyguards stood behind his seat while the rest of the bodyguards and police officers surrounded the room.

Don continued; "We have finally categorized all the workers on the list into different bells. Here, we have a total of nine groups and a total of seven hundred and twenty workers in the cottage.

"To conclude, we will categorize them into groups of eighty. Once they are grouped, we will determine which group goes into each bell," Don explained, pressing the projector remote to display the profiles of the workers and their assigned groups on the screen.

Don continued "This..."

Cyril interrupted Don, "Go back!"

"Yes. Your Excellency," Don obeyed as he pressed the left arrow on the remote, and it went to the previous profile of a worker.

"Why is a mukbang eater categorized into the purplediamond bell?" Cyril asked.

"Well….. Your Excellency, we decided to put her there because...."

Cyril interrupted Don calmly; "Put her in the silver bell," Cyril ordered.

Everyone turned their heads to look at Cyril in awe.

"But Your Excellency, we can't let her into the kitchen…..she will….." One of the council members complained.

Cyril interrupted her as he turned his head slowly to the side, "She will what?" He stared at the council member, his eyes brimming with seriousness and coldness.

"She will eat... eat..." The council member stammered.

Upon noticing Cyril's eyes growing colder, she quickly apologized, "I'm wrong, Your Excellency. I'm so sorry."

Cyril ignored her, turning to face the projector, and added,

"There's plenty of food, so she can eat till she gags."

Silence commenced, as some of the council members put their faces down.

David sat at the corner edge of the table, staring at Cyril.

Cyril rose to his feet and declared, "Revise the list and submit it by today's end; we have only one day remaining until the PBP." With that, he departed.

As he made his way to the exit, every council member rose and bowed in unison.

Cyril exited the office and walked down the hallway, accompanied by Bobby, several guards, and armed police officers.

Bobby opened the iPad and began,

"Your Excellency, we have to be at the furniture office for inspection. New products will be launched soon, so they need your approval for the works."

"What time?!" Cyril asked as they walked.

"Thirty minutes from now, Sir" Bobby responded.

Cyril walked towards where his fleet of cars were packed when he had gatherings or appointments outside the White House.

He was surprised to see a figure facing his car, both hands behind his back, and beside him was Cass, who was giggling and talking, and her voice could be heard from where he stood.

Five guards rushed in front of Cyril trying to protect him, while five went to check on who stood by the car.

Some armed police officers aimed a gun at the figure as they walked silently from behind trying to get closer to the figure.

Cass noticed everything that happened from behind and stopped talking.

The man noticed Cass' silence and turned, and was shocked to behold guns pointing directly at him, but smiled broadly immediately, Cyril interjected.

"Dad!!"