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November 12, 2018

The clueless boyfie

I’m beginning to suspect that for Mr N, this blackmailing scam is not about the money. I feel like I’m a pawn in a much more complex game. He handpicks these guys, sets them up, and all for what? A few millions? 

He’s a very wealthy man; he doesn’t need to do this. I can’t shake off the feeling that his motives are different. I ponder this on the ride home. Well, whatever his motives, I’m gaining from this, so perhaps I should just enjoy what comes my way. Besides, Mr N is not as smart as he thinks he is. I already conned him out of his share with the VIP, right? 

I wake up the next day to find that he has made good on his promise. But the piece on Mpasho News is not so much cautionary as no holds barred. 

‘Prominent Nairobi Businessman Gets Local Girl Pregnant.’ 

A prominent Nairobi businessman with close ties to the First Family and married to a lady from one of the most powerful families in the country has knocked up a local girl. Our sources say that she is keeping the baby and a protracted legal battle will follow once the child is born to force him to assume parental responsibility. It is unclear at this time if his wife is aware of the unfolding situation. The girl has promised to release his name soon. Watch this space.

Well, that should do it. I send a text message to Mr N.

Me: That’s your idea of a cautionary salvo?

Mr N: No point beating around the bush. 

Me: Now what? 

Mr N: I have already sent him the link, asking him to read it and speculating about who it may be.

Me: What did he say?

Mr N: He mentioned one or two friends of ours.   

Me: Is that a good thing?

Mr N: Very good. If he didn’t care as he told you, he would’ve come clean. 

Me: Should I call him?

Mr N: No. Wait for him to call. 

I head to the bank to deposit the cheques from the VIP. They are fortunately made out from one of his companies, or else the cashier would probably view me with suspicion. She hands me the deposit slip and I high-tail out of there. Yaaaaaas! One down, two to go. I’ll be patient and wait for GG to act as per Mr N’s instructions, but how about the prude? I haven’t heard from him and our video is all over the Internet. Should I call him?

“Samantha! Is that you?”

I turn towards the sound of the familiar voice and there he is, Eric in the flesh. I smile and give him a hug. 

“Hey, you…” 

He looks good. But then again, Eric always looks fine. 

“Want to grab some lunch?” he asks. 

This is a huge relief to me. He’s being so friendly that it is entirely possible that he never saw the video online. Not everyone is social media-obsessed. 

“Lunch sounds good,” I say. 

He takes me to Carribea, a koroga joint a few minutes away. We chat as we wait for our chicken. 

“What have you been up to?” he asks. 

If only he knew.

“Nothing much,” I say. “Quite uneventful, my life.”

“I’ve been flying nonstop, crazy schedule, sorry I haven’t called,” he says. 

“That’s ok, I barely noticed,” I tell him. 

That’s the truth. Between blackmailing all these men and trending on social media with a sex tape, Eric has been the last thing on my mind. 

“I’m very glad to see you,” I add, to take the sting out of my previous statement. 

“Same here, I’ve missed you,” he declares. 

Men are strange. When you don’t pay them attention, they like you more. 

 

 

 

 

 

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