I had barely finished speaking when the wrench in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter. He jumped up, his body tense as a violin string, his eyes red with fury.
“What did you say? Zolani? Who are you? Did he send you?”
I looked him directly in the eyes and said clearly,
“My name is Kemet. I’m Zolani’s ex-wife.”
Malik was stunned, then laughed bitterly.
“Ex-wife? What kind of game is this? Did he send you here to take away this junky workshop? Go tell him I’d rather die than give it to him. I was tricked once. That was more than enough.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, my voice turning cold. “I’m just like you. I was also tricked by him. Kicked out of the house without a dime. He stole everything from me and is now living happily with his mistress.”
Malik’s look of rage slowly transformed into shock. He looked at me and saw the sincerity in my eyes. He saw the same hatred he felt.
“Are you serious?” he stammered.
“I didn’t come here to complain.” I stepped closer. “I came to ask you a question. Do you hate him? Do you want to take back everything he stole from you? Do you want to see him bankrupt, empty-handed, just like he made us?”
In that noisy, dirty workshop, two people—two victims of Zolani—looked at each other. I saw a flame rekindle in Malik’s eyes from the ashes.
He clenched his teeth.
“Hate? I want to tear him apart. I want to see him dead.”
I nodded.
“Great. Then, Mr. Malik, let’s become partners.”
Malik looked at me suspiciously.
“Partners? You say you don’t have money. I’m also about to close down. What can two people with nothing do against him?”
I smiled slightly—a smile I had held back for a long time.
“You’re half right. You are about to close down. I, on the other hand…”
I opened my briefcase and took out a dossier.
“I have nothing except two things. First, evidence of tax evasion, asset diversion, and all the real accounting for Zolani’s company.”
Malik’s eyes widened. He grabbed the dossier with trembling hands and started skimming through it. Being in the industry, he immediately understood that it was genuine.
“God… my God. How did you get this?”
“You don’t need to know how,” I continued in a calm voice. “And second, and more importantly—how much money do you need to destroy his company?”
Malik looked at me as if I were a monster. He didn’t understand what was happening. A woman who had just been kicked out of the house with nothing, with secret ledgers and asking how much money he needed.
“He must think I’m joking with him,” I thought.
“The Zolani of today is not the same as before,” Malik said slowly. “His company is strong. He has many contacts. Destroying him is not a joke. It takes a lot of money.”
“How much is ‘a lot’?” I asked directly. “You are the best at the technical side, the production. You know his strengths and weaknesses. Tell me.”
Malik took a deep breath. The flame in his eyes ignited. It was the opportunity of his life.
“To destroy him, we can’t compete in small things. We have to take a different, faster, stronger path. His merchandise comes mainly from China—old, cheap models. But lately the market prefers the high quality of Japan. If we secure an exclusive distribution contract with a major Japanese brand, use new technology to produce better products at competitive prices, we can steal all his big clients.”
He began pacing.
“For that, we need a new modern factory, a new production line, and most importantly, capital. Money to negotiate with the Japanese partners, money to pay the debts of this workshop of mine.” He paused and looked at me, almost shouting. “At least, at least five hundred thousand dollars is the minimum.”
He stated the amount as a test. He thought I would faint.
I remained silent for a moment.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
In my revenge plan, that amount was already anticipated.
I looked him directly in the eyes.
“Agreed. I will give you five hundred thousand dollars.”
Once again, the workshop seemed to go silent. The sound of the machines outside faded in my mind.
“You…” Malik took a step back. “Are you in your right mind? Half a million? Where are you going to get that money?”
“I won’t waste time with talk,” I said.
I took out my phone and opened my mother’s credit union app. I had full power of attorney. I hid the total balance, but I showed him the transfer screen.
“Mr. Malik, I don’t have time for jokes. I have the money. Where it comes from, you don’t need to know. You only need to know that it is clean money and that it is for our revenge.”
Related Posts
