CHAPTER 12
HLENGIWE
She stands in the center of her walk-in closet, her hands trembling as she tosses shoes and bags onto the floor. The plastic bag from the police station is sitting on her vanity, but it is half-empty. She finds his leather wallet, wedding band, and the shattered remains of his watch, but the phone is nowhere to be found.
“It was here,” she whispers, her voice rising in a panicked pitch. “The officer said everything was in the bag. Where is it?”
She begins to spiral, her heart beating so fast against her ribs. The room starts to spin, the edges of her vision turning dark and fuzzy. By the time she opens her eyes, it’s the next morning, her personal GP is busy with her.
Her eyes wander around and notice the drip next to her bed. The doctor explains that her blood pressure is sky-rocketing, reaching levels that threaten a stroke or a panic attack that could lead to a heart attack. She leaves her with a heavy tray of medications and a referral letter to see a psychiatrist immediately.
The pills do their job too well, knocking her into another deep sleep and only drags herself awake around eleven. She takes a cold shower, wears a simple dress and drags herself down the hallway to the kitchen.
She finds Siza focused over her work laptop at the breakfast table, while Balungile stands at the stove, the smell of whatever she is making filling the air. She feels so grateful for having these two here at such a time. Her mother died when she was young, and her father is as good as dead; he didn’t even bother to show his face at Funani’s funeral. These two women are all she has left.
Siza looks up, immediately pushing her laptop aside and pulling out a chair. “Hlengi, good morning. Please sit down. You look a little better today.”
She sinks into the seat, leaning her head back. “Only if this headache would just go away. It’s hitting right between my eyes and at the back of my ears. It feels like my skull is too small for my brain.”
Balungile places a steaming plate of food in front of her. “Eat, Hlengi. You need to get your strength back if you’re going to survive the next few weeks.”
She picks up her fork, forcing a small bite down. “The doctor booked me to see a psychiatrist as soon as possible,” she says, her voice flat. “I’ve been thinking about going to the house in Cape Town. I need to be away from this house just to regroup. I’ll find a therapist down there.”
Balungile stops stirring the pot and turns around, “Are you serious right now? Hlengi, how can you leave when things are like this? You are the CEO now. There’s the issue of Funani’s missing phone, and we know Gatsha is up to something. You cannot just up and run away now.”
The pressure in her head suddenly snaps. She drops the fork, clattering loudly against the plate. “And what should I do, Balungile? Should I stay here until I break myself and drop dead? Is that what you want?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Balungile says, her voice rising to match hers. “I’m saying you need to grow a pair and stand strong! Funani left this to you for a reason.”
She stands up, her chair screeching against the floor. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be me? Do you know what it feels like to lose a husband and an unborn child all at once?”
“No, but…”
“There are no buts!” She screams, tears finally spilling over as she becomes hysterical. “Its easier for you to stand there and call me weak because you have never been in my shoes, never experienced what I am feeling and probably will never do! I am the one suffering! I am the one who feels empty and dead inside! What good am I to the business or anyone else if I am like this? I can’t breathe in this city anymore!”
Siza quickly moves between them, “Ladies, please! Calm down. Take it easier.” She turns to Balungile, “Lungi, I know you mean well sister, but it is obvious to anyone that Hlengiwe is not okay. Her mental health matters more than any truck or contract. Admitting she’s at her limit doesn’t make her weak; it makes her human.
She has been trying her best to stay upright. We went from planning a baby shower to planning a funeral, with her in-laws breathing down her neck to her losing a baby. I can’t even imagine what she is going through at the moment. The least we can do is be kind and patient with her.”
“Hlengi, it’s okay to feel the need to mourn your husband and your child. It’s okay to not be okay. Balungile is just worried because of the conspiracy happening around us, but we can’t ignore your health and pain.”
She wipes her face with her sleeve, her breathing ragged. “I appreciate you both, I really do. I wouldn’t be standing without you but I wish I could just be left alone for a moment.”
Balungile sighs, her shoulders dropping. “I’m sorry Hlengi for pushing too hard, it’s because I’m scared for you. I’ll back off and let you do things at your own pace. What is going to happen to the business if you go away?”
She sits back down, “I will let Gatsha run the ship for now. If there really was foul play, he won’t be stupid enough to try anything now because he knows he is being watched. No matter what we think of him, he knows his job and the clients trust him. Besides, Thabile will keep an eye on him. She’ll report everything back to me.”
Siza nods slowly. “That sounds like a plan. It keeps the business moving while you get your head and strength right. What do you want us to do? How can we help you? “
“Pray for me.”
GATSHA
Friday morning arrives with heat that seems to stick to the walls of the depot. He sits on the chair, his fingers tapping restless on the desk. He has been anxious since the reading of the will. The silence from Hlengiwe has been giving him sleepless nights. He has spent the last few days moving small amounts of money into offshore accounts, nothing big enough to trigger an audit, just enough to ensure he has a soft landing if the floor falls out from under him.
Even Zenzele is distancing himself, which he finds both a blessing and a curse. At least the lawyer isn’t breathing down his neck for his cut, but it also means he is standing on the front lines alone.
His thoughts are interrupted by the office door opening. He looks up, and his heart skips a beat. Hlengiwe walks in, followed by Thabile. She is wearing a long black dress that sweeps the floor and a neatly wrapped doek.
He stands up immediately, his professional mask sliding into place. “Hlengiwe. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
Hlengiwe looks around the room and chuckles. “You couldn’t wait to make Funani’s office your own?”
He opens his mouth to offer a rehearsed defense, but she raises a hand, cutting him off mid-breath. “Sit. We are here to talk to you about the business.”
They all sink into the chairs. Thabile pulls a folder from her bag and lays a single document on the desk. “Mr Cebani,” she begins, “As of this morning, Mrs Nhlapho has assumed her role as the majority shareholder of the holding company that owns this fleet.
You remain the Operations Director of the depot. However, we have restructured how things are going to take place. From today, every cent spent, new contract, and every change in route must be co-signed by Mrs Nhlapho’s office.”
Thabile pushes the paper forward. “This is an Acknowledgement of Authority. It clarifies that while you run the day-to-day, you have no power to sell assets or move funds without her explicit digital signature. Read and sign it after you understand the terms.”
He feels a vein pulse in his forehead, his hand shakes slightly as he picks up the pen and scribbles his name. He is signing away his freedom, but he has no choice at this moment.
“Thabile, please give us a moment,” Hlengiwe says quietly.
She nods and walks out, the silence that follows is thick. His heart is racing as if it’s going to come out of his mouth. Hlengiwe slowly removes her sunglasses. When he sees her red-rimmed, hollow eyes filled with grief, he feels like he’s staring into his own grave.
“I know something was going on between you and Funani before he died,” she says, “The way he changed that will make you a primary suspect for foul play, Gatsha. I am struggling and find it hard to believe that you would hurt him. He loved and treated you like a brother. I’m giving you one chance to come clean.
Tell me what was happening before I found out myself. Because I will. It might not be today, but the truth always finds its way to the light. If you are involved in his death, you should run or kill me as well while you still have a chance.”
He swallows the lump in his throat feeling like a stone. He needs to think fast of a story that explains Funani’s paranoia without incriminating himself, and it has to be rooted in something she can’t argue with.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. He lets out a shaky breath, looking down at his intertwined fingers before meeting her eyes.
“You’re right, things were not okay between us,” he says, ” I was trying to protect him. A few weeks ago, Funani made a bad call.”
He pauses, watching her reaction. ” He got involved with a client from Mauritius. It was a high-stakes logistics contract, but the people behind it were not clean. When Funani tried to pull the business back and tighten the security, they sent someone here. I fought the guy off and saved him.”
Hlengiwe’s jaw tightens, her eyes narrowing. “Why was I kept in the dark and not told of this? “
“Because of the pregnancy, Hlengi!” He says, his voice rising with a desperate, practiced heat. ” I didn’t tell you because Funani made me swear to keep you out of the line of fire.
He was convinced that if you knew the company was being threatened, you would lose the pregnancy. I agreed with him. We both decided to carry that weight so you wouldn’t have to.”
He reaches across the desk but doesn’t touch her hand. “That’s why he was paranoid and stayed until four in the morning changing his documents and moving assets. He wasn’t just hiding things from me; he was building a fortress around you and that child. He made me swear on my life not to tell you a word because he couldn’t risk the stress hitting you. I was just being a loyal friend, Hlengi. I was protecting his legacy and his unborn heir.”
Hlengiwe’s expression flickers at the mention of the baby she just lost. He sees the pain ripple across her face and he pushes the lie further, making it feel like a heavy, tragic secret they shared out of love for her.
“He didn’t trust anyone in the end,” he whispers, shaking his head. “The stress turned him into someone I didn’t recognize. He probably included me in that distrust because he was spiraling, but I never stopped looking out for him. I didn’t tell you because I was terrified of exactly what happened at the hospital. I’m so sorry I failed both of you.”
Hlengiwe sits back, her breath coming in shallow hitches. He watches her and internally exhales. He has successfully used her grief as a shield. For a moment, the tension in her shoulders seems to soften, but the suspicion in her eyes doesn’t fully vanish.
“A client from Mauritius,” she repeats slowly. “I’ll be looking into the books Gatsha and if I find a single cent that doesn’t match your story…”
“I’ll give you the files myself,” he says firmly.
She puts her glasses back on, hiding her soul once more. “I’m leaving for Cape Town tonight. Don’t disappoint me while I’m gone.”
She stands and walks out, leaving him alone in the quiet office. As soon as the door closes behind her, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Damn, that was hot, I missed this side of hers before she became a housewife. This is not good for me though. She’s sniffing and with the new lawyer backing her up, I’m in trouble. I need to do something.”
He has survived her for now, but the clock is ticking.
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)To be continued
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