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After Ahmad walked out of the room, Ameerah sighed and sat next to Jadwa to console her. Jadwa's eyes were as dry as the desert. On the outside, people would think she had become numb, which she had, to almost everything. Her midterms were ongoing, and Jadwa could only care less. Hannan sat in front of her and held her cold hands.

"Jadu, you can't be like this," Ameerah said, looking at her with pity.

"You really can't be like this, Jadu," Hannan started. Jadwa chuckled.

"What else do I do?" she asked, looking at them.

"Look, Jadwa, this man never deserved you!" Hannan asserted. "I understand how everything happened too fast, but would you actually want to end up with him after all the things you mentioned he said to you?"

Jadwa ducked her head down.

"Really, Jadwa," Ameerah tried to reason with her. "She had long existed probably even before you, and maybe that's why your brother never liked your relationship with him. You've only been together for not up to six months. You can only imagine how much he has hidden, even mentioning how he almost left another woman for you, meaning you were never a priority; you were just an option to him!" Ameerah's words pierced right through Jadwa. The reality check her words provided made Jadwa think with her mind, not her heart, this time.

A lone tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, realizing how foolish she would have been to go back to Abdulhakem. Not once did he try to reach out to her or her siblings in the past two weeks. She truly wasn't the one in the first place, and it was time to accept it.

"Thank you so much," her voice broke, almost a whisper. "You are right. I didn't know what I was thinking."

"We understand you, everyone understands you. You should absolutely take your time and your space, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get any help either," Ameerah said.

"Exactly, it really won't hurt. Ya Imran is one of the best in his field, he has worked for so many government agencies," Hannan added.

"What does a professor have to do with this, Ya Hannan?" Jadwa asked, and they both burst out laughing while Jadwa stared at them with nothing but confusion on her face.

"Jadwa, not because Ya Moh is my relative or anything, but I promise you this will only be a matter of time before it becomes history. He has worked as a foreign intelligence hacker for so many years in Russia before returning to be a professor and teach in Dubai," she reassured her.

Jadwa's jaw almost dropped at the information. Realizing the reason they laughed at her, she felt a little embarrassed.

"But still, why does he have to be involved?" she dragged, closing her face with her palms frustratingly.

"Ikon Allah!" Hannan laughed.

"Did our ship sail without us knowing?" Ameerah asked while exchanging a teasing look with Hanan.

"What ship?" she looked at them wide-eyed when she processed Ameerah's words as if they were crazy. "You people are delusional!" She got up immediately, not in the mood to entertain their banter.

"Wait, now tell us more!" Hannan laughed, making Jadwa laugh hard as she tickled her.

"Why would you even think like that?" Jadwa asked, making the girls groan disappointedly.

"Do you know what you're saying?" she gasped. "He's even way too old for me!" she said and got up and ran to the bathroom.

"You'll say that again" Ameerah laughed before they left the room for her. It was almost noon and time to set lunch.

****

Muhammad Imran stood at the heart of the bustling rice mill, deep in the middle of Borno. The air was thick with the scent of freshly harvested rice and the rhythmic hum of machinery. Workers moved with practiced efficiency. Imran, wearing sunglasses to shield his eyes from the blistering sun, oversaw the operation with a critical eye. The scorching sun of Borno beat down relentlessly, but Imran moved with purpose, unbothered by the heat.

As he walked through the expansive fields, rows of golden stalks swaying gently in the breeze, a team of managers trailed behind him, discussing important business matters. The conversation was intense, focused on expanding the farm's production and curbing the financial crimes that had recently plagued their operations. Imran's presence was commanding, his reputation for integrity and sharp business acumen preceding him.

It had been a challenging day. Imran had already fired six men for financial malpractice, his firm stance on corruption leaving no room for leniency. Each dismissal was necessary, ensuring the farm's integrity and future. He was deep in thought, considering the next steps for expansion, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Gentlemen, let's have a 15-minute break," he announced to the group, his authoritative tone leaving no room for questions. He stepped aside, seeking the shade of a large mango tree that stood at the edge of the field.

"Assalamu Alaikum," he greeted, answering the call.

"Wa Alaikumus Salam, Ya Imran. How are you?" Ahmad's voice came through, laced with concern.

"Alhamdulillah, and your family?" They exchanged pleasantries, but Imran sensed an undercurrent of worry in Ahmad's tone.

"When are you coming back, Ya Imran?" Ahmad asked, his voice strained.

"Ten days or two weeks, InshaAllah," Imran replied, glancing at the cloudless sky.

Ahmad sighed heavily, the sound crackling through the phone. Imran's instincts, honed from years in intelligence work, kicked in immediately. "What's up, bro? Is there a problem?"

"I was just looking to see your input on some investigations I've been on," Ahmad began hesitantly. "I thought you would be back soon."

"What investigation? Is anything happening at the office?" Imran's voice sharpened, his mind already shifting gears as he looked around the field.

"No, not at all. Just some big problems created here in the family, threats here and there, and some blackmailing," Ahmad explained, his voice heavy with stress.

"Subhanallah!" Imran exclaimed, his grip tightening on the phone. He moved further into the shade, away from the noise of the mill. "Are the police involved? What's the brief of the case?"

"Jadu," Ahmad said, the single word carrying a weight that hit Imran. He straightened up, his full attention now riveted.

"She went to a spa for some hammam and just those girl stuff, and unfortunately, someone got very contradictory pictures of her and is now blackmailing, threatening, and following her around. The police aren't helping; maybe they lack the technology or something, man, but it's completely draining me."

Imran removed his sunglasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as he processed the information. The urgency in Ahmad's voice was palpable. "How long has this been going on?" he asked, his tone measured but laced with concern.

"Almost a month or over, I'm not sure," Ahmad answered with a deep sigh. "The person seems to be getting impatient since I took the phone away from her. They are now sending pictures to our family members,with some gruesome information, and I can't let this reach our parents, Ya Imran. They won't even try to understand."

Imran felt a surge of anger, a rare and unsettling feeling for someone usually so composed. His protective instincts flared, every fiber of his being focused on Jadwa's safety. "How is she?" he asked, his voice softer now, filled with concern. "Jadwa, how is she?"

"Man, I don't even know how to answer that," Ahmad chuckled nervously, a brittle sound that spoke volumes about her own state of mind.

Imran took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Ahmad, I'll be in Abuja by evening. Send me all the necessary information and also ask the police to share their progress and findings as soon as possible."

"Ya Moh! You don't have to come back. You could just discuss with the police—" Before Ahmad could finish, Imran cut him off.

"I want to go through them before I land in Abuja. Let's get it over with. Please swiftly forward what I just asked," he said. "From what you just said, they seemed very frustrated with the lack of response. Anything can happen now if we are not fast."

There was no room for argument with Muhammad, and Ahmad knew it. He simply agreed and wished him a safe flight.

Imran hung up and immediately turned to his assistant, barking orders to prepare for his departure. He moved with a sense of urgency, packing his things quickly and making calls to charter a flight. The rice mill, the sun, the workers all of it faded into the background as his mind zeroed in on the crisis at hand.

As he boarded the private plane, Imran's mind was a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies. He spent the flight poring over the information Ahmad had sent, his analytical mind dissecting every detail. The more he read, the clearer it became that the police had mishandled the case from the start.

When the plane landed, Imran wasted no time. Sadiq picked him up, and they headed straight home. It was past five in the evening when they arrived. After a quick shower and prayer at the mosque, Imran was back in his car, speeding towards Ahmad's house.

The sight of police cars outside Ahmad's house brought a grim smile to his face. He was ready to take charge and resolve this once and for all.

He shook their hands, and they introduced themselves. "I am Muhammad Imran Moriki, Foreign Intelligence Officer," he introduced himself professionally and sat down to look at the files on the table and went through them as he listened to their explanation.

"Where's the CCTV footage from the spa?" he asked.

Inspector Tony scratched his head before answering. "We didn't go through that path because they must have deleted the footage. We thought it would be unnecessary."

Muhammad Imran looked up at them, utterly disbelieving, before speaking again. "What's the result from the interrogation of the workers there?" he asked again.

"We didn't include the spa in our investigations, Sir, to speed it up we wanted to directly track him," Tony said.

Imran slammed the files on the table, the anger in his eyes a storm brewing. "Speed it up?" he roared, his voice a force that rattled the room. "This isn't a race, Inspector! This is Jadwa's safety on the line! You haven't even scratched the surface with basic investigative steps. Where's the evidence? Phone records, internet trails, alibis – anything?"

The police squirmed under his gaze. "We, uh, haven't gotten that far yet, Sir," Tony stammered.

Imran took a deep, steadying breath, forcing down his rage. "Then step aside," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This is a cybercrime, and clearly out of your depth. Consider yourselves relieved of duty."

A stunned silence filled the room. Ahmad's eyes widened, while Ameerah exchanged a worried glance with the officers.

"Don't worry," Imran reassured them, his voice calming slightly. "I'll handle this."

The police echoed apologies and promises to work on it and He leaned forward, his gaze sharp at Tony. "I'm taking your word for it. First, the spa. Get a warrant and secure the entire system. We need all server backups, deleted files, everything. We can potentially recover even overwritten data. Interview every single employee front desk, masseuses, cleaners anyone who might have seen someone acting suspicious or with unauthorized access to the security cameras. Look for inconsistencies, any unusual behavior, List of employees and their personal transactions or financial transactions around the time the pictures were taken."
He looked at his watch and back at them "Before midnight" The police noted down everything and rushed to work immediately he dismissed them.

"Ya Imran, I sincerely appreciate you coming all the way back. Thank you so mu—" Ahmad was cut off by Muhammad Imran.

"Ahmad, please we are above this" he smiled reassuringly, putting a stop to all the thanks Ahmad was about to rain on him.

"Get me Jadwa now"