"Does the DJ not have any Kpop song on his playlist?" I whined.
I was already getting tired of the blasting of Nigerian music in my eardrums at this party. I love Nigerian music, but still, let's get a new genre of music.

"Attend a K-pop party if that's what you want," Ireti countered.

I huffed at her.

"Don't mind her, jare," Claire said, rubbing my arm gently. She's a lawyer at the law firm Ireti and I work in-though I am not a lawyer, Ireti is.

"You guys should go and rest, abeg," Ireti teased.

"Must you guys always argue about music? Enjoy this once-in-a-year party-a day free of cases to handle," Olaleye said. He is also a lawyer at the firm and the fourth member of our friend group.

I'm the only detective among them.

We were attending our firm's 20th anniversary (by force). Trust me, on a day like this, we would rather find ourselves snuggling on the couch at one of our homes, watching a Netflix series.

"I'm only here for the speech," I said, already bored.

"Like you read my mind," Olaleye added.

"Did you see Tade's comedy performance?" Claire asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"The guy was not even funny," Ireti said.

"The fact he was trying to be funny was hilarious," Claire said, stifling a volcano of laughter.

"Then I think he accomplished his goal. He made you laugh," I said.

"You're always looking at the positive side," Olaleye praised.

I shot him a sweet smile.

"Not on K-pop sha," Ireti added.

"I'm supposed to say that to you," I countered. "It's not my fault that you only like K-dramas and not K-pop."

"You guys are not going to do this again tonight, are you?" Claire asked, already face-palming.

"I wonder how they live together?" Olaleye added.

"I'm going to use the restroom," I said, getting up from my seat.

I heard Ireti mumble something I couldn't pick.

After I was done, I washed my hands, reapplied my lip gloss, and brushed loose strands of my hair. As I made my way back to the hall, I scanned for my friends.

"Yemisi! It is you!" someone called.

I turned to look at the person and rolled my eyes when I saw him. Ibukun. My nemesis.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Did Emeka invite you?"

I eyed him. "Do you still think my world revolves around Emeka?" I countered.

"I don't know. You could still keep your relationship neutral," he said, smirking.

"I'll do that when you do the same," I scoffed, brushing past him.

He held my hand.

"Don't walk away; people might think something is going on between us," he said.

"They're dumb if they think anything could happen between us apart from war," I replied, struggling to free my hand.

My phone buzzed in my purse. He let my hand go so I could pick up the call.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was low and distorted.

"Detective Yemisi," it said mockingly. "You might want to pay attention. In ten seconds, someone will be murdered at your little party."

"What?" I hissed, stepping away from Ibukun. "Who is this? What kind of sick joke-"

"This is no joke," the voice interrupted. "And don't waste your time chasing the wrong person. The one running out of the hall isn't the culprit. The real one is standing right next to you."

The call ended abruptly, leaving me frozen in place.

I turned slowly, my heart racing as I processed the voice's words. My eyes landed on Ibukun. He was standing just a few feet away, watching me with that same cocky smirk.

The countdown in my head began.

10... The CEO was still on stage, giving his speech.

9... A man near the exit started moving, drawing the attention of a few guests.

8... My gaze swept back to Ibukun.

7... His expression didn't change-calm, confident, smug.

6... The words of the caller echoed in my mind.

5... The real one is standing right next to you.

4... I clenched my fists, unsure if I should act or wait.

3...

2...

1.

The lights flickered, and a loud gunshot pierced the air.

The CEO staggered at the podium, clutching his chest before collapsing. Screams erupted as chaos descended upon the hall.

My head snapped back to Ibukun. He stood still amidst the commotion, hands in his pockets, his smirk deepening as his eyes met mine.

The voice was right. But was this a warning-or a setup?