Peter knew something was wrong the moment Michael walked through the door. It was past midnight, but the house wasn't dark. The living room light was on, and their father sat in his favorite armchair, still in his day clothes, looking exhausted and ancient. Michael stood in the doorway to the room, his coat still on, his body rigid. He didn't look at Peter, who was coming down the stairs after a futile attempt to sleep.
"Michael? You're back late," Chief Emmanuel said, his voice weary.
Michael finally moved, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the floor a careless, angry gesture so unlike the fastidious older brother. His eyes, red-rimmed and blazing, finally found Peter.
"Ask him," Michael said, his voice trembling with a fury so potent it seemed to vibrate in the air.
"Ask who? Ask what?" Chief Emmanuel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Ask our brother," Michael spat the word like a curse. "Ask him what he really did to Akanbi Onobanjo. Ask him why that man is truly trying to bury us."
A cold dread, sharper than any he'd felt in Akanbi's office, pierced Peter's chest. "Michael-"
"Shut up!" Michael roared, taking a step forward. "Just shut your mouth, you liar! All this time! 'It's complicated.' 'It's personal.' You let me think you'd maybe insulted him, argued with him... but this?"
Chief Emmanuel struggled to his feet. "Michael! Calm down! What are you talking about?"
Michael turned to their father, his face a mask of pain and disgust. "I heard it tonight, Dad. From a source in that man's circle. It's all over the place in certain gossip. Peter didn't just crash into his car." He turned his burning gaze back to Peter, his next words deliberate, designed to maim. "He made a homosexual advance towards him. He propositioned Akanbi Onobanjo. And when the man, understandably, was revolted and threw him out, Peter's pride couldn't take it. That's the personal insult. That's why he's destroying us!"
The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Peter felt the world drop out from under him. It was a lie so brilliant, so perfectly tailored to their society's deepest prejudices, that it was unanswerable. It wrapped the truth-Akanbi's monstrous obsession-in an inverted, believable package that made Peter the predator, the pervert, the cause of the shame.
Chief Emmanuel slowly sank back into his chair, his face ashen. He looked at Peter, and for the first time in his life, Peter saw not confusion or disappointment in his father's eyes, but a flicker of... distance. Of shock.
"No," Peter breathed, the word barely audible. "That's not what happened. That's a lie he's spreading. He's doing this to break us apart-"
"Who would believe that lie?!" Michael exploded. "Why would a man like that make up such a specific, disgusting story about you unless it had a grain of truth? What possible reason could he have to ruin us over a simple car accident unless he was deeply, personally offended?!"
Because he wants me, and I said no. The truth was more insane than the lie. It would sound like a madman's boast or a further delusion.
"Michael, listen to me-"
"I'm done listening!" Michael shouted. "You have brought shame to this family's name! Not just failure, but filth! Do you know what this means if it spreads? We won't be able to get a loan, a license, a handshake! We'll be a joke! The family with the gay son who harassed a billionaire!"
"ENOUGH!" Chief Emmanuel's voice, though weak, cut through the room. He looked between his sons, his shoulders slumped under the weight of a catastrophe he couldn't comprehend. "Peter... is this true?"
The direct question was a knife. Looking into his father's eyes, Peter saw that it didn't matter if he denied it. The seed was planted. The doubt was there. The story had a perverse logic that the real one lacked.
"He is lying to destroy me," Peter said, each word costing him. "He is a sick, manipulative man. He... he wants something from me, and I refused. This is his revenge."
"What could he possibly want from you that you could refuse?" Michael cried, throwing his hands up in despair. "What is so valuable that he'd go to these lengths?"
Peter could only stare, trapped in the prison of Akanbi's design. To say it would confirm the lie in their minds. To not say it made him look guilty of the lie.
Chief Emmanuel held up a shaky hand. "I do not understand this world anymore." He looked at Peter, a deep sorrow in his eyes. "Whatever the truth is, Peter, you have brought a war to our door that we cannot fight. Akanbi Onobanjo is a tidal wave. We are a sandcastle." He stood up, moving slowly toward the stairs. "I need to think. We will talk in the morning."
"Dad-" Peter started, but his father waved him off without looking back.
When they were alone, the air between the brothers was jagged with broken glass.
"You need to leave," Michael said, his voice now cold and final.
"What?"
"Get out of this house. Go stay with your friend Fess. Anywhere. Your presence here is a target. Every moment you're under this roof, he has a reason to keep attacking. Maybe if you're gone... maybe he'll be satisfied with just ruining the business and not dragging our name through the mud completely."
Peter felt the last pillar of his world crack. His own brother was exiling him. Believing the worst of him. Akanbi's plan was working with horrifying efficiency.
"Michael, he won't stop. This is what he wants. He wants me alone-"
"He wants you punished!" Michael corrected, his voice cracking. "And maybe you deserve it! But the rest of us don't! So take your punishment and go. Fix it. Apologize to him. Grovel. Do whatever you have to do to make him stop, but do it away from us."
There was nothing left to say. The fracture was complete. Peter turned and walked back up the stairs, his legs heavy. He packed a bag in a numb haze, the walls of his childhood room feeling like they were closing in.
As he walked out of the house twenty minutes later, bag in hand, he didn't look back. He knew Michael was watching from the living room window. He knew his father was lying awake in his bed, shattered.
He got into his car, but he didn't drive to Fess's. He drove aimlessly, the glowing lights of Lagos blurring through the film of unshed tears in his eyes. Akanbi had won the second lesson. He had taken his family.
His phone, lying on the passenger seat, lit up. A message.
Unknown: No place to call home anymore? I have a spare bedroom. Climate controlled. With locks on the outside. Think about it.
Peter stared at the message, a new kind of terror seeping into his bones. Akanbi wasn't just watching. He was narrating his destruction in real time. He knew about the confrontation. He knew Peter was now homeless.
The hunt was closing in. And the predator was offering a cage, pretending it was shelter.
Peter had never felt more alone.