Eko Hotels
"Mister President, it’s an honour to be invited to your big day. First Lady, you’re as dazzling as ever. I rember when—"
Aminu smiled, nodded, shook hands. The words flowed out of him like muscle mory. Complints. Laughter. Light touches on shoulders. The kind of charm that made people feel seen without him giving anything away.
"Thank you for coming," he said again. "It ans a lot."
Another handshake.
Another smile.
Another glance to the side.
No Tayo.
Aminu’s eyes kept drifting, sharp beneath the pleasant curve of his mouth. He knew the faces in front of him. Presidents. Ministers. Billionaires. dia kings. Oil families. Tech barons. n who smiled with their teeth and calculated with their eyes.
"Mr President," a tall man said, accent heavy, "Nigeria has changed under your leadership."
Aminu laughed lightly. "Nigeria is always changing. I just happened to be here while it did."
The man laughed with him.
Aminu nodded, then turned slightly.
Still no Tayo.
He leaned toward a man in a dark suit standing a step behind him. "Has Red security reported in?"
The man shook his head once. "Not yet, sir."
Aminu’s jaw tightened for half a second before relaxing again.
"Get my PA," he said quietly.
Monts later, his PA was beside him, phone already in hand.
"Call Tayo," Aminu said, still smiling at a woman praising the First Lady’s dress. "Tell him I want him here now."
The PA nodded and stepped aside.
Aminu accepted another greeting.
"Mr President," a familiar voice said. "Congratulations."
Aminu turned and smiled wider. "Ah. It’s been too long. Last ti we spoke, you were still campaigning."
"Now I’m complaining," the man joked.
They laughed.
Aminu leaned in slightly. "Politics does that."
They separated.
Aminu looked past him again.
Nothing.
The PA returned, voice low. "No answer, sir."
Aminu didn’t stop smiling. "Try again."
Another greeting ca.
"Mister President, on behalf of my governnt—"
"Always a pleasure," Aminu said. "Please enjoy yourselves."
His hand shook another.
His eyes searched again.
Still nothing.
The music shifted.
People began settling.
The event was starting.
Aminu’s smile didn’t fade, but sothing cold settled behind his eyes.
He leaned toward the PA again. "Where is he?"
"We’re trying, sir," the PA whispered. "His line is active, but no response."
Aminu nodded slowly. "Call Ironcrest. Call Valen. Call whoever is supposed to be coordinating tonight."
The PA hesitated. "Sir, Red Bandits are the ones—"
"I know who they are," Aminu said softly. "Find them."
A woman approached, glass in hand. "Mr President, may I say—this gathering is historic."
Aminu smiled at her. "History likes anniversaries."
She laughed.
Aminu excused himself half a step and turned to the PA again. "Any word?"
"No, sir."
Aminu’s fingers tightened slightly.
He straightened.
"Proceed," he said. "We’re not delaying."
The event moved forward.
Applause rose.
Speeches began.
Aminu stood where he was ant to stand, nodding at the right monts, smiling when expected, laughing on cue.
Inside, his thoughts raced.
Tayo never missed an assignnt.
Never.
Another pause.
Another glance.
Nothing.
The PA leaned in again. "Sir... still no response."
Aminu finally turned his head fully toward him, voice still calm.
"Then sothing has gone wrong."
The PA swallowed.
Aminu’s gaze drifted across the crowd.
Old allies.
Old enemies.
So he had stepped on.
So he had buried quietly.
So who smiled too easily.
He lifted his glass.
"To family," he said aloud, voice warm, confident. "To years endured. To years ahead."
Cheers answered him.
As the sound washed over the room, Aminu’s smile thinned just a fraction.
He leaned toward the PA one last ti.
"Find Tayo," he said softly. "Now."
The PA nodded and hurried off.
Aminu raised his glass again, and hoped it was not what he’s thinking that happened.
-------
Adam adjusted the cuff of his red suit as he stood outside the hotel, eyes lifted toward the building like he was looking at an old enemy.
"Damn," he muttered, scrolling through his phone. "Look at these people. They were fine back then. Now they all look like retired uncles."
He swiped again and laughed. "Davido too? Wow. Ti really beat everybody except ."
A few heads turned. Adam didn’t care.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and walked straight toward the entrance.
Two guards stepped in front of him.
Adam stopped and looked at them slowly, head tilted.
"Huh?" he said. "The fuck do you think you’re doing?"
One of the guards stiffened. "Sir, this is a private event."
Adam stared at him like he’d said sothing stupid. "Private?"
"Yes. And from what I can see, you’re not invited."
Adam’s face twisted into a grin. Loud. Sharp.
"Invitation?" he said, raising his voice. "The fuck you talking about invitation?"
People nearby started looking.
Adam took a step forward.
"I am Adam," he said. "Leader of the Red Bandits. The Red Devil. I go wherever I want."
The na hit like a slap.
Murmurs spread fast.
So people frowned, confused.
Others froze.
Older ones stiffened like they’d heard a ghost speak.
Adam watched their reactions and laughed. "Yeah. That face. That’s the one."
One guard swallowed. "Sir... that’s not funny."
Adam leaned closer. "Who said I was joking?"
Phones ca out. Whispers grew louder.
Adam raised his hands wide. "What’s wrong? You all look like you saw a dead man."
Soone muttered it.
"He’s dead."
Adam smiled wider. "So I’ve heard."
The guards reached for their weapons.
That was their mistake.
---
Inside the hall.
Aminu froze mid-smile when the na reached his ears.
Adam.
Red Bandits.
Red Devil.
His hand tightened around his glass.
For a second, the noise around him faded.
No.
Impossible.
He was dead.
He made sure of it.
He felt sweat on his neck.
Was that boy really back?
That was the only thought in his head.
His wife noticed imdiately.
"Honey," she said softly, leaning closer. "Relax."
He looked at her.
She smiled, calm, practiced. "You said it yourself. No one survives that. You watched it happen. Everyone did."
Aminu swallowed. "I know."
"There are always fools impersonating legends," she said. "Especially dead ones."
He nodded slowly. "Yes. You’re right."
Then—
The sound cracked through the space.
A single blast.
Screams followed.
Two bodies slid across the floor, dragged like trash.
Aminu’s wife’s breath caught.
The crowd parted.
And he saw him.
Walking in.
Red suit.
Relaxed shoulders.
That sa face.
That sa walk.
Not older.
Not changed.
Exactly the sa.
Aminu’s legs went weak.
"No..." he whispered.
His wife grabbed his arm, nails digging in.
"That’s him," she said, voice shaking. "That’s really him."
Adam stopped at the center and looked around slowly.
Faces pale.
Mouths open.
So people backing away.
So unable to move.
Adam laughed. Not loud. Just enough.
"Wow," he said. "This is way bigger than I expected. You people really know how to celebrate yourselves."
No one answered.
He turned his eyes toward Aminu.
Locked.
Held.
The smile on Adam’s face sharpened.
There it is.
Recognition.
Fear.
"Oh," Adam said. "You look terrible."
Aminu tried to speak. Nothing ca out.
Adam walked forward.
Each step slow.
asured.
"You know," Adam said casually, "I practiced this mont in my head for years. Thought I’d be angry."
He stopped a few steps away.
"But honestly?" He shrugged. "I’m just excited."
His wife stepped in front of Aminu without thinking. "You— you shouldn’t be here."
Adam looked at her. Studied her face.
Then nodded. "Still hiding behind smiles. So things never change."
Her face went pale.
"You rember ," Adam said. "Good."
He turned back to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlen. Sorry to interrupt your little celebration."
Silence.
"I know this is supposed to be a happy day," he continued. "Anniversary. Power. Success."
He looked back at Aminu.
"But I ca to remind you where all this ca from."
Aminu found his voice. Barely. "You’re dead."
Adam tilted his head. "And you’re president."
He spread his arms. "Looks like we both beat the odds."
Soone scread.
Adam ignored it.
He smiled again. Slow. Dangerous.
"What a glorious coback," he said. "Now..."
He glanced around the room once more.
"...let’s get the party started."
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