Who beat Michael
After the fight, Kosi headed straight to the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. The doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and she stepped inside. The elevator's smooth ride and soft music provided a stark contrast to the violence that had just erupted in the bar. She passed two private rooms and entered the third one without knocking, the door creaking softly as it swung open.
She sat down beside the black, burly man in his late forties – Michael. The room was dimly lit, with a single, flickering fluorescent light overhead. Michael's eyes widened in shock as he gazed at the familiar yet unknown woman. He couldn't quite place her, but her features seemed hauntingly familiar. The air was thick with tension, and the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. Across the table sat a white man in his thirties, his eyes fixed on Kosi with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
Kosi greeted him with a cold smile. "Hi, Mr. Meller. Let me introduce myself. I'm the girl Michael raped as payment to sign business contracts with the Mabas group, now known as MPAs." As she spoke, her eyes locked onto Michael's, and he looked like he'd seen a ghost. His face turned pale, and his eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape. When he snapped back to reality, he tried to protest, but Kosi played a recording of Michael and his stepfather plotting to take advantage of her 7 years ago. The sound of their voices was like a cold, calculated snake slithering through the room.
Mr. Meller stood up, his face twisted in disgust. "I'll never do business with you again. Tomorrow, I'll announce our cancellation to the public." His voice was firm, with a hint of anger. Michael looked like he'd aged overnight, his face lined with worry and fear. Miller stormed out of the private room, furious, the door slamming shut behind him.
Kosi laughed coldly and stood up, saying, "This is just the beginning. Please tell Victor that I'm back for revenge. The Mabas group must regain its name." Her voice was firm, with a hint of determination. As Kosi spoke, Michael swung a hard slap at her, but she swiftly grabbed his hand and twisted his arm, dislocating his shoulder. Michael's cry of pain was like music to her ears. Kosi then pummeled him with punches, her fists landing repeatedly on his face and body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room, accompanied by Michael's grunts and gasps. Michael's tolerance for pain wore thin, and he eventually passed out. Kosi left him lying there and pulled out her phone to make a call.
As she stepped out of the bar, a car screeched to a halt in front of her. The tires squealed, and the engine roared like a beast. She slid into the vehicle, and it sped away into the night, the city lights blurring together like a colorful smear. An hour later, Kosi's replicate emerged from the hotel, dressed in a striking red, long, flared skirt and a tight white vest. She got into a car and drove away, heading to a nearby mall. The music pulsed through the car, and the lights of the city danced across her face. Once inside, she navigated through the crowded corridors, taking a few turns before ducking into a bathroom. The sound of chatter and music filled the air, and the smell of food wafted through the corridors. Inside the bathroom, she met up with Kosi, and the two quickly exchanged outfits. The replicate kept her head down and exited the bathroom first, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.
A few minutes later, Kosi exited the bathroom, holding her head high. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a bright glow on her face, highlighting her features. She entered a few shops and bought some clothes, the rustle of fabric and the hum of cash registers filling the air. The scent of perfume and fresh clothing wafted through the stores, mingling with the sound of chatter and music. After completing her shopping, she left the mall and hailed a taxi, the warm sun beating down on her skin. The taxi's engine roared to life, and the air conditioning blew a cool breeze on her face as she settled in for the ride.
Meanwhile, at the bar, Michael's personal assistant arrived and found his boss lying on the floor. The dim lighting in the bar seemed to grow even darker, as if the shadows themselves were closing in. Michael was still breathing, but his assistant quickly dialed emergency services for an ambulance and shouted for help. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. A bar helper, who had been delivering drinks, was shocked by the scene. She rushed to put the drinks on a table, her hands shaking slightly as she called for security. The clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations filled the air, punctuated by the sound of Michael's labored breathing.
Michael's assistant turned to the bar helper, grabbing her shirt roughly. "Who did this?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing. The young woman was terrified, stumbling over her words. "I-I don't know...there were three of them when I left to collect their order." The young lady trembled, her eyes wide with fear, as if she expected another blow. Michael's assistant's grip on her shirt tightened, his face twisted in anger. "Describe them," he growled, his voice like a snake slithering through the grass. The young lady hesitated, trying to compose herself. "They were...one was a tall, dark-skinned woman with a red skirt. Mr. Miller was here with Mr. Michael earlier. The lady joined them a few minutes later, and Mr. Miller left." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the words hung in the air like a challenge.
Michael's assistant's eyes narrowed as he released the young lady's shirt. She stumbled backward, gasping for breath, her eyes fixed on his face. "Get the security footage," he barked at a nearby staff member. "Now." The staff member scurried off, his feet pounding the floor like a drumbeat. As the staff member disappeared into the back room, Michael's assistant knelt beside his boss, checking his pulse. Michael's face was bruised and swollen, his breathing shallow. The air was thick with tension, and the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning.