She’s Finally Gone”, At His Billionaire Wife’s Funeral, He Calls His Mistress to Celebrate, Until—EPISODE 4

• The stench was unbearable. The cell leader, a burly man with tribal marks, stood up and smirked. New fish, welcome. My name is Bullet here. Nothing is free. If you want peace, you pay. If not, he cracked his knuckles. Jonathan straightened his back. Do you know who I am? Bullet laughed so hard the others joined in.
• Everybody here be somebody outside. In here you are nothing. He pushed Jonathan onto the mattress. Respect yourself, banker. It stood not the term. That night Jonathan lay awake, his mind racing. He thought of Amanda’s eyes burning with fury as she exposed him. He thought of the police van, the handcuffs biting his wrists, and the jeers of the staff who once bowed before him.
• But above all, he thought of Sandra, his mistress, his secret partner. In greed, she had promised to stand by him. She had whispered to him, “Don’t worry, Jonathan. If anything happens, I’ll fight for you.” A bitter smile spread across his face. Sandra will save me. Amanda doesn’t know the war she started.
• Meanwhile, Amanda sat in her office at Williams Group headquarters, her father’s portrait staring down at her from the wall. The events of the funeral replayed in her head like a storm. She still felt the tremor in her hands, the weight of betrayal cutting through her chest. Juliet entered quietly, carrying files.
• Madam, these are the financial reports from the past 3 years. We found dozens of unauthorized withdrawals. Jonathan moved billions into accounts linked to shell companies. Amanda closed her eyes briefly. How could I have been so blind? Olivia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Don’t blame yourself. Jonathan is a master of deception. He used love as a mask.
• Amanda opened one of the files and sighed. This will be a long fight. He may be in prison, but his fingerprints are everywhere. If we don’t clean this mess, Williams group will collapse. George walked in, his face lined with worry. Amanda, we need to talk about court. Jonathan’s lawyer has already filed for bail. Amanda’s eyes sharpened.
• Bail? After everything he did, George nodded. They argue there’s no solid evidence tying him to attempted murder. They claim it was all misunderstanding. Amanda’s heart pounded. She stood. No, I will not let him walk free. If it means standing in court myself, I’ll do it. The truth must be heard.
• At that same moment, Sandra sat in her luxury apartment on Victoria Island. She was draped in silk, a glass of red wine in her hand, her phone pressed to her ear. Yes, barristister,” she said coolly. “Do everything possible to free Jonathan. Money is not the problem. He is the father of my unborn child.” Her words were icy, deliberate. She had rehearsed them for weeks.
• In truth, she wasn’t pregnant. She had only used that lie to tighten her grip on Jonathan’s wealth. When the call ended, she leaned back and smirked. “Jonathan, you fool! You thought you were using me, but soon I will control everything.” Amanda is strong, but I am smarter. She took another sip of wine, her mind already weaving plots. If Jonathan rots in prison, I still win.
• If he comes out, I’ll bend him to my will. Either way, Amanda loses. Two weeks later, the Lagos High Court buzzed with journalists, lawyers, and curious citizens. The case of State versus Jonathan Uch had become the talk of the nation. Amanda arrived in a black Mercedes flanked by security. She wore a navy blue gown, her hair tied neatly, her face calm but unreadable.
• Cameras flashed as reporters shouted questions. “Mrs. Williams, is it true your husband tried to kill you? Do you feel safe now that he’s in custody?” Amanda said nothing. She walked straight into the courtroom, head held high. Inside, Jonathan sat in the dock, dressed in prison uniform.
• He looked thinner, his mustache unckempt, but his eyes still carried fire. When Amanda entered, he smirked. “You’re glowing, Amanda,” he sneered. “Don’t worry. This court is just a stage. I’ll be free soon. And when I return, you’ll beg for mercy.” Amanda’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t reply.
• The judge, an elderly man with sharp eyes, banged his gavvel. “Order in court. Let us proceed.” The prosecution laid out evidence, bank records, eyewitness accounts, and recordings from Amanda’s staged death. Dr. Nelson testified about Jonathan’s threats.
• Cynthia described how Jonathan withdrew money secretly at midnight, but the defense struck back fiercely. Jonathan’s lawyer painted Amanda as a manipulative wife, staging her own death to ruin her husband. He claimed the bank withdrawals were business investments, not theft. At one point, Jonathan himself took the stand. His voice dripped with false humility. I loved Amanda. I still love her.