The USB Files
Dombi didn't sleep that night.
Even with the safehouse door locked…
Even with Kabelo keeping watch…
Even with the world finally quiet…
Her mind replayed everything:
Her parents' smiles in the photographs.
Molefe's warning.
Mandla's voice outside the storage unit.
Gugu's betrayal.
Every memory felt like a blade turning slowly inside her chest.
By the time the faint hum of morning reached the underground room, Dombi was already sitting on the couch, backpack open, USB in her hand.
Kabelo emerged from the tiny bathroom, drying his face with a towel.
"You're up early," he said.
"I never slept."
He nodded once — not surprised.
He walked over to the desk, pulled out an old but functional laptop, and placed it in front of her.
"Ready?" he asked.
Dombi took a long breath.
"No," she whispered. "But do it anyway."
Kabelo connected the USB.
The screen flickered.
Then a folder appeared:
NTULI FILES — CONFIDENTIAL
Her stomach twisted.
Kabelo double-clicked the folder.
Inside were more folders — each labeled in a way that made her heart pound:
1. Financial Irregularities
2. Board Misconduct
3. Blackmail Material
4. Project ORION
5. Threat Reports
6. Death Certificates — Revisions
7. Audio Logs — Molefe
8. Personal Message to Dombi
Dombi's breath caught at the last one, but Kabelo stopped her.
"Start from the top," he said gently. "We build the picture piece by piece."
She nodded, even though her hands trembled.
Folder 1: Financial Irregularities
Bank statements.
Transfers.
Shell companies.
Millions routed through accounts controlled by Mandla and two board members.
Names she recognized.
Names from the photographs.
"Mandla's been bleeding the company for years," Kabelo murmured. "Your parents tried to stop him."
A cold shiver ran through her.
Folder 2: Board Misconduct
Dossiers.
Screenshots.
Evidence of bribery, fraud, and threats.
Then she found a photograph of Gugu receiving a thick envelope.
Dombi's throat burned.
So it wasn't love.
It wasn't loyalty.
It was money.
Kabelo watched her quietly, letting her process the blow.
Folder 3: Blackmail Material
Images.
Messages.
Documents showing how Mandla controlled people.
Politicians.
Executives.
Police officers.
Dombi's hands shook harder.
"They were all afraid of him," she whispered.
"No," Kabelo corrected softly. "They were owned by him."
Folder 4: Project ORION
A restricted folder.
Kabelo entered a password from a sticky note Molefe had left inside the box.
The files opened.
Blueprints.
Emails.
Contracts.
"What is this?" Dombi asked.
Kabelo's jaw tightened.
"Project ORION was supposed to be your mother's initiative," he explained. "A development to build schools and clinics in rural villages."
Dombi blinked.
"That sounds good."
"It was," Kabelo said. "Until Mandla hijacked it. He turned it into a money-laundering operation."
Dombi stared at the files in horror.
"My mother would have never allowed this."
"She didn't," Kabelo said. "That's why she died."
The words hit her like a physical blow.
Folder 5: Threat Reports
Molefe had documented every warning, every anonymous message, every suspicious vehicle outside the house.
There were reports dated the day before her parents' accident.
Except it wasn't an accident.
It was planned.
Signed.
Executed.
Her vision blurred with tears she didn't let fall.
Folder 6: Death Certificates — Revisions
Two PDFs.
Her father's death certificate.
Her mother's.
Both had been altered.
Different signatures.
Different time stamps.
Falsified.
Dombi covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to break.
Kabelo sat beside her, silent — not touching, but close enough to remind her she wasn't alone.
Folder 7: Audio Logs — Molefe
There were seven recordings.
Kabelo pressed play on the first one.
Molefe's voice filled the room — tired, strained, scared.
"They're watching me. Mandla knows I found the files. If anything happens to me… it wasn't an accident. Protect Dombi. She's the rightful heir. She's the only one who can stop him."
Dombi's chest tightened painfully.
In another recording:
"They killed her parents because they wouldn't sign the Orion transfer. They wanted full control. She needs to learn the truth."
And another:
"If Gugu acts strange… keep Dombi away from her. They got to her."
Dombi closed her eyes, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
Kabelo paused the audio.
"You want a break?"
"No," she whispered. "Next folder."
Folder 8: Personal Message to Dombi
She clicked it slowly.
A video opened.
Her father.
Alive.
Smiling softly.
Sitting in his office.
The same office now controlled by Mandla.
"Dombi," he said gently, "if you're watching this… it means they succeeded."
Her heart shattered.
"You have always been stronger than you think. Braver than you believe. And you deserve the truth. Don't let them take what belongs to you. Don't let them rewrite our story."
His eyes softened, full of the love she had been denied for years.
"I'm proud of you, ngwanaka. Fight smart. Trust carefully. And remember… Ntulis don't bow."
The video ended.
Silence filled the safehouse — heavy, sacred.
Dombi wiped her tears slowly, breathing through the pain.
Kabelo watched her with respect — not pity.
"So," he said quietly, "what do you want to do?"
Dombi closed the laptop gently.
Then she looked up, eyes burning with new fire.
"We take everything to the press," she said. "Every file. Every recording. Every lie."
Kabelo raised an eyebrow.
"And Mandla?"
Dombi's voice turned cold.
"Mandla falls next."