Read Online Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1) by Vincent de Paul - Free Book Online Page A

It was his friends who introduced Grace to him. He fell in love, forever he said, with her. He did everything to have Grace, and it was barely three months after their meeting when they tied the knot. It was the wedding of the year – and the Bridal Wedding Show of the decade.
    The bliss of marriage faded even before the honeymoon ended. He had businesses to do. She too had her businesses. They were always travelling, no time to start a family. He to the US, South Africa, the Middle East, and all other countries where his businesses took him to; her to Dubai, Pakistan, China, and all places that guaranteed her perpetual gallivanting.
    It was in one of those days when they bumped in to each other at the Amsterdam airport – unexpected yet pleasant surprise. He was glad to see her. He never made it to even shaking her hand, though. He wanted to hug her, give her the kiss of the decade when another man occupied the space by her side. The events of that day never left him – the hurt, the betrayal, the disappointment.
    More was waiting for him when he got back home. He had no employees, and no business premises. All had been reduced to cinders – courtesy of Grace as he came to know later. It was Edna who told him what Grace exactly did with her Nigerian lover – Oga had used juju on Grace. Though Edna stood by Job those dismal days, he never trusted women again.
    From the blue, Samson Ndolo from Kitui promised to raise him up to walk on the stormy sea. The two forged a business relationship, and became inseparable friends. Job got his life back, but trod more carefully. Within three years he was far much ahead from a single wholesale and retail trader. Sam saw to it, talked to his friends. Job always did what Sam and his friends told him to do, what they advised him to do. He never questioned them, nor stood one single time to prove a point; he trusted only them and no one else. His was a story of from grace to grass to grace. He owned several chain stores and supermarkets, Naiville Holdings.
    Events of the previous month at the airport flashbulbed on Job’s mind mixed with the grotesque images of Grace – the hurt, the betrayal, the disappointment. He couldn’t help thinking that somebody close to him was behind the mess he was in.
    Somebody was setting him up. Somebody wanted him down.
    The air around was full of people’s whispers promulgated by the press. The press knew of the shipment that Sam had told him about. His friends could, and would, not allow the press to publish their conjecture, and they could not afford an investigation. They needed a diversion. Job ran the scenario in his mind and saw the whole plan. At the moment the news were full of him and Edna. A businessman and his secretary arrested at the airport and detained for drug trafficking.
    But Job had crucial information that could sell like hot cake, and set him free – he knew what was happening at the heart of drug trafficking, knew the elusive, ghostly drug lords; the origin and point of sale, and how the narcotics left the country. All what he had to do was to seek a meeting with the new kid on the block of the Kenya Police, the celebrated incorruptible Kenya Police’s Anti-Narcotics Unit boss or NACADA. Then he would be enrolled on the WITSEC. Witness Security would then give him a new faceless life. Then the drug trafficking bubble would be burst.
    After their arrest at JKIA, Job paid an insurmountable amount of money to bail Edna and him out while police carried out their investigation. He could not help thinking that he was being sacrificed.
    Just then, the day’s dailies were delivered. It was on the front page of the two dailies; Kenyans sentenced to death over drugs in China.
    Drugs again.
    He hated the mention of the word leave alone reading about it. Since the airport incidence he tried as much as possible not to know more about drugs, but out of curiosity he read the story.
    Grace was amongst those to face the hangman’s noose in