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Here I bring you a thrilling story for free. Over the course of time will post the first ten chapters in parts. If you are the impatient type or you wish to read this story in full as please visit www okadabooks.com to download the full version of the novel which was recently completed and published just three weeks ago. Type the name, RUTHLESS BETRAYALS, in the site's search engine and you are good.

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Supernatural, good and evil


RUTHLESS BETRAYALS
By Eze Eke

Copyright 2016 @ Eze Eke

okadabooks Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any whatsoever without written permission from the publisher.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
EZE EKE [eze21eke@gmail.com]


PREFACE & DEDICATION
This book is a work of fiction based mostly on my life’s story, ambitions and experiences. Modeled keenly to suit the standards of modern readers, whether worldly, spiritual or godly of nature, this story is uniquely similar to my present circumstance in life but with the happy aspects yet to begin.
Horribly betrayed by family and friends, I am a lonely man, at rock bottom, struggling almost hopelessly to achieve my lofty goals which seem more impossible by the day. My only hope at this point in time is to find a helper, a wife, who through pure love will rekindle the zeal for life within me. But it is not just any woman. It is the heroine portrayed in this book, Lillian, a woman who suits my physical choice and knows what it really means to worship God and love her husband completely.
In a vile and corrupt world such as we live in today such a wonderful lady does not exist, but then, there is the fantasy world where everything is so easy and possible. This book originated from the fantasy part of my existence and is created majorly to give this perfect lady an honored place in my lonely heart for so great is my longing that I will live with her even in an abstract form.
I dedicate this book to this perfect woman, hoping and praying she becomes a waking dream, to come walking into my life someday very soon to embrace me with love and become one with me forever.

EZE EKE





Original source: http://www.kingezesblog.com/2017/06/ruthless-betrayals-chapter-1-episode-1.html

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CHAPTER ONE

PROLUGE
Saturdays, for most people and business establishments, was a rest day but an emerging business tycoon like me couldn’t afford such luxury. However, my office opened later than usual and closed much earlier for the day, and the dress code for my employees was casual.
Dressed in a colorful polo shirt and dark blue jeans I was in the air conditioned privacy of my office that morning, seated in behind my large, black, high polished desk, very busy indeed when the beep of the intercom shattered my concentration.
I glanced irritably at the damn thing. It was my secretary alright, and it wasn’t that long I’d arrived and given her instructions I wasn’t to be disturbed. I glanced at the wall clock on the opposite wall, ten thirty five, about an hour ago.

I reached out and hit a button on the consol. “This had better be good”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” said Susan quickly. “But Chief Okeke insists on speaking with you right away”

My annoyance evaporated at once. “Put him on”

“Yes sir”

I picked up the receiver and leaned back comfortably in my high backed, leather swivel chair.
Bexford Okeke was a very special friend and our friendship went way back to our days together in secondary school. We’d been best friends then and when I moved on to university – after a two year delay due to financial problems in my poor home – and met him already well-established among the rich kids there, our friendship continued. Of course coming from a poor home, devoted to my studies and all, I never quite fit into his high flying crowd but Bex and I were always good. He helped me out a lot with everything from cash and clothes to foodstuffs, and he did all this very quietly, never asking or expecting anything thing in return. We lost touch completely when he graduated two years ahead of me and disappeared to the United Kingdom, and then a few months ago, after over eight years long years, we walked right into each other at the Sheraton hotel restaurant, Ikeja. He was now married with a baby boy and his Port-Harcourt based billionaire father had bought him a big chieftaincy title and gifted him the family holdings in Lagos. With my new found affluence I had no difficulties blending into Bex’s circles this time. Tonight his lovely wife, Fiona, was giving an exclusive party at their palatial Victoria Island residence in honor of her London based elder brother who was getting married to a white lady. My name went automatically on the A-list of guests now.

A click came in my ear and then Bex’s voice.

“Larry?”

“Yeah, Bex, what’s up?”

“Oh man, you’re sure getting harder to reach these days, stalling high paid secretaries, hefty bodyguards and all“

I chuckled. “Sorry man. I’ve been a bit busy”

“Yeah, I gathered that much” he said sarcastically. “Your cellphone’s been switched off since yesterday“

“Come on, man, an ex-babe-killer like you should know that with Easter around the corner the chicks are calling non-stop for commitments”

He laughed. “I thought you had a separate line for that?”

“Hell man, some of these girls are something else, they always manage to get their hands on all the other numbers”

Bex laughed. “Now you’re beginning to understand why I retired permanently from the game”

We laughed together.

“What’s up? I asked again.

“It’s the wife. She’s been trying to reach you since yesterday, asked for my help this morning”

“Why?” I asked surprised.

He chuckled. “Not ‘why’, it’s ‘Who’.”

“Who?”

“One of her friends just flew in from Abuja and she’s suddenly come to the conclusion that both of you are a match made in heaven”

“You are joking” I said disbelievingly.

“Hell no, man. They’ve been taking about you non-stop since yesterday”

I sat up. “You’re really serious?”

Bex laughed. “Here’s a fact. Fiona instructs and I quote, ‘tell Larry he’s to bring himself here alone this evening and at least an hour early. He mustn’t bring any female companion because I already have the perfect match for him and I trust he doesn’t want to disappoint me’.”

Taking control of things, issuing orders and instructions all around in such a nice way that people couldn’t really refuse, that was beautiful Mrs. Bexford Okeke alright. Fiona had made it her pet project to get me decently married off. She’d made moves before but nothing as concrete like this.

“This babe, is she really hot?”

“Smoking hot and exactly your type, tall, high yellow, full in the front and excess in the backside, but man, is she a beauty! I swear to God if I wasn’t so satisfactorily marred I would have taken a go at her myself. Who were you planning on bringing tonight?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Had a really nice new chick lined up?”

“What about Nkechi?”

“Ah, I’m done there for good”

“Sorry to hear that. That girl was really something“

I sighed regretfully. “Yeah, she was that but I’m done with her”

“Sounds like you’ve already found a replacement in this new chick”

“You know me, man, I don’t waste time”

Bex laughed. “Sound like this one is quite something too”

“Ahhh, our elders say seeing is believing, man. She’s a deliciously mature first-class big booty. I’m talking a huge champion ass here”

Bex burst out laughing. “You and women’s backsides! Sounds like you haven’t touched this one yet”

“Hell man, she’s a decent Yoruba Muslim lady with a husband living oversea. It took me a whole month to break the ice and get her dancing to my tune. Today was supposed to be D-day, the plan was to bring her to the party tonight then straight to my place for the rest of the weekend”

“Where’d you even find a woman like that?”

“At an eatery in Ikeja. I nearly fell over a chair from starring at her swinging that huge ass like nobody’s business as she walked through the place. I’m telling you, man, this ass is a heavy duty killer!”

Bex laughed. “Still it took you a whole month to get anywhere near it. You must be getting old”

“To hell with you”

We laughed together.

“So what’s your reply? You up for Fiona’s friend tonight or not?”

“Oh I’m up alright. I’ll be there, all alone and early like she wants. Tell me a bit more about this chick so I’ll know exactly what I’m getting myself into”

Bex laughed. “I think I’ve already said enough. The wife explicitly forbad me saying anything at all, said it would ruin the surprise, and what a beauty of a surprise! I strongly suggest you hurl ass here and take matters into your own hands”

“Oh, I will”

“Good for you then, I’ll pass the word. See you later”

“You too, man”
I put down the receiver and gave the matter some thought but Nkechi kept popping into my mind.

Nkechi had been my favorite girlfriend for a record seven months. She was simply lovely, tall, light skinned and beautiful with a very well-endowed, plumpish, curvy body that drove me crazy with lust, and she knew exactly how to use that body to satisfy my sexual desires wonderfully. Nkechi was smart and sophisticated like well-born ladies come, a wonderful companion when in the right mood otherwise she was pure trouble. Two weeks ago Nkechi welcomed me home from a business trip with a blunt demand for an exclusive relationship leading to marriage and I balked. At thirty-three I wasn’t quite ready to settle down, certainly not with a highly jealous and overbearing woman with a quick fury temperament that could cool into long lasting brooding anger. A woman who had proven time and again that she could weld sex ruthlessly as a weapon to get her way. I foolishly told her my mind and in the row that followed Nkechi packed her things and left my house but not before smashing the 58-inch plasma TV in the living with an expensive bottle of wine from my bar.

My mind went to Bukky, the perfect replacement for Nkechi at the moment. Though not quite as beautiful or as light skinned, she sure had the overflowing figure and an easy going nature that guaranteed she would be no trouble at all. Bukky had nice height, a pretty face and a wonderful plump body featuring a vast prominent backside that was breathtaking.

A clear image of Bukky, rear-end first, suddenly popped into my mind and my manhood instantly became desperate. I picked up my cellphone from the desk at once, switched it on and put a call to her. There was no way I was letting that ass slip through my hands tonight.
“Good morning, Larry” came Bukky’s soft voice in my ear.

“Hello baby, how’re you this morning?”

“I’m fine, thank you”

“You sound better, beautiful is more like it”

She laughed softly. “Are you at the office?”

“Yeah baby, listen, a business emergency just came up and I have to rush down to Ibadan right away. Unfortunately, this means we can’t go to the party tonight as planned”
She sighed disappointedly. “Oh well, it’s okay, I—“

“No, it’s not okay, look, I’ll make it up to you by taking you to a bigger party on the eve of Easter next week”

She was silent a moment. “So that means I won’t see you till next week”

“Don’t push your luck, girl, I plan to be all over you tonight even if I have to frog jump all the way back from Ibadan in the dead of night”

She burst out laughing and I relaxed.

“When exactly are you coming back?” she asked.

“Very late tonight so I want you at my place to welcome me. I’ll send Ajuna to pick you up this evening, okay?”

“Okay” She replied easily.

“That’s my girl, see you later tonight”

“See you too and please drive carefully”

I chuckled. “Sure will, baby, bye”

“Bye”

Feeling very pleased with myself I switched off the phone again and put it aside then got busy with my laptop and desktop computers, cross-referencing with some documents folders open on the table before me.

About an hour later I sat back again with deep satisfaction and stared at the information displayed on the monitor of the laptop. Business was wonderful and the money was rolling in so smoothly now with zero losses despite the diversity of my investments. It was like mother luck was camped right in my pocket.

My mind drifted back to a time not too long ago when I had been as poor as a church rat, going days without a proper meal, and then further back in time.

My mind drifted back to a time not too long ago when I had been as poor as a church rat, going days without a proper meal, and then further back in time.

I was the only son and second of six children born into a very poor Igbo family living in the slums of the ancient city of Aba in Abia state, eastern Nigeria. My father, a veteran of the civil war, was a small time palm oil trader while my mother ran a small firewood trading business besides the building where we had our single room home, sharing a single toilet, bathroom and kitchen space with thirteen other tenants and their respective families. My parents invested everything in their children particularly me, the only son. Consequently, while my sisters attended cheap public schools I was sent to prestigious private schools – which was how I came into contact with rich people’s children like Bexford Okeke. I was the only child sent on to university; the University of Port Harcourt from which I graduated with honors in Mechanical Engineering and a diploma in computer science on the side. Seven years ago, after my NYSC in the northern part of the country I moved down south to the industrialized city Lagos with great expectations but a year later was still jobless and my high hopes were almost dead. It was out of frustration and starvation that I accepted a teaching job at a private secondary school. My peace came to an end a few short months later when my entire family perished in a ghastly auto accident while traveling to our home town in neighboring Imo state for the Christmas holiday, only my youngest sister survived with minor wounds. I borrowed heavily to give my family the last respect of a decent burial only to discover afterwards that I had inherited even more debts and family troubles I didn’t even know existed. I became a total mess after that burial, emotionally, mentally and financially. I lost my teaching job and then my girlfriend, my only comfort at the time, jilted me for a rich guy with a flashy car. That was final straw that pushed me over the edge to suicide. First it was a heavy overdose of sleeping tablets and raw alcohol but the pills turned out to be fakes so all I got was a terrible hangover the next morning. Right afterwards I tried hanging myself by the neck with a rope tied to the ceiling fan hook in my cockroach infested one room abode but termites had eaten up all the wood in the roof and the whole thing came crumbling down on me instead. That final close shave with death along with a coinciding phone call from my youngest sister complaining of her ill-treatment in my Uncle’s household changed my outlook to life completely and awakened a new zeal to succeed at all costs. I got another teaching job and struggled on for a few months until, one day, something happened that changed my life completely.

School was out on a brief holiday and I ceased the opportunity yet again to go hunting for the right job. Walking down a quiet street in Surulere, a major business and industrial district of Lagos, one afternoon after a brief downpour, a big jeep came up fast from behind me and hit a pothole hard, splattering me from head to foot with the muddy contents then sped on away. I just stood there helplessly staring after the rapidly departing vehicle, my clothes – white shirt sleeves, black trousers and shoes – completely ruined, when a sleek Nissan Ultima car approaching from that direction slowed and then stopped as it came alongside me. The dark window slid down a fraction and someone hailed my name from within. That was how I met Victor Uzoma again, my best friend during my NYSC days. He was based in Abuja now and only in Lagos for the wedding of a cousin. I attended that wedding with him dressed in an expensive new suit brought by him. A few days later when he showed me a complicated computer problem and I solved it easily he invited me to join him in business. And the business – internet fraud with a flourishing electronics marketing company as front. I moved back to Abuja with Victor and within three months bought a new car and got a nice place of my own.

Victor and I made so much money in our first year together that my fear of getting caught became very strong and Victor’s flamboyant lifestyle only made things worse. Victor lived like a wayward prince, enjoying himself to the full, trusting in voodoo charms for everything from protection to success in every aspect of life including business. His old ‘all play and littlie work’ nature was in full bloom and he lacked patience with very complicated issues in general. In our business once an account became too complicated he would brush it aside and move on to another. Long before the end of that first year my mind was already made up to quit the business as soon as I made enough money to live comfortably for life, and it was so that I started working those ‘complicated accounts’ secretly on my own, made private fortunes and hid them all away in numbered accounts overseas.

The months passed and I kept putting off quitting the business just a little longer, taking more and more elaborate precautions to ensure I never got caught; the money was just too good to walk away from. Everything was going so well until the day the shit hit the fan and, of course, it was Victor’s fault.

Victor was a king-sized womanizer and even his fiancée knew it. She’d caught him red-handed several times in her short reign yet she stayed, enjoying hell out of his money until Victor suddenly replaced her with a smoking hot undergraduate from the University of Abuja. The malicious bitch didn’t just walk away, she had somehow acquired some critical knowledge of our business and wasted no time in sharing it with the EFCC – the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, an elite branch of the Nigerian law enforcement agencies – down on us.
As luck would have it they hit our offices first, and on a day Victor and I were cooling off after a big windfall, so I was at home that fateful morning when the tip-off call came from one of the security guards in the building secretly on my payroll as part of an early warning system. I left the house instantly taking nothing except the clothes I wore and the briefcase containing my laptop and documents. I didn’t even take my sleek Toyota Camry car parked in the garage or go out the front gates of the private bungalow, I went over the back fence into the neighborhood’s sewer system and from there out unto the another street where I had a getaway car, a powerful dark windowed Volkswagen Taureg jeep, tarpaulin covered and waiting for the last six months. As I drove off the illiterate Hausa security man at the gates of my house sent a flash message to my phone like I’d taught him, the EFCC agents were at the gates.

Victor wasn’t so lucky. They caught him with his new fiancé in his big state-of-the-art mansion with all five expensive cars parked in a row. Victor shot himself dead before they got in to him.

I didn’t leave Abuja right away. I went to ground in a small hotel on the outskirts of town, contacted some underworld mobsters connected to Victor and gave them marching orders. I had lived in Abuja under a false identity and kept a very low profile; not a real friend, document or photo anywhere, only one person besides Victor could give the EFCC some real information about me – the girl who worked as secretary for Victor and I. The mobsters kidnapped the girl and brought her to me. I gave her a million naira and the simple advice of erasing her memory completely of me and disappearing into thin air. She took all three eagerly and the mobsters saw her off on her way out of town. Next I gave the mobsters instructions to go after Victor’s dethroned fiancée and teach her a lesson she would never forget in her life but they turned me down. Victor had been their friend, they said, so they were going to handle things their way. They kidnapped the girl right under the nose of the EFCC, gang raped and brutalized her to death then buried the body in a shallow grave in a bush. When they showed me a camera phone recording of the whole thing I didn’t say a word. I just got in my jeep and left Abuja for good, stopping at a big church in a neighboring state to purge my immortal soul of its weighty sins.

For three months afterwards I drifted through the southern cities of the country staying at different hotels and keeping a low profile until I got confirmations from paid contacts in Abuja that the case was dead. Then and only then did I make my move. Almost two and a half years after leaving Lagos a very poor man, I returned a very rich one and began to set myself up legitimately but only to a modest limit.

Today, barely three years later, my business had taken firm roots and was expanding rapidly. I now owned a big palm oil proceeding and trading company based in the eastern part of the country with hectares of Oil Palm plantations spread out in two states, an electronics imports and distribution company based in Lagos, major oil and gas interests, lots of stocks in international and local blue chip companies valued in the millions of dollars and other lesser investments. Lots of people worked for me now and well paid general managers ran my companies. I controlled everything from the air conditioned comforts of this office, with the assistance of an efficient staff, under the very legitimate umbrella of Phoenix Investments Nigeria Limited which occupied a suite of offices on the top floor of a nice two storey office building in the Apapa business hub of Lagos. I now travelled regularly on business trips in and out of the country, lived in a beautiful duplex in highbrow Festac town, drove three posh cars and, of course, had a long string of beautiful willing women. People who knew me of old marveled at my new found wealth. Even the pastor of my former church now said I was a man well blessed by God.

My mind was suddenly jerked back to the present by a beep from my laptop and I got busy again.

I left the office at noon and Ajuna, my right-hand man and bodyguard, drove me home. The drive took almost half an hour due to traffic and when finally my sleek white Murano jeep rolled up before the gates to the close were I had my residence the security men recognized it at once and let it through with their customary military salute. This was an exclusive close of only five duplex buildings, all large state-of-the-art duplexes of different architectural designs and all to the right side of the street – a high solid wall fence ran all along the left side screened off the private bungalows to the next close. Each duplex had identical twin right and left wing private houses, some of which had been touched up to the taste of their individual owners. Each wing was large with modest compound space enclosed by a secure high walled fence and two separate large gates opening onto the street. The duplexes the second and last duplexes stood out as the largest buildings. I lived in the left wing of the last duplex which I’d acquired directly from the real estate company that built the whole close and it was quite a prize – mansion-sized, yellow painted with a high black roof and two separate sets big black gates. My immediate neighbors in the identical left wing were a nice Indian family.

Ajuna pulled up in front of the gates with a beep of the horn and Mr. Moses, my ever alert middle aged security man, threw them open, smooth and fast. Ajuna drove through into the compound and parked carefully by the other two cars – a gleaming BMW 5 series and Pathfinder jeep parked under the large sheltering awning in front of the house. I got out easily from the front passenger seat where I usually sat and headed for the front door.

The whole compound was perfectly neat and tidy like I loved it, the tiled stone floor was swept clean and the flower beds freshly trimmed and watered down. I took the two front steps easily at a go and went in through the big Swiss double doors. The air conditioned interior of the well-furnished, large living room was a welcome relief from the terrible heat of high noon outside. I had called ahead and my only surviving sister, Chinelo, now a lovely robust bodied university undergraduate of twenty-three presently on a brief break, and Mary, a distant relative of about the same age serving as my housekeeper, were preparing the dining table together for my lunch. My sensitive nose picked the delicious aroma of the African dish right away and I felt the pangs of hunger at once. I hadn’t eaten much last night and then skipped breakfast despite a vigorous early morning workout exercise. I headed straight across the room for the dining table.

Acknowledging the respectful greeting of the girls, I sat down and attacked the food right off. It was my native Igbo Ogbono soup and pounded yam and it was wonderful. The girls quietly retreated into the kitchen leaving me to eat.

Ajuna soon came in with my briefcase and took it straight upstairs to my bedroom. He came back downstairs quickly enough and disappeared into the kitchen smart business suit and all. Ajuna loved good food, a lot of it, and had an impressive physic to prove it. He also enjoyed the company of the girls.

After the meal I went upstairs to my bedroom to sleep. The night would be a long one.


TO BE CONTINUED

This is amazing!

Please don't fail to drop your comments.

Whether critical or complementary, ti will be most appreciated.

Hmmm,nice story

The alarm of my phone brought me awake at four o’clock and I went straight into the shower then got dressed carefully in an expensive new black Spanish suit and expensive new Italian shoes to match, my prized gold watch went on my left wrist and the matching large gold ring on the fore-finger. Finally I stood and looked myself over in the floor to ceiling mirrors that covered a section of my bedroom wall.

Tall, fair complexioned and quite handsome with a broad-shouldered athletic build kept fit by regular workouts, I was a ‘proper lady killer’ as my friends would put it. My low cut black hair was brushed down on my skull in shinny smooth waves, my face was perfect, the suit was perfect and my reflection was perfect. I sprayed on some cologne then went downstairs full of confidence for the evening.
Ajuna was already waiting in the living room, dressed as always in a smart business suit. He was going on an errand for me before picking up Bukky so I gave him final instructions as we walked out together to the cars.

Ajuna was twenty eight, five years younger than me but much bigger. He was six feet five inches in height, a full head taller than me, and built like a powerful heavyweight wrestler. Two years ago when I first laid eyes on him, Ajuna was one of the common laborers working on the building site of my new mansion in my home town back East in Imo state. One look at his impassive physic and work rate, the intelligent features and cool headed nature; heard the fairly good English he spoke, and I hired him on the spot as a driver and bodyguard even though he didn’t know how to do either at the time. It turned out he was the son of a very poor widow who had been a close friend of my late mother’s and the old lady literarily handed him over to me completely. Ajuna turned out to be quite smart and a very determined quick learner so his refinement had been swift. He got his driver’s license in no time and excelled in all the special training programs I enrolled him to transform him into the perfect bodyguard. There was no sign of the tattered, semi-literate village laborer anymore, Ajuna was now more refined than most university graduates I knew, he certainly spoke better English, and his newly acquired combat skills made him very dangerous to all my enemies with or without a weapon. He was an honest to God fellow like his mother, reliable, hardworking and vastly loyal so he was fast becoming more of an indispensable right-hand man to me.

“…give her the VIP treatment so she’ll feel important. She loves suya, the grilled ram meat kind, so once you pick her up take her straight to the joint and buy her lots of it. When you get here set her up in my bedroom and make sure she is very comfortably. Give her whatever she wants, I want her relaxed and cool when I return, got it?”

Ajuna nodded. “Got it, boss”

We had come up to the BMW and he quickly got the driver’s door open for me. I got in carefully behind the wheels like King Edward and he closed the door. Mr. Moses threw the gates open as I started the soundless engine. It was just past five o’clock as I pulled out of the compound and went racing away.

Drop your comments on the story after reading please.

Victoria Island was clean across on the other side of the sprawling city of Lagos. It was one of the most prestigious residential areas of Lagos and indeed the whole Nigeria. It was bordered to the east by the even more prestigious Lekki cities and both where situated on a peninsula sandwiched in-between the breezy Atlantic Ocean and the Lagos lagoon. The islands of Ikoyi, another high luxury residential area, and Lagos Island, the most important business hub of Lagos, both formally seats of the old British colonial government that ruled Nigeria until independence in 1960, were the only access routes to Victoria Island. They were just across the lagoon from Victoria Island and were linked by two bridges which gave rise to the Lekki expressway that ran through the whole length of the peninsular. Ikoyi and Lagos Island were in turn linked to the Lagos mainland by three huge bridges, the First Mainland Bridge, the Second Mainland Bridge and the Third Mainland Bridge. The Oshodi-Apapa super highway bypassing Festac town was indirectly connected to Lagos Island by the First Mainland Bridge.

A terrible traffic jam at the entrance rump to the Oshodi-Apapa super highway delayed me an hour but once clear I put the speed of the powerful BMW to good use and made it to the Okeke’s palatial residence in Victoria Island by sundown. Lots of expensive cars were parked all along the street outside but security recognized my car right off and directed me to a reserved spot closer to the gates of the big Mansion. I parked between a big Mercedes S-class and an even bigger Navigator jeep then walked through the wide open gates towards the big house. The whole place was ablaze with light and the sound of soft soul music came from inside the big house. Two big men in dark suits stood flanking the big glass front doors, they held it open as I approached and I walked in.

The party was to begin by seven o’clock, in twenty minutes, so most of the guests were already there. The large high-ceilinged hall that was the main living area and the adjoining living rooms had been cleared for the occasion and the guests stood around in groups, drinks in hand, mingling and chatting, the sound of their laughter and chatter barely drowned by soft music filling the whole place.

I spotted Bex talking to a white couple and he saw me right off, detached himself immediately and came over.

Thirty-seven, good looking, average height with a full well-fed body and potting stomach, Bex was dressed expensively in traditional buba and trousers of an expensive soft yellow material with matching shoes and his traditional chieftaincy beads, long necklace and bracelets of large white beads were in place but not the tall red cap.

“Oh man, you’re way past due” he announced coming up.

“Sorry” I said smiling apologetically. “Got trapped in the mother of all traffic jams”
He laughed.

We slapped hands in handshake and hugged each other fondly.

“I thought you‘d changed your mind about this chick tonight” said Bex as we stood back.

“Not on your life!” I replied at once.

Bex threw back his head in delighted laughter then put an arm around my shoulder gesturing towards the big bar. “Let’s get you a nice drink first then go pacify the hostess. She’s quite displeased”

“So that friend of hers is already here?”

“Arrived ages ago” he waved away a uniformed waiter who stepped up with a tray of champagne glasses and began to stir me towards the bar then stopped. “Ah, here she comes already”

Fiona looking glorious in a floor length yellow dress matching the yellow color of her husband’s clothes, long black hair falling all over her shoulders and an abundance of glittering jewelry that must have cost the equivalent of many families’ annual income, was cat walking purposefully across the room towards us, glass of wine in hand, disapproving expression on her beautiful face.

Bex patted me on the back encouragingly and turned aside to speak to a waiter.

Fiona was a light complexioned luscious beauty with a law degree from the prestigious University of Lagos. She came from very wealthy backgrounds like Bex, was sophisticated as hell and a born socialite. Her father was Igbo while her mother was Yoruba and she spoke both languages very fluently but having lived several years in the United Kingdom she was a champion in the English language.

She held up a hand forestalling any excuses form me as she up. “You’re so late and I unambiguously specified you were to be here at least an hour early”

I gave her my best apologetic grin and a courteous bow “I’m sorry, your majesty, I had the stupidity of getting caught up in terrible traffic”
She burst out laughing and gave me a delicate hug, we touched cheeks and she stood back smiling like a million dollars. “You always have a plausible excuse on that honey coated tongue of yours. I hope you didn’t bring any woman here?”

I held up my hands fast. “I swear to God, I’m not even thinking of any woman, not even my mother”

Husband and wife laughed.

“There’s someone special I’ve set up to keep you company” said Fiona holding up the well maintained finger of a beautiful hand. “Just give me a minute to get her”

Without waiting for my response she turned and cat walked away again, heading across the room, superlatively elegant.

I watched her go a moment then responded to a wave from someone I recognized across the room. A waiter stepped up with a glass on a on a tray and I accepted it, took a sip and realized it was expensive cocktail mix.

I glanced at Bex. “You know Bex, you could have filled me in privately on exactly what I’m getting myself into here”

Bex laughed. “She explicitly told me not to tell you a thing and when it comes to the wife and the friend I invariably choose the wife. She’s certainly better looking, won’t you agree?”

“Bleep you” I said

He laughed delightedly.

Across the room Fiona walked up to a group of lovely ladies standing in a loose circle, chatting, laughing and sipping at drinks. She pulled one aside and began to talk to her, pointing repeatedly in my direction.

“That’s her. Estella Maduike”

I was surprised. “Maduike? As in Tiffney Maduike?”

He nodded.

“They look nothing alike” I said.

“That’s because they’re cousins. This one’s been living up in Abuja and according to Fiona, she’s just been through a very disappointing relationship, came down here to chill a while with her folks who live in Maryland. Quite stunning isn’t she? Remember to look surprised when Fiona makes the introductions or I’m dead”

I barely heard what Bex was saying as I stared at the two women now coming across the room. My gaze was fixed on the tall, light skinned lady cat walking perfectly beside Fiona. She wore a long black dress that set off the curvy perfection of her voluptuous full figure with matching black high heel shoes and a rich mass of curly long black hair fell all over her shoulders. She was remarkably beautiful even from a distance and getting better as she came closer.

Both women came up and Fiona made the introductions with a flourish.

“Larry this is Estella Maduike, Tiffney’s cousin and an old friend of mine. Estella, Larry”

Estella Maduike gave me a polite smile and I was in trouble. Our eyes locked as I took her hand in mine and all the charming words in my head deserted me.

“Hello” I managed.

“Hi” she replied in a beautiful soft voice, smiling.

This was Africa, land of the full figured woman. Lots of women had a pretty face and a nice curvy body. You admired them and you forgot them but there were those ones you never forgot even if you got clobbered on the head with a hammer. Estella Maduike was such a woman. She was drop dead gorgeous from head to feet; face and glowing light complexioned skin like a world class beauty queen, robust curvy body a perfect figure eight knockout; full breasts, narrow waist, wide curvy hips with a generous backside.

“Larry, I can trust you to take good care of my friend, can’t I?” Fiona was saying.

I suddenly realized I was staring at Estella, still held her hand. I released it and struggled to regain my composure fast.

Fiona was smiling and Bex was grinning,

I managed a smile. “You can trust me, Fiona. I’ll be nice”

Fiona’s perfect white teeth flashed in a broadened smile and she linked her arm with her husband’s. “Come on, honey, let’s leave them alone. We have guests to attend”

As they moved off I turned again to Estella and we stared at each other. She appeared as affected by me as I was by her but more controlled as women usually are. Our eyes locked again and the soft soul music seemed to fill the air around us. She took an unhurried sip form her wine glass without looking away from me and I found myself doing the same, drinking from my wine glass.

We stared at each other again and I struggled to find my voice.

“Why don’t we go and find someplace quiet out by the pool and get to know each other better?” I said.

She seemed to consider that for a moment and a beautiful hand with well-maintained long glossy red fingernails brushed back the hair from her
lovely face with a graceful movement.

“Alright” she said finally, her voice soft and lovely.

As we moved off I put a hand on her waist guiding her ahead of me and it went unchallenged.

Never had I felt so much pride and pleasure in the company of a woman. Estella was very sophisticated, cool and confident like only a very beautiful and intelligent woman can be. Her extraordinary beauty and full sexy figure attracted male attention like a magnet but she couldn’t have cared less. She had eyes only for me and me alone. I didn’t believe in love at first sight at all, lust at first sight was more like it, but by the end of that party when Estella Maduike bade me goodbye and left with her cousin I was helplessly smitten.

It was near midnight when I got home and Bukky was waiting in my bed. Making love to her my mind was busy doing the same to Estella which was a good thing too because Bukky, though yielding, turned out to be completely unresponsive to sex. She just lay there like dead wood while I nearly killed myself trying to satisfy both of us. I finally gave up on her and concentrated on personal gratification. I made love to her twice before dropping off to sleep feeling cheated.

Early the next morning, Sunday, I left Bukky still sound asleep in my bed and went off to the club having given Ajuna instructions to get rid of her permanently.

Estella played hard to get for four days before allowing me take her out to dinner on Thursday, the night before Good Friday. Our relationship blossomed very fast from there. We spent Good Friday and then Saturday together hitting one lovers spot after another then on Easter Sunday we flew to Port Harcourt to see a big concert and ended spending three days locked together in a hotel room. The affair had gone on for about two month when Estella announced she was pregnant and I wasted no time nor spared any expense in marrying her.


Estella and I didn’t live happily ever after as fantastic love tales go but we certainly did for a few months right until the day she poisoned me and dis

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snowytee:
Feed me more

OK sir
CHAPTER 2 .......Loading

Eze2000:
OK sir

CHAPTER 2 .......Loading

Boss,you are doing very good.Keep it up,may your ink never dry up

CHAPTER TWO


ABOUT TEN MONTHS LATER

Slowly. I came awake from deep sleep slowly.

When I opened my eyes and became aware of my surroundings I was completely confused. I expected to find myself lying on the high bed of the private hospital room in which I had spent the last two weeks instead I lay in the big cozy bed of a big, pleasantly lit, air conditioned bedroom.

Where the hell was I?

I pushed myself up on my elbows looking around carefully. I saw yellow walls, shiny dark marbled floor, to the left yellow and gold curtains with brown overhanging cut out daylight form a window leaving the room filled with soft light form golden side lamps, a large floor to ceiling wardrobe was to the right and directly across the room was an empty dressing table, its wide mirror a reflection of the room and the bed in which I lay.
Something suddenly clicked in my mind and I realized this was the guestroom of my own house, and then all the memories came flooding back. I lay back against the pillows and closed my eyes.

After eight horrible days in hospital, two of them in coma, I had been discharged yesterday evening and Ajuna brought me home. First thing I did was gather up the last of Estella’s personal belonging, that which she had left behind, and every other thing that reminded me of her, framed photographs, whole albums and even decorative items. I piled them up in a heap at the back of the house, put fire to them and watched them burn. Afterwards I ate a little food and took my medications then Ajuna helped me upstairs to bed. But I had chosen to sleep in this bedroom, the guest bedroom, instead of the master bedroom where Estella and I had lived together as man and wife for almost a year.

I lay very still in the bed a while fighting to keep the memories at bay and control the flood of emotions – the anguish, the pain, the emptiness, the frustration, the rage. I finally gave up, threw aside the covers and climbed out of the bed. A wave of dizziness hit me as soon as I gained my feet and I stood still a moment for it to pass then crossed the room and went into the bathroom. I relived myself and brushed my teeth with the new toothbrush and toothpaste I found there, washed my face and toweled dry with the big new white towel on the rack then stood and studied my pajama clad figure in the wall to ceiling mirrors.

I looked like hell and felt worse, my eyes were sore red and there were new lines in between my brows. These last week had taken a heavy toll, I now looked older.

I went back into the bedroom and out through the other door into the wide hallway. The house was very quiet and no one was about. I headed for the stairs and right as I got to it my hypersensitive nose picked up a whiff of Estella’s expensive perfume that stopped me momentarily in my tracks and my stomach turned in revolt. I glanced involuntarily at the big door on the other side of the stairs. It was the door to the master bedroom. It was closed.

I gathered myself together with some effort and went downstairs.

The strength hadn’t returned completely to my legs so I had to lean on the railings a bit. Downstairs in the living room the large wall mounted plasma TV was on but mute and Ajuna, in jeans and t-shirt was sitting on one of the long white leather sofas more interested in his cell phone. He became aware of me as I got to the bottom of the stairs and got quickly to his feet coming forward as if to assist me but stopped as I waved him aside.

“Good morning, boss” he said watching me carefully like a hawk.
I walked past him, went starlight to the nearest armchair and sank down into it with a sigh of relief, relaxed back and closed my eyes breathing deeply.
“A little tired?” sounded Ajuna’s voice after a moment.

“Yeah” I replied without opening my eyes.

“You didn’t eat well yesterday. Let me instruct Mary to prepare your favorite breakfast immediately”

I opened my eyes to look at him. He stood close by watching me with a worried frown.

“Lots of onions” I said.

The frown cleared at once and he nodded. He brought the remote controls over to me and hurried off for the kitchen.

I closed my eyes again and sat very quietly for a long while, breathing deeply.

“They found her jeep last night” came Ajuna’s voice suddenly.

I sat up at once. Ajuna stood leaning on the back of a sofa close by. I hadn’t even heard him return.

PLEASE do remember to leave a comment people.

Eze2000:
PLEASE do remember to leave a comment people.

Boss,am here keep up the good work.How did he detoriorate to this?

snowytee:
Boss,am here keep up the good work.How did he detoriorate to this?

Right
i'm back but not here. come to the literature section.


Click on this link to enjoy.

https://www.nairaland.com/2941054/ruthless-betrayals-story-love-betrayals


Cheers

its a hit

IsaacBuchi:
This is amazing!

come to d literature section to read more

Eze2000:
Right
i'm back but not here. come to the literature section.


Click on this link to enjoy.

https://www.nairaland.com/2941054/ruthless-betrayals-story-love-betrayals


Cheers

Don't take my word fro it. Click and see this killer story.