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Hi, family.

This is the end of book one. Tobe and Akwaugo's story.

There are loose ends to tie, I know, that is why there will be book 2 of this story.

"Nwamaka and Mezie's Story."

I have not started it fully yet. Just drawing outlines. You will be the first to know and the story will start here.

Thank you all for your love and patience with me. I will always say that Nairaland made me. You people brought the best of me and now I am a multiple published writer and a two-time Amazon bestseller

Meanwhile. My latest celebrity marriage romantic comedy novel is live on Bambooks. Please, show me, love. Stroll to Bambooks, look for Paradise, or click on the link below

https://bambooks.io/Book/share/Paradise/14781

Download Paradise, rate me, and drop your reviews. The best way to support a writer is to download her works on available platforms.

I love and cherish you all.

Episode 41

28th December 2007

“…with this ring, I thee wed. with my body I thee worship and with all my worldly goods I the endow…”

Tobe couldn’t help shedding a few tears as he read his vows to her.

Unplanned. Unsuppressed. Sniffling couldn’t hold the ocean of sweet emotions in him.

It was a garden wedding, held upon a day of blue skies and sweetly rising breeze. Love and flowers formed a backdrop and a canopy over their heads. At the end of each seated aisle, a scented candle hung on top of a decorated long base. Spread down the aisle was a thick white rug with silken layers of rose petals, bright and soft, creating rainbow stepping stones for Tobe and his bride while the wind carried the delicate perfume into the air.

It was nothing like the multi-million naira wedding he’d planned earlier, but it didn’t matter. This was what Akwaugo wanted, to be wedded here- in this countryside garden- with Father Theo as the officiating minister, and he was glad to oblige as long as she would become his at the end.

His heart swelled as he looked at her. She was his at last- not that she had never belonged to him, Tobe was a man who’d believe that once the bride price was paid, his woman was all his, but Akwaugo had a different view, even when she had stayed with him all those whiles, she had never agreed that she was his wife until now.

Now, she has surrendered to him as a bride. No restriction by tradition or oath sworn to another man. Was he worthy of her? Could he make her as happy as she deserved? As far as he was concerned, Akwaugo- his goddess, deserved unending happiness and he had always feared that he may not give her enough.

Then, she slid the ring into his finger amidst cheers and thunderous claps, their eyes met and all doubt was swept away in a glad certainty.

Oh, no. She is going to cry, Tobe thought as her lips stretched, pushing her flushed cheeks up. Her eyes moist with tears and affection. She looked so vulnerable- yet, so divine in her gorgeous wedding gown.

“Akwa,” he muttered with every warmth in him, reached for her cheek, wiped away tears, and gathered her into his arms. “You are mine; nobody will take you away from me.”

“Yes, Tobe. Nothing will ever take me away from you.”

With a satisfying sigh, he tightened his arms around her and gave her neck a gentle kiss, cupped her face, and took her lips.

He tasted the strawberry flavor of her lipstick as he kissed her gently. And then, as if trying to assure himself that this was really happening- that she was standing there as his lawfully wedded wife, he reached deeper, harder.

Tobe had known from the day he met her that she was the woman meant for him- it was written in her eyes, that day had been magical- as if the universe had brought together two souls that were already betrothed.

Fear was their worst enemy. It had cut into their love, creating a deep wound that couldn’t heal- fuelled by the mistakes of the past.

But now…

“Obim,” she gasped when he released her.

Obim. Tobe loved the sound of that.

“Mr, Tobe. Please, allow me to say the nuptial prayers first, then you can eat her if you so wish.” The Priest said, bringing the couple back to the joyous event filled with guests from different parts of the world.

The ceremony was concluded with a cheerful song as they recessed back up the aisle- her hand tuck in his, their other free hands waving and shaking friends, families, and business partners.

“You have less than forty minutes to bid all the farewells,” he whispered into her ears.

“Why, what is going on?”

“We are getting out of here.”

“How, to where?”

“To show you the world- okay, a little of it.”

“I have to get Ola and Ariel ready then…” She made to pull her hand off his.

“That wouldn’t be necessary. Martha and favor will take care of them while we are away.”

“We can’t leave them all alone.”

He picked a petal off her face, planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Nne, you worry so much. Can you trust me now as your husband? When I tell you that I have everything under control- can you not doubt?”

She nodded. “Yes, my husband. Though sometimes it's difficult not to get worried, but I will try.”

“Okay. That is what I ask for.” He looked over her head, “Okoye approaches, with your father,” he chuckled.

“I doubt if we can be able to get out of here in that forty minutes.”

*
Three hours later and they were on their way to Paris.

“So, how do you feel about marrying an ogbanje, whose spiritual family is capable of reducing a mighty man to a vegetable.” Her smile spread slowly as she edged towards him in the sleek interior of his newly acquired private jet.

Her formal husband was brought back to the village- as good as dead. Some villagers secretly blamed her for the man’s predicament- few even warned Tobe to stay away from her as she would be his undoing.

Her crime was possessing an extraordinary beauty that some of them in the village were still skeptical about, and getting married to a selfish dimwit.

He took her hands and brought them to his lips. “Ever heard of male Ogbanje?”

“Yes,” she managed to say between shivers. He loved the effect his touch had on her and how unclouded her responses were. She was a child on the inside- innocent, pure, with nothing to hide.

“That is what I am, we belong to the same coven.”

Her laughter was like a ripple in a still pond after a stone has been thrown in. The more he watched her doubling over while tapping her right leg, the more his lips twitched until he dissolved into a puddle of laughter himself.

He loved the sound of their joy, the feelings that swirled around them, the brilliant happiness in her eyes, the fact that she was his- forever.

When they were calm, he looked her in the eyes and asked, “Do you regret all this? Me finding you and now you are my wife?”

“No. but there’s going to be gossip. Plenty of it.”

“There has always been gossip. You know this.”

“Yes. And we made it through it all.”

His hands skimmed up to her back and into her hair in the way he knew she loved.
Her mouth lifted to his, opened for his. “You know we are not alone here; the attendant may walk in on us.”

“She only comes in when I buzz her.” His mouth stayed busy as he tightened his arms around her buttocks and scooted her closer.

“Where are we going, you haven’t told me yet.”

He chuckled against her throat. “Nne m, trust me to give you the honeymoon you would never forget.”

“Okay.” She let him ease her back on the generous plane cushion. “Ike on a agwukwa gi? Are you not tired?” She asked as his weight pressed her deeper into it. His fingers parted his blouse exposing her bra cupped breasts as she arched to his touch.

“Ona ejukwanu for? I will never get enough of you.” He lowered his head, nipped here and there. “I want to have you here, lets make this new jet reek of our joining, claim ownership of it with our lovemaking.”

“I don’t know, Nkem. Someone may walk in.”
But her body said otherwise. He felt her heat, the demand of her body. For pleasure. For sensation. He thought it stunning to watch her, the flickers of pleasure and tension that played over her face.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“Huh huh.” She shook her head.

“Good, because I am not ready to do so.”

He pulled her up until she sat astride him, her arms wrapped around his neck. With his mouth, he swallowed each of her moans that trembled from her throat. Thank God the bulky wedding gown was gone, she had on her a blouse and knee-length flared skirt. His hand slid inside, raced up her thigh, and grabbed her pantie.

They need to be with her, to join body to body was so overpowering. She understood his hunger and made to stand but he held her back.

“Let me remove my panties.”

“It doesn’t prevent anything.”

With her weight still on his laps, he thrust his hips up, and with one hand- while the other held her, he pulled his short down, settled back, and moved her closer. His fingers shifted her pantie and he filled her, shuddering when her walls clenched his length.

“Otu gi ato ka, you pu**y will be the end of me,” he murmured against her neck as she panted out his name.

“I want you to move, Asa m. meh mu ihe a, Amu a bu nke gi. This dick is yours, ride me crazy, my love.”

And she did. Slowly at first. As if she wasn’t sure if she was doing it right. He kept stroking and squeezing her butt cheeks, encouraging her and whispering into her ears. Then she came alive- as if something else took over her. Her hips pumped, faster, her grip around his neck tightened. But he realized she was suppressing her moans.

“Asa m, I don’t want you to be quiet. I want to hear your loud moan, give me the hard scream while you pleasure yourself with my di*k.”

She loosened her lips and moaned in Igbo. It turned his head- her erotic plea in the local dialect.

“Tobe, igbugo m. Mebe m ya.”

It made him want to laugh. She was the one f*cking him hard, yet she was accusing him of trying to kill her with sexual ecstasy.

Then he felt a frisson of pleasure all of his body, the intensity increasing with her every pump, hitting him like an overstoked furnace.

Tobe grunted his helplessness and grabbed her waist, from underneath, he rammed her hard and fast. The clenching of her walls around his rod encouraged him and when he felt her nails dung in the flesh of his shoulders and she let out a guttural moan, he knew she was close.

“Beg me to f*ck you hard, yo mu ka m nye gi ya?”

“Biko nu, please, Obim.”

That was enough. With three more thrusts, he brought her to a long, glorious orgasm that poured all over his member. Stunned and helpless, she collapsed on his body while he continued thrusting until exploded beneath her, pouring himself into her.

They stayed in that position for a while catching their breaths and stroking each other.

Then, she spoke.

“They heard us.”

He laughed.

“They will be looking at us like two indecent people.”

“You are so innocent. And I like that about you, my wife.”

She slapped his chest and with a long, glorying sigh, she slid down.

“Let me take care of that,” he said and scoop her off the floor. Together, they both headed to the fully enclosed lavatory where he would take his time to give her a sensual bath while his hands strayed here and there.

Two
Lucas

HITCHED RIDE. SCENE 3, TAKE 11.

Take 11. Take fucking 11 and I still couldn’t get it done.

I am Lucas Opeyemi. I don’t do a scene more than twice. Heaven forbid three times. When that happens, it's someone else’s fault - the directors, the gaffers, whatever. It’s the reason I am one of the most sought-after actors in the industry.

Eleven.

Had I grown old and clumsy that I couldn’t even remember my lines?

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and swore silently as I cast my eyes on Ana who was laughing at my expense. She was supposed to be my lover in this movie, but the chemistry between us was non-existent. Or let’s just say… she wasn’t playing my game.

Acting with a young heroine has never been a problem. In fact, the younger the better. But Ana had turned down the invitation to dine in my suite and savor the combusting tools required for igniting the chemistry sorely needed to move the shooting forward.

Ana’s shrill laughter wafted to my ears, forcing me to turn to where she was - surrounded by both the director and crew members. She was good. So good. No one gave a damn about me on this set.

I rubbed my nose as my gaze lingered on her. She reminded me of Julia Okoye when she made her debut in the industry - heartbreakingly pretty, self-assured, snobbish Julia. It took me time, but I eventually humbled her in all ways possible.

My dick stirred, and I licked my lips, recalling those scenes rather than the ones on this frustrating movie set.

“We are back on set in twenty minutes,” the director yelled, to my relief.

I stood up, snatched a face towel from the shoulder of the prop guy, wiped my sweaty palms, and threw it back to him.

“Don’t be hard on yourself, man. You are still the star of the movie.” The director placed a condescending hand on my shoulder. “It happens. You just need to calm down.”

He was gone before I could mutter ‘F*ck off.’ Aside from gulping down cans of energy drinks and screaming orders, what did he know about working one's ass off to get a script acted out perfectly?

Walking off the set, I ran through a mental check of all the possible places I could spend my free time. Twenty minutes wasn’t a long time but I needed solace, from the annoying cast and crew members. Anywhere as far away as possible would be welcome at the moment.
They could wait till eternity. In fact, it would be my pleasure to have them wait.

It was time they realized their sweetheart, Ana, would not fetch them as much money as I would. Casting Lucas Opeyemi meant having the highest-grossing films in cinemas and major streaming platforms outbidding each other for the rights. Who would queue up at the cinema to view Ana Nwachukwu? Big breasted, pale skinned Ana that would turn into another attention-seeking Nollywood starlet after one big break. Even if she crawled into my hotel room and begged for it, I wouldn’t f*ck her... Mmm, maybe if she begged, I might reconsider.

I was the hottest male in the industry, forty, a little over six feet, with a bald head women loved to run their hands over. My sex appeal got me money, fame, and a certain kind of power, that made my peers green with envy. For the past six years and running, lifestyle bloggers declared me the sexiest thing Nollywood had after Richard Mofe Damijo retired from playing Nollywood’s bad boy. His other contender - Ramsey Nouah had dropped the title six years ago.

Yes. They had to wait for me, or they could go f*ck themselves.

Forty-five minutes later, I was back on set, turning deaf ears to the grumbling of the crew members. I laughed out as I glanced towards the frigging director, his pale freckled face had already turned red.

“Ready to go on this last take?” Sunny questioned. I liked it when he used ‘the last take.’ It certainly would be the last.

“Make-up!”

The girl hurried to my side fast and flashed me a shy smile. I hadn’t seen her before, but she sure knew how to give a star the right treatment - I gazed at her cleavage, as she dabbed off sweat, applied powder on my face, combed my brows and added a little touch of gloss on my lips.

My lips were still pouted as I brushed my fingers over her breast and gave her perky nipple a cursory pinch. Giggling she looked around furtively, before drawing closer, thrusting her bosom into my face.

“Sweet girl,” I crooned, “come over to the hotel later today and show me how you would like to treat Lucas.”

Nodding with enthusiasm she hurried off.

“Rolling the camera in five minutes!”

“Are you ready, Lucas?” The director asked, his lips curled.

Asshole.

One
Lekki, Lagos
Muyiwa

WHAT DO YOU BRING TO the table?

Oh honey, you got it all wrong. I expect the table to be full by the time I arrive.

Nonsense. You expected me to have a coy answer when luxury is something I’ve craved all my life. Waking up in a king-size bed, pressing a button to open the electronically controlled window drapes, being served exotic meals daily, and having employees kneel while addressing me, knowing I have the power to lay them off when I get tired of seeing their faces, now that's a life worth living.

I used to be embarrassed when people called me a materialistic lazy money-grubber, not anymore. Not anymore durling. I am unapologetically materialistic, and I don't fancy the idea of working my ass off just to live the life I so desire. I prayed for this money and the luxury that came with it.

Rubbing my eyes, I made to get up from the bed but fell back, closing my eyes in pain. It’s as though someone hit my head with a baton. Muttering curses, I massaged my temples. I should consider quitting partying, I hissed, gingerly turning my head to the side.

What is that?! Or who?! I furrowed my brows, confronted by the sight of a shirtless young man clad in dirty jeans, pissing a perfect arc into my mosaic-tiled swimming pool.

Scampering to my feet, headache or no headache; I had to know who let a mad man into my compound and why! I grabbed the cordless telephone off the table, hitting the speed dial.

“Get in here now!” Chekwa, my middle-aged housekeeper, better have a suitable explanation for this thing my eyes just saw. What! Only an slowpoke pees in a swimming pool. Yes. An slowpoke!

Being the wife of an iconic movie star did place me on a pedestal and there are things I do not tolerate. I’m a living enigma, waiting for a documentary to be done based on my marriage and my interpersonal skills.

Most Nollywood wives predicted my marriage would be over in just a year - ‘Lucas Opeyemi doesn’t stick to a woman for more than two years’, which was the longest his marriages had ever lasted. But when we made it to the third anniversary - a record, which some ladies felt I deserved an award for - they suggested there was something special about me.

From the stories that hovered around Lekki ladies' gossip centers, his ex-wives had objected to his skirt-chasing and with the objection came banishment.

Of course, I had something special alright. Patience. And a knack for pretending not to know when my celebrity, iconic husband made pussy appointments with the wives of big movie directors and actresses alike. I was smart, smarter than all of them. It’s Nollywood after all, someone was always shagging someone else’s husband or wife. The key to maintaining sanity was to pretend you aren’t aware of shit.

With my eyes still on the slowpoke who had completed his pee-task and was now luxuriating on my favorite sun lounger - as if he owned it - I forced my arms through my maroon, marabou silk robe, then slipped my feet into my furry slippers.

Chekwa appeared by my door, calm, indifferent, oblivious of my plight. Chekwa was the only member of my household staff who didn't scamper like a rabbit when I barked or threatened.

“Who is that man by the pool?” I pointed. “Who let that crazy stranger into my compound?”

Undisturbed, Chekwa followed my finger to the figure outside the window, murmured something under her breath, then moved into the room and began collecting clutter.

What was wrong with this nincompoop? “Call the guards or something!” I clapped.” Get that man out of my house!”

“You employed him yesterday and asked him to start working today. He is your new employee.”

I blinked. “I did?”

I sounded moronic to my own ears; she rolled her eyes and ignored me, continuing with her task.

How could I forget such vital information? I looked at the pool again, trying to put two and two together, then shook my head when it wasn't clicking. “Well, he won’t last a day in this job. Look at him sprawled like an overfed cat on my chair.”
She shrugged. “Not my business.”

Chekwa didn’t like me. I noticed this the first day Lucas brought me to this mansion. The saggy-faced woman had looked me over and mumbled an insulting “Okay,” when I was introduced to her.

“Tell that Orangutan I want him out of my compound, and he shouldn’t come back!”

Balancing lumpy arms on her large hips she stared at me for the first time that morning. “You are sacking him?”

I arched my brows, folding my arms. “Do you have any problem with that?” She knew better! I was the boss. The wife!

“You can’t do that, not today!”

Tsk. Tsk. I scrunched up my nose. This woman and her heavy Igbo accent.

“And why is that?”

“You dismissed the cook just two days ago.” She began, counting her fingers. “The cleaner has not returned since she went on leave two Saturdays ago, and your driver called this morning, he said his wife has a running stomach!”

“What of the gardener?”

“You sacked him yesterday.” My eyes widened in surprise at her blatant lie. “Before you left the house.”

“Oh.” That’s true. I did that.

Pacing from one end of the room to the other, I mumbled to myself, “Why is it so difficult to get loyal and sensible workers in Lagos? Employ them today, they go mad the next day.” I reached the faux marble fireplace opposite the bed then turned to stalk the other direction. “Look at that one out there, peeing inside my pool on his first day of work. My pool!”

I caught my reflection in the mirror as I walked back and gasped in horror. Oh no! Who was that stranger? A cat had eaten my hair, puked it, and let it dry in the sun. That’s what I saw staring back at me. Mogbe.

Yesterday’s expensive coiffured wavy pixie cut was ruined.

“You came in late last night looking like that,” Chekwa snickered.

I gave her a stink eye and turned back to the tawny skin-toned, crazy woman staring at me from the mirror. Oh, God!

My expensive hair...my beautiful expensive hair. Peering closely into the mirror to inspect the damage done to my hair, I remembered the event that had me looking like Ursula from the animated movie, ‘The Little Mermaid.’

What started as a celebrity ladies’ night out ended in a royal cat-fight rumble, with the crystal face of my diamond wristwatch shattering on the party floor and my hair…oh, my precious hair was pulled on by that two-face bitch - Montana.

I groaned, patting what I could of it down, then marched towards the bed and plopped down on the bedroom bench instead.

That girl, Montana, that cheap ingrate! What had I done to deserve a friend like that? All I did was bring her into the inner circle, and connected her to that sorry actor husband of hers, and boom, she turned around to disrespect me? To bite me where it hurts the most! Not just by shagging my Lucas - that I can swallow - but to rub it on my face!

Like I said, the key to remaining married and sane, especially to my kind of husband, was to pretend and do nothing. The sanity part gets tested when some ugly cock sucker mocks you because she had a taste of the royal dick. And that’s who Montana is - an ugly, horrible, backstabbing cock sucker with no iota of respect instilled in her.

Memories from the previous night flashed in my head. I had stormed in, ready for a fight. He took one look at me and laughed, that was the moment I knew the story of my cat fight with Montana had reached him.

“What were you thinking? Montana is a kid. You let a child disrespect you like that,” he’d said, shaking with laughter.

“A kid?!” I bared my teeth, perspiration threatening to form sweat beads on my forehead. “You call her kid, yet your dick found her slutty, dirty pussy!” I eyed his irritating laughing frame.

I had no regrets saying what I said the night before, in the presence of our household staff. If Lucas could stick his rod inside Montana’s hole, he should deal with the shame.

My fists clenched at the memory of the lowlife who had prattled on about the size of Lucas’s dick throughout the party. I hadn’t come up with the best way to deal with her, yet.

“Where is my husband?”

Chekwa folded those lumpy arms over her chest.

“He didn’t sleep in this house last night, did he?”

She clicked a fingernail repeatedly on the edge of a table, then glanced at me with her chin jutting out. “No.”

Why he did this every time, I‘ll never understand. My shoulders drooped. I got up and sat on the bed’s edge, hands dangling between my legs. As much as I pretended that his actions didn't affect me, I still wanted him by my side. Maybe I should have done more to keep him tamed at the beginning of our marriage.

“So…” Chekwa asked impatiently.

I looked up, my poker face in place. “Call him and let me know where he is.”

“That is not my job.” She pursed her lips.

True. That job was exclusively reserved for me. Only that I didn’t want to talk to him, yet.

“Run me a warm bath and make me breakfast after that.”

“That is not my job either.”

“Then what is your job?!” I glared at her.

She tossed a hand in the air. “Overseeing other domestic staff and making sure they do their jobs.” The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened when she emphasized the word ‘their.’

“There’s no other member of staff in the house, according to you.”

“There is one by the poolside.” She tossed a glance towards the pool.

I stretched my neck, following her direction, true to her words, the slowpoke was still there, staring into the pool as though someone was buried in it.

“And you have to employ three more,” Chekwa added, her lips pursed in a stubborn line.

“Why I still have you working here beats me,” I murmured, groping under the pillow for my phone.

“I am the only one who can tolerate you.”

“Ignore, Muyiwa ignore,” I muttered under my breath as I searched for Lucas’s number.

Chekwa reminded me of the grumpy old landlady in the Chinese movie ‘Kung Fu Hustle,’ always cackling with aggression like a hen whose eggs were being taken away, splurging tantrums for no reason.

I gave up trying Lucas’s number after being greeted with the annoying number is busy automated crap the third time and dialed his manager who picked immediately.

“Yes?” he barked.

“Sunny, is my husband with you? I have been trying to reach him all morning.”

“Muyiwa,” he exhaled. “Yes, he is. But I can’t give him the phone right now. We are busy…”

“I know. I just want to know where he is.”

“Uh… I will get him to call you back, I have to run now-”

“Please wait. Location… where are you guys?”

He hesitated. “We are currently at Ziroc Residence, Lekki. How long we will be here depends on your husband’s effort in getting this thing done.” There was an edge to his voice.

“Thank you, Sunny. Let him know I called when you get the chance.”

“I will. Happy anniversary by the way.”

Chai, my hand flew to my chest. Holy crap! How could I ever forget something as special as my wedding anniversary? What was wrong with me?

“Chekwa!” I yelled immediately the line went dead.

“I am still here, madam.” She hissed from the corner, then stepped into my view.

“Today is our wedding anniversary, you know that?”

She looked everywhere but at me. “I know.” The tapping of her foot on my polished granite floor irritated my teeth.

“Well, why the hell didn’t you remind me before?”

“It's not like the two of you are still in love. All you ever do is yell at each other.”

Chekwa was right. I couldn’t remember the last time we had a conversation like normal couples. Yelling at each other for hours seemed to be more satisfactory than lovemaking. Just last Sunday, we’d spent our morning screaming our lungs out - insults, recriminations, and accusations.

The harmony of our first two years together had vanished, now replaced with antagonism and ill-will.

“You are an idiot.” I hurled at Chekwa, as I walked into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard, a framed print sprang off the wall, crashing onto the floor. The shattering glass was jarring to my ears. “Get yourself down to the market and buy everything you need to make something special for my husband. Then drag that stray cat by the pool and put him to use,” I shouted from the bathroom.

I rubbed my chin as I stared at the bird nest on my head. We were a feted and adored celebrity couple celebrating their wedding anniversary, we had to give our social media fans something to drool and aspire to. There’ll be other days to brood over the failure of my marriage or the disgrace of the night before.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, I had a whole new plan worthy enough to be the debut for a Nollywood acting career.

If you are just joining this family. I suggest you start from the beginning of this story so you can understand and enjoy the story better. meanwhile, I have started dropping 'Paradise' on another platform. Check that out also. https://www.nairaland.com/6773674/paradise-twin-bliss-resort-comedy#106211525

Paradise is a complete and published story on bambooks in case you would want to read it straight up.

Let's get this story concluded, shall we?

Episode 40- not yet rewritten and edited

Nnewi, Anambra state

“I thought going away would have solved it all. That you would get the message and leave me alone.”

It had been days since he’d chase after her and the baby from Lagos, down to Nnewi. The day he’d found her almost dead to the warmth of living, and when she was about to end it all- God had come through for them.

God. Deities. She wasn’t sure which one it was that saved the day, but she was grateful. That day had been a sign that her union with Tobe was meant to be.

“Well, it did nothing other than strapping you on this bed for the past six days, burning with fever, while I ran around like a headless chicken trying to save both mother and daughter!”

“I am sorry. I thought we had lost Ola and you would blame me for it.”

“We didn’t lose her, and wouldn’t have even lost her if you’d put your thoughts together and call me. For christ sake, I was one call away from you and my Doctor would have come rushing down. You know that already.”

That was what he thought? That what happened to Ola was something orthodox medicine would have cured? Onye Ocha bi nala igbo, A white man dwelling in a black man’s country, she thought.

Akwaugo watched him pace the hospital private room where she and the baby had been receiving care. He was angry- very angry.

“I am sorry, Tobe.”

“Don’t you ever tell me you are sorry. Akwaugo, why is it so easy for you to bolt each time there is an issue? Why do you keep running away?”

“I didn’t want you to suffer for what you don’t know.”

He was staring hard at her, probably thinking of what to do with her after this place. Then he came closer to where she sat on the bed, bent over until he was at the same eye level with her.

“I have never been so scared in my adult life. Knowing that you left unannounced- alone, with a dying child, you didn’t consider what it would do to me- losing you both.”

“I wanted to die with my child. There was nothing to live for without her.”

“What about me? What about Ariel that was so excited to finally have a mother? You never thought of what you would have cost us?”

“Any you came for me,” she muttered.

“Yes, I came. That is what lovers do. They go down to hell together. I guess you don’t understand that. The only kind of love you have ever known is a tough one- the kind your ex gave you, this new kind of love scares you away.”

His fingers, pressing hard against her shoulders were beginning to weigh heavily on her like the pains she saw in his eyes.

“I love you so fucking much, Akwaugo. You don’t understand how much I am willing to give up my all for you.”

She did. And it scared her that anyone would want to go that length for her, that was why she had always wanted to leave, to walk far away from him. Tobe was a good man who didn’t deserve any form of punishment from Mezie or the many deities she’d entangled herself with.

“I love you like I have never loved before, that was why I couldn’t stand anything happening to you.”

She saw his eyes softened. He sat beside her, with his hand, he pulled her head to his shoulder. “If your definition of love is walking away, then you have so much to learn, my darling wife. It's going to take some time for you to understand, but I know you will.”

No word was needed. Akwaugo was desperate to learn his kind of love- the one that comes with peace, hope and brightness. She was tired of running, of hiding, worrying about things she couldn’t control. She needed a home and that home was Tobe.

“My goddess. I can never let you go no matter what happens.”

“I am tired of running, I want to stay and grow old with you and our children.”

“You have no option, remember? You are my wife.”

As if he had been stung at the buttocks by a soldier ant, he sprang up, got to the other side of the bed and grabbed a bag she hadn’t noticed earlier. Her eyes stayed on him as he set plates and dished food out for her. “I was instructed to make sure you eat this once you opened your eyes today.”

“Eziokwu.” The sweet aroma of the assorted meat pepper-soup wafted into her nostrils, making her stomach rumble in excitement.

“Here.” He handed her a spoon. “Your mother threatened to take you away from me if I don't make you eat.”

Akwaugo scooped from the soup and supped, grateful that her appetite had returned with such voraciousness. She could eat a whole cow at the moment.

“Martha has been around since yesterday.”

“She came down to Nnewi?”

“Hmm. Favor arranged for her to come down… said you need all the help you can get.”

So much had happened to her in a few days that she didn’t even know those that’d walked in and out of the hospital room, and to think that she had not even asked of her daughter this morning sent a pang of guilt to her stomach, she dropped the spoon.

“It’s alright,” he said, reading her thoughts. “We all understand how sick you are and how much you need to rest.” He took her hand. “ Martha is very happy to help.”

“I am so grateful, to everyone. I can’t thank you all enough.”

“Wait until I tell you how many people that have been making my life miserable. Favor made me swear this morning that nothing would happen to you, and Okoye…that one threatened to cut off my head if anything bad happens to you.”

That made her laugh. Okoye of all people? Threatening Tobe, his benefactor? “My Father?”

“Left some minutes ago, didn't want to wake you up.”

She felt loved. “I can’t wait to get out of here, I want to go home,” she muttered.

“I want that too.” He shifted closer, his hands stroking her thigh, “I have missed you, so much that my life lost its sweetness.”

“Obim.”

“Asa m. the house has been so empty without you.”

“Okwa nu just a few days.” She giggled.

“Those few days had been like years to me. Imagine me planning the nasty things I would do with you when I return from South Africa, only for me to return and you are gone.”

“Obim, how do I make it up to you?”

“I will tell you how- will show you instead. But know that it is not going to be a one off ‘make up.’”

“As long as you will make me enjoy it.”

“Oh, you don’t want to imagine the enjoyment, my queen.”

Divepen1:
Romance Short Story

The Mask and Other Short Stories- Rosemary33- 3 votes (Winner)
The Loveless Night- Adeabdul2

And this too. This is super amazing. Thank you so much.

Divepen1:
Top Romance Writer
Milleademi- 3
Shewrites- 5
Rosemary-3
Casnova- 1
Tophero52- 61 votes
Kimberlywest- 135 (Winner)
Solomonbrown64-8
Sochey- 28
Moura7
Damselposh- 1

I am just seeing this, wow, congratulations to me and all the winners.

Prologue

Bodo Town, Gobota Island

THE WOMAN CLIMBED OUT OF the boat and waited for the girl to follow suit.

Bouts of coughing tore through the girl’s throat, hitching her breath as she inhaled the choking stench that was corroding her lungs.
“I am scared, Mama,” the girl croaked. Stumbling on what must be a rock, her water flask slipped out of her hand.

The woman paid her no heed. “Come, it’s time.”

“But the flask contains fresh water to quench our thirst!”

“Can you hear her? The mother of Hades, she beckons louder.” The woman had her eyes fixed on the forest, her lips held a sinister smile. She looked like one in a trance. “Come child, where we are going, we will not need earthly water.”

The woman strode into the forest with ease. The dark forest released a plethora of sounds as the two navigated the paths, not by sight, but by the woman’s sixth sense.

“Hurry!”

Though thirty, fear buckled the girl’s feet and made her tremble like a child. The more she tried to pick up her pace, the more the distance between her and the woman widened.

“Mama!” The girl’s voice echoed in the forest like a mocking cry. Abruptly, a chill grazed through her spine, making her shiver. Something was following her.

Whipping her head back, sounds of hushed whispering erupted around her. The trees moved and gradually took on human form. Mismatched eyes pushed out from the trunks. Wide, horrifying, staring at her blankly. She sucked her breath and stumbled backward, jamming her heels on the root of a tree.

Without warning, the root detached itself from the ground, curling around the girl’s legs.

“Mama!” The girl cried, yanking and thrashing to no use. The forest was feeding on her strength.

“Mama… Please.” She cried, her bottom lip trembling, eyes squeezed shut in fear. She cringed when something firm gripped her arm, pulling her to her feet.

The girl slowly opened her eyes to find the woman standing before her, face stern.

“Don’t look at the trees. You will never get out of here if you do.” The woman turned her back to her and continued walking. “Hurry, we are almost there.”

The path led into an even thicker forest with no sign of it ever being walked on, the girl kept up this time, hunching to avert her face from branches that scratched and tore her flesh.

“Hurry!”

She could hear the excitement in the woman’s voice and the sound of a rushing river as they walked deeper. A chorus of chants tore through the night as they arrived at the coven.

Her excitement rose too. Finally, she would get back what was taken from her. Mama said the dark power of the ancient ones had the answer she sought.

“Daughter of Ekwensu, the black cat that feeds on the fears of mortals. You suck the light from the Ancient Marula tree and turn it to darkness…”

The girl gave out an exasperated sigh. It was time to pay back the wrong done to her with the same tree the villagers adored.

Story Blurb

Lucas the handsome, charming, successful movie star has women falling at his feet. he's never been a one-woman man and his marriage to muyiwa is a mistake he ails to rectify.

Muyiwa, his devoted wife loves the lifestyle and fame that comes with being Mrs. Lucas. But when the heartbreak hits too far, Muyiwa takes a break at Twin Bliss Resort to mull over things and decides it's time to live on the edge.

Jealousy and fear tear Lucas apart when the tables are turned. can he win Muyiwa back and reclaim her heart? will he realize he still loves her or live the rest of his life full of regret?

CONTENT WARNING!

It’s nice to know you chose to read this book, however, before you go any further, here are some content you would find inside this book:

Sex/Nudity: several explicit sex scenes

Foul language: mild and infrequent

Others: infidelity, Dark villain, dysfunctional marriage, annoying characters

Heat level: 5/5

also know that this is an already published work. I published it on Amazon, Okadabooks and Bambooks last Saturday, so I will be posting some few chapters for your preview. if you want to get the whole story, then you have to download it on these bookstores.

your girl have to make small money na, ejoor tori olorun.

so, if you are ready, I am ready.

lets go!!!

extremelygolden:
Cc Rosemary33.

Congratulations for winning Nairaland Best Romance Short Stories Category Award for Year 2020.

You deserved it.

Kindly contact Divepen.

are you serious? I won this ���

rayvelez:
So good to see you back I know Paradise will be a sweet soup.

oh, it is.

metalgear11:
I dont know if it's her, but I saw a Rosemary Okafor on LinkedIn who fits her profile. She last posted about 3 months ago, and seems she's working on a book. If she's our dear Rosemary, then I believe this is why she's been away.

yes, please. It's me. I have been working on three projects which have been published.

The latest dropped on Bambooks yesterday. Thank you so much for your love and concern. My hands have been full all the while

@genius43

I've missed everyone, Kai! Let me check where I stopped with his neighbor's wife (I've received it sha)

Rosemary33:
Paradise Story Blurb

Lucas the handsome, charming, successful movie star has women falling at his feet. He's never been a one-woman man and his marriage to Muyiwa is a mistake he aims to rectify.

Muyiwa, his devoted wife loves the lifestyle and fame that comes with being Mrs. Lucas. But when the heartbreak hits too far, Muyiwa takes a break at Twin Bliss Resort - to mull over things - and decides it's time to live on the edge.


Jealousy and fear tear Lucas apart when the tables are turned. Can he win Muyiwa back and reclaim her heart? Will he realize he still loves her or lives the rest of his life full of regret?

https://bambooks.io/Book/share/Paradise/14781

I think it's good to go now.

Paradise Story Blurb

Lucas the handsome, charming, successful movie star has women falling at his feet. He's never been a one-woman man and his marriage to Muyiwa is a mistake he aims to rectify.

Muyiwa, his devoted wife loves the lifestyle and fame that comes with being Mrs. Lucas. But when the heartbreak hits too far, Muyiwa takes a break at Twin Bliss Resort - to mull over things - and decides it's time to live on the edge.


Jealousy and fear tear Lucas apart when the tables are turned. Can he win Muyiwa back and reclaim her heart? Will he realize he still loves her or lives the rest of his life full of regret?

https://bambooks.io/Book/share/Paradise/14781

genius43:
The full stop at the end of the link prevents the link from opening.

oh, let me repost again

Hi, I was gone for a while but back now. My latest romantic thriller "Paradise" just got published on Bambooks, Okadabooks, and Amazon, yesterday. Please check it out.


https://bambooks.io/Book/share/Paradise/14781

Okadabooks https://okadabooks.com/book/about/paradise/44642

Story Blurb

Lucas the handsome, charming, successful movie star has women falling at his feet. He's never been a one-woman man and his marriage to Muyiwa is a mistake he aims to rectify.

Muyiwa, his devoted wife loves the lifestyle and fame that comes with being Mrs. Lucas. But when the heartbreak hits too far, Muyiwa takes a break at Twin Bliss Resort - to mull over things - and decides it's time to live on the edge.


Jealousy and fear tear Lucas apart when the tables are turned. Can he win Muyiwa back and reclaim her heart? Will he realize he still loves her or lives the rest of his life full of regret?

As compensation for this disappearance. I will be posting the first six chapters of my latest book "Paradise" here for you all (Its already on bambook and it will not be fair to post the whole story here as your sister has to make small money Out of her hard works na

But I will finish the story we started last year "His Neighbor's wife." And will start another romance story for your enjoyment.

In case you don't want a half story or may not be patient enough for the weekly posting of "Paradise" few chapters, you can get the whole story from Bambooks

https://bambooks.io/Book/share/Paradise/14781.

Once again, thank you all for your patience and concern. Some of you were so worried and wanted to even call. I have been reading your comments since morning (I just opened this space today)

Thank you all so much my family.

Hi, everyone. It's been like how many years now?

I am so sorry I disappeared in action unannounced. I am terribly sorry.

I accepted an offer to write and publish two anthologies with a foreign publisher which was what I did throughout last year and earlier part of this year. By March, the same publisher came with another offer to be part of a book series "Twin bliss resort Novels" which I wrote the book 4 of the series.

"Paradise" a celebrity marriage romantic thriller. Which was published yesterday on Bambooks, Okadabooks, and Amazon (You have to check that out, seriously)

So, I didn't deliberately switch off, just that I needed to make small money. But my heart has always been here, you people are family.

I also went back to change a lot of things In "His neighbor's wife" as I plan to publish it on Bambooks too. But I won't forget that I haven't finished it here.

Though it will not be the same as the edited and rewritten one that will be published on Bambooks later.

Biko, my beloved family. You people should forgive me.

How are we all doing?

dawno2008:
Monitoring spirit���

Chapter 45

He knew his chi had wanted him to recover all he’d lost. Who said sacrifices don't work? Barely a day after his arduous journey to the forbidden forest of Okija, and it seemed as if the gods had suddenly awoken in his favor. Didn’t the priest tell him that there would be a sign which would confirm the acceptance of his sacrifice?

This was it.

“Where is my money?” He gritted.

Mezie saw colour evaporate from her face, warmth flew faster than dry season rain on the tarmac from her eyes, replaced with horror of recognition. Her lips quivered as she tried to mutter his name without success. Whatever was remaining of the air in her miserable lungs got stuck in her throat.

“Onye Oshi. Thief. Where is my money?” He barked, not minding the eyes staring at them, the side comments. However, he knew he had to tread carefully as it would be easy to tag him as a rapist or an abusive husband by on-lookers if he makes a single mistake.

As if reading his mind, Nwanneka backed away, “Which money? Am I owing you?”

Anumpama. She wants to play games ehn? Well, he wasn’t going to be a coward and miss this opportunity of getting even.

“Nwanneka, I am not joking. Where is the money you collected from my house!”

“See me oh, I am not owning this man.” She gestured to the onlookers, “He took me in for a job, till day break and he refused to pay. I only collected what he owed me and left, that was it o.”

“Egbe elu gbachipugi nti, mad girl. Who did you sleep with till day break? You heartless, wicked witch.”

Burning rage hissed through his body like deadly poison. Screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. He had not laid his hands on anyone for some time now and by God, he would want nothing else than to get his hands on her neck and squeeze until she snapped.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Nwanneka retorted. Shrugging off his hand and made to slide into the crowd and disappear.

He would not allow that. Not when it was obvious that his chi had brought his enemy to him for recompense. Fury swept off him like ferocious waves, his unholy excitement ran through his body like a second blood.

He pushed his way through the crowd to get to the lady matching off in a hurry. Amidst side talks and mocking laughter, he gave her an equal pursuit, determined to squeeze his money out of her by all means or kill her at the spot, he increased his pace as she increased hers.

Wrath consumed him, clogging his mind. He was lost in the moment and the prison his brain was in. He was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet so satisfying. He was getting close. If luck was by his side, he would catch up with her and punch her until she would cringe from her reflection on the mirror.

She ran across the road and he followed.

He the gods want to kill; they first make deaf- literally.

Every scream, every shout for him to turn back turned into buzzes in his ears. Something stronger was pulling him- propelling him to keep running after the woman, all of a sudden, he couldn’t see her, couldn’t see anything at all. He couldn’t feel his legs on the tared road- yet he was moving, floating like a leaf in harmattan.

He was not on the road anymore. He was back in his compound, scooping sand into a bottle. The hooting owl was there, a shadow was casted before him- an unusual creature, dark naked figure with leaves around his loin, with an offor in his right hand, the figure’s cold glassy eyes casted steely on him- piercing him like a dagger.

What am I doing in this place?

Who was this ghastly ethereal buffy being? And why had the little owl turned into a monstrous bird with a hideous shrill?

“Chukwumezie, son of Anaeto. The gods had given their verdict.”

He was dreaming in broad daylight. Oria iba, that must be it. He had to treat himself of malaria- but first, he had to wake up from this dark place.

The trance disappeared as fast as it came. That was when he saw the SUV running with a full speed towards him, looking around he realized he was at the center of the road. His legs rooted to the ground as if held by unseen forces.

As the SUV drew closer, the muffled voices became louder. It was too late for him, he was on the ground in a matter of seconds. The pain that once burnt like fire faded away so fast to an icy numbness, the only thing he could feel was his own heartbeat and the movement of his eyeballs.

His breath came in ragged, shallow gasp. Then he started hearing voices, people swam over him, trying to help him up. In his state, he wanted to laugh at their ignorance of the realm that had controlled what happened to him. He felt for them for trying to help whom his chi had condemned.

It was over for him.

His only prayer was that the angel of death would take his life faster and ease his depressed spirit. He closed his eyes and submitted to the darkness that still hovered.

There was one problem- death was taking so much time.

*
For once, he was grateful that Okoye had his personal number.

Odogwu, what kind of rain is falling in your house? I saw your woman running like one whose house was raided by soldier ants and had her dress filled with them, down the valley, towards ‘Mmiri Ele.’ Is it that the barber doesn’t know how to barb or the clipper is blunt?

The call had come when he was about leaving for the police station for the third time that day, not at all in the mood for the man’s eulogies which always end in one financial demand or the other- not that he was complaining, in fact, he had consciously included the man in his monthly payroll.

Only that he was not ready to speak to anyone who wouldn’t give him any meaningful suggestion how he could find Akwaugo and his daughter.

Two hours later and he was trotting down the part that led to the river. thanks to his newly acquired private jet and to Femi Otedola who’d succeeded in convincing him that he needed one.

She was nowhere around the river bank. He flashed his touch from his phone around, called out her name so loud that he feared the spirit of the dead would hear and come for him in the lonely place. He was greeted by the sound of his rebounded voice.

A sudden rustling in the bush startled him. He turned, only to see a turtle retiring into the bush through a narrow path, without thinking twice, he followed. By day, it wasn’t so difficult to walk through the path that led to the shrine, but as darkness had descended- walking through same road which was intertwined with thick tree roots became disheartening and scary, soft wet sand swallowed his sandals- his feet with them, each time he made a step.

The path at his feet faded as it led him into the thicker darkness of the forest, yet following it he must for the sake of Akwaugo and his daughter. Somewhere in there- she awaits him, even without being told, something in the giant roots and leaves seemed to convince him.

The gentle spirits he couldn’t see but felt like a cold breeze made him feel that the answer he’d been looking for concerning his union with Akwaugo would be found here. All he had to do was to open his senses to sounds, to scents and listen carefully to every instinct.

The path led him to the shrine of Edo.

She was there, lay on her side with the bundle firmly secured beside her. At first, he thought she was dead and had panicked, as he drew closer, he heard the whizzing of her ragged breath and the sound of her jittering teeth.

“Akwaugo.”

She didn’t stir.

He squatted and shook her roughly, “Akwaugo.”

She groaned, turned her head and stared into his face. her eyes had frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, rubbing them of their usual warmth. He meant to get the baby off her arms but she held her closer to her chest, glaring at him as if he was an enemy.

One look at the baby and he knew there was nothing left of her. His Ola was gone for a reason he was yet to find out. Agony clogged his throat, dejection and defeat descended on him like the darkness that was around them. Once again, he felt the ugly claws of grief upon his shoulder- a grief worse than what he felt when he watched his first wife give up on that hospital bed many years ago.

Yet he couldn’t cry. Akwaugo mustn’t see his tears, it would break her more.

“Akwaugo m. please let’s go home,” he croaked. How difficult it was for a man to hide pains when all he wanted to do was to tear on every leave and stomp the ground.

Sitting with legs stretched before her, the baby on her breast as if she wanted to suckle the child, she remained motionless. Wide eyes fixed on him.

He knew she was still in there, but it was as if she took a huge step back from life. He wanted to reach in and tell her all would be well, that they could try for another child and call her Olaedo if that would make her happy.

She wouldn’t believe him. The way she sat with her grip firm around the child, it would take a stronger force to get this woman out of this dark forest.

“Get away from me.” She whispered coldly.

“Babe, let’s go home.”

“There is no home. This is my home, here with my child, buried in this forest where I will no longer hurt anyone again.”

It was more than a man could take in a single night. The death of a child, and watching the woman he loved lose her mind.

God! What have I done? What crime did I commit to be punished with this misery?

He touched her cold stiffened chin and she flinched.

“What do you want from me?” she moaned.

“You, my love, my wife, my destiny.”

She blinked. For the first time since he arrived, he saw tears streamed down her face and when she looked at him, he knew she saw him finally.

“The child is no more. Our child is dead…” she looked down on the baby, offering her to him freely. “I killed her…Morgan, I killed our child. I would have listened and stayed away from you, that way, she would have lived.”

As he took the baby. His pain became an icy wind choking the breath from his lungs and making a noose around his neck. It's savage, bitter blast cut right to his bones and grip his brain in it’s freezing claws. His heart constricted as if it would stop beating.

Kissing the little cheeks, he placed the baby’s face to his and let out the cry that had knocked on the back of his throat. When tears came, a hot stream of tears, the first one after a very long time, he knew the battle to get hold of himself was lost.

“She wouldn’t have died. I didn’t listen.” She muttered.

Morgan knew he had to say something, but nothing other than a sob escaped his lungs when he opened his mouth.

He sat beside her, still holding the child, he circled his hand around her waist from behind and waited.

It was getting late. Soon it would be midnight and the spirits would gather for whatever they do in the night. They needed to get out of there, find a place and bury the child, he needed to nurse Akwaugo back to life.

“Let’s go home.” He pleaded.

“You have to go without me, it's better that way, I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

“If God or these deities want to kill me for your sake, then I am okay with it. If you are cursed, then they should equally curse me. I am not leaving without you. You are my family, my wife, the queen of my heart and my empire.”

It was funny how what he had seen in the movies became real- with him playing the major cast. There he was, in a dreaded forest, at the dead of the night, with a lifeless child in his arms, a heart filled with agony, professing undying love to an unstable woman.

With his eyes shut, he tilted his head to the side, supporting the weight with his shoulder. In a short while, he felt the burden in his arms getting heavier. He adjusted his arms and something else gave him concern- the body was becoming warm.

Morgan flicked his eyes opened, his brain stuttered for a moment, every part of him went on pause while his head tried to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

Colour was returning to the little body; her temperature had gone from cold to very hot in seconds.

The baby cracked a sound.

The next update will be tomorrow morning please, I went partying over the weekend I started writing it today.

Please forgive me and love me back.

For Bambook readers, my work "One more night" is now on Bambook.

So you have no reason not to read it. Don't forget to rate and drop your review. Just search for my name or the title of the book.

Get me up to the bestseller list on Bambook and Okadabooks.

You can do this by rating and leaving a review there. Thank you guys for everything.

i am actually beginning to love him. when i am ready to edit and rewrite this story, he is one character i will spend a lot of time building. he is one link we have to tradition and jujuism. him and Okoye

VULCAN:
Mezie may be the most fascinating fictional character to come out of Igboland since Okonkwo of Things Fall Apart and I reckon that the writer has an opportunity to write Mezie in such a way that he even surpasses Okonkwo in terms of complexity.

Pls don't rush this story. It's priceless

Kudos Rosemary

Inkopere:
Rosemary33

No vex o, did akwugo do something bad to you, from the beginning of the story na only she dey suffer

E don do abeg

I am in the office and read this, the kind of laughter that erupted from my belly ehn, my colleagues thought I was mad.

Chapter 45

All things considered; Madonna was quite relieved that she was finally out of dump she found herself in- temporarily.

All things considered, including how disgusted she did feel about the whole thing. Begging wasn’t one of her qualities, she’d never begged for mercy in her life, not even when threatened with death.

She was one hard bitch that believed there was always ways to get things turned to her favour and still walk with her head held high. This philosophy failed when she needed it most, every tactic flopped. The more she flexed her muscles the more she got stuck into the deeper shit.

She thought she could stubbornly whether the condition, but as days rolled by so did her sanity and her strength to fight. coupled with the guards that’d laugh like piranhas when they approached her demanding for something for the boys once her basic supplies arrived while loathing her secretly. Their seething hatred for her reeked all over them like rotten food.

Ninety-eight day inside the godforsaken place and she’d cry out, accepting every demand given by that bastard.

Madonna stood stark naked at her apartment, she could count what was remaining of her ribs as she did remove two each from both sides of her cage, to give her that ‘Nicky Minaj’ figure. She needed to increase the number of calories she eats per day so to add some flesh.

She yawned. Her eyes were still heavy from last night’s turning and tossing, it would take her some time to realize that she was out of the cell, yet her apprehensiveness couldn’t allow her to sleep some more. She felt she had to get back to work, make up for the lost months, visit old business partners and scout for fresh contracts. She was even oblivion of what was happening in the oil market, unfortunately, she would do little from her end.

Her case was still in court, the bastard had refused to drop the charges. Even the commissioner seemed to be a man held by the balls.

“My hands are tied. It’s an attempted murder case and there is little I can do.”

And the man who did pride himself as a faithful husband had even refused to have a piece of her flesh.

A miscalculated mistake. She would have known the man was as toothless in this case as the rest. Nobody would close the case and get her off the hook except the bale of money himself, she’d been a fool to allow some idiots to take advantage of her.

“If not for the respect I have for your father, I will charge you for bribery and harassment,” the Commissioner had rebuked.

When was the last time she heard a Muslim profess an unflinching commitment to one woman? Well, she was grateful the man had some sense. It would have been another wasted Bleep.

Madonna walked to her wardrobe, squatted and picked her robe from the floor where she left it the previous night, donned it over her head and went for a pack of cigarette at the other side of the bed.

A lot had happened to her these few months. Most, she now knew she brought upon herself, she wasn’t proud of them- in fact, she felt her skin shrink whenever she remembered how low she did stoop out of desperation. She was freaking out and wasn’t thinking straight, that explained the mistakes she’d make.

Taking a long drag and puffing rings of smokes in the air, she felt her heart constrict- not sure if it was the effect of the smoke or the seething disgust clawing her chest.

How could something as simple as wanting a man put her through this kind of punishment? It wasn’t worth it- really.

The seed of embracement did wedge inside her and had blossomed into a head spun when she was forced to finally admit that she did it, before Morgan and the marine spirit he got as a fiancé.

“We can now plead to settle out of court,” his lawyer had insisted. “Every evidence is against you and your alibi is very weak.”

The man she did bleeped that night had refused to have anything to do with the case. It was her cross and he didn’t want to get involved.

For the first time in her life, she was ashamed. Ashamed to look her father in the eye and admit that she was not as grown as she did claim.

“Leaving you with your mother at a tender age was the biggest mistake I made. See what she turned you into.” his father had spat out at the last court sitting.

The same mother that had bundled her back to Nigeria when she couldn’t stomach her rebelliousness, saying she was better off in Nigeria than Connecticut.

Madonna hissed, took a last drag and dropped what was left to burn out on top of the wooden table beside the bed, where other burnout sticks, now cold ashes, lay like dry flakes of her self-esteem.

*
“What do you mean she left?”

“We tried to stop her sir, but she took the baby and was gone.”

Morgan tried to swallow the anger that was like a fire-seed down his throat. How was it possible that all of them couldn’t stop her from running off with his daughter, to God-knows-where. Then it dawned on him that she was a full-grown woman who should have known better.

“Anyone knows where she’d gone to?”

She wasn’t at the hospital. His doctor confirmed that and nobody had seen her either. Jesus. It just didn’t make sense; how could she take a dying child and disappear! What was wrong with her? Why was she always running away? Now with their daughter- his daughter?

The anger he did try to swallow grew in his belly and came out as hot as any dragon could ever flame- on the person he loved, the inferno, more than what he could control. His staff shivered before him as he hauled raging words, swearing and cursing.

“You should have called me earlier!”

She should have called him, goddamnit.

“What happened to all the cars in this compound? You should have taken her to where ever she wanted to go to…”

She should have been wise enough to know that the only place she should take the child to is the hospital- their hospital.

Every unanswered question fueled the fire inside him; every silence was like gasoline to it. His fist began to clench and his jaw rooted.

“Daddy?”

Ariel. The child ran into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. It wasn’t how he’d wanted to welcome his older daughter, why couldn’t life work out perfectly, the way he’d plan it?

“I didn’t do it dad…I didn’t hurt the baby.”

“I know you didn’t sweetheart.”

“Now they are gone, is it my fault? Did I make her go?”

Unable to control the bubbling rage, he left everyone staring, stomped into his library, slammed the door and took out his anger on the table- punching until his knuckles arched. He then flopped on the chair, looking blankly at his phone.

As frustrating and embarrassing as it would be, he knew he had to declare Akwaugo and their daughter missing.

He had to find his family and would talk about why she did what she did later.

*
It was more than crying, more like a desolate sobbing that came from a person drained of all hope. A heart-wrenching sob emanating from a long-suppressed agony.

The sun was already weak by the time Akwaugo arrived Onitsha and boarded another bus to Nnewi. All the while- swallowing her despair like a bone being forced down the throat. Averting her gaze from curious eyes and hoping people wouldn’t ask why the baby, wrapped in a heavy blanket wasn’t cracking a sound.

Now, with her body wary, and her shoulders stiffened out of the burden she’d been carrying for long, she sank to her knees in front of the deserted shrine in the forest, not minding the damp mud that dirtied her dress, with the sound of harsh drops of water pattering on the leaves and the bellowing mmiri ele as her unsolicited companion.

Her tears mingled with the late November rain and her gasping wail echoed around the shrine. The pain that flowed from her was palpable, her tears could have woken the dead if things worked that way.

She would have run to the church, but she knew that somethings should be handled from the root. It all started here- the first oath she did took, ‘Allow another man into your carnal of pleasure and die.”

Wouldn’t it have been better they took her life? It would have saved everyone the disaster she did put them; Morgan would have still been holding his daughter to his bosom.

She killed her child.

Her desire for something other than the destiny her chi had given her.

Clutching the baby tightly to her chest, with her face buried on the cold stiffened little body, she gave in to the enormity of her grief, shivering out of raging agony than cold, she groaned like a hurting animal.

“Why do you have to punish a child for the sin of her mother? Why cause agony to visit a man because of me? Couldn’t you have taken it out on me?” She mumbled. Her breath hitched; agony raked her frame.

“I tried. God, you know I tried to stay. You threw this stone at me, what would you have me do? It was so heavy…chim, the stone was too heavy. All I wanted was a good life, for once- to know how it feels to be loved and to give my Ola a better father. I didn’t ask for much…Chim.”

The spirit beings are heartless entities passing time with mortals. God. gods. Whichever one was real, all had failed her, Akwaugo concluded.

Had she been given an option; she should have offered her life instead. But they didn’t give her time- none of them sought her opinion, they just stretched their arms and took. The whole of her screamed in unison, traumatized that she should exist without Olaedo, the cod that bund her and Morgan.

When the wrecking sob passed, she cried in such a desolate way that even the forest, God and deities couldn’t bear to listen for too long.

It was time to step in once again in the affairs of mortals.

*
Once out of the breath stifling Onitsha main market, Nwanneka navigated by intersections and aroma. Weeks after her return, she had succeeded in securing a one-room apartment which she paid for out of the money she got from Lagos. Now she was naked- stripped off money and would likely go begging if nothing was done.
Where had all the monies gone to?

She moved along in the thick crowd. The little time spent here had taught her that the crowd in this city would be enough to birth a country, and it seemed like November brought with it more people from other parts of the countries, some for trade and some- well…

The angry grunt in her stomach made her wince, the need to find something to fill her stomach grew. Being jostled by strong, sweaty bodies was one of the few disgusting things she did get used to in this town and she did also learn how to make good use of her nose to find vital places as the human rush wouldn’t give her the privilege to stand at a place and search out bright billboards and read signs- backpacks, hairs and different shades of cloths always stood on the way.

With the smell of Akara wafting through her nose strongly, she knew she’d find what she was looking for, her grumbling stomach also agreed to this. Unconsciously squeezing a naira note tightly in her palm, a reminder of what she came out with today. She hastened, turning right- she weaved her way towards the aroma that beckoned.

Throwing the issue that brought her to the market behind her, she swallowed the fluid that had gushed into her mouth at the scent of food and pushed forward.

Few balls of delicious beancakes that would carry her for the night and some for the next day when she would go out for another hunt.
Job. Free food. Free bucks from one or two men who wouldn’t mind having quickies in their stuffy shops.

She’d gotten none of the above today. The jobs she saw were degrading, nobody gives free food in Onitsha and for free bucks? Those men seemed not to be in a hurry to part with their money, though she did get two complimentary cards.

No. she didn’t hop from one shop to another offering pussy. She did present herself as a young lady in need, her girlish stature was a plus and she saw the two out of the eight men she approached ogling at her full breasts.

“colu mii reta, I fit alenji sometin fo yor,” one croaked with lust in his eyes.

No matter how tough this place was, it was way better than where she’d return from. It was easy to blend here and even swipe one or two wares off the shelf without being seen, in otherward, survival was easier in this crowded town.

“Madam, give me hundred-naira hot Akara.”

“You want bread to go with it?”

Asking for bread would be pushing for the kind of luxury that was way beyond her at the moment.

“No, I will take sachet water later.”

Securing a seat while trying so hard to control the saliva pool in her mouth, she wondered why the people there- waiting for the same snack wouldn’t respectfully go home and eat. Why was it so difficult to find a place where the ‘have-nots’ could freely go and fill their stomachs without the intrusion of the ‘haves’?

By the time it got to her turn to be served she swore she had no intestine remaining, the worms in her stomach must have eaten them all. She greedily took the paper-wrapped local bean fries, plopped back on the wooden bench and dug in. stuffing her face, with very few breaths in-between mouthfuls, much to the dismay of those around her.

With the last ball in her mouth, she scrunched the paper and threw it on the ground. Heaved off the bench and help herself with a sachet of water, flattened the swollen pack it in one gulp. She had her eyes shut, hands rubbing her tummy about to mutter a prayer of thanksgiving when she heard her name in the most hash, jarring and strident tone.

Flicking her eyes open, Mezie stood before her- face as crooked as the bumper of an accident truck, his eyes, narrowed, cold, harsh. At that moment, she knew she either start looking for the closest cemetery or just jump into the boiling oil- either way, her death was standing before her.

chibestjerry:
Awesome scene.
But hope you are not rushing the story.

All of a sudden Madonna was freed from prison.
Your former episode makes it seems almost impossible for her to achieve freedom easily.

Even her father had wash his hand of her and beside how was his father able to secure her release easily.

Though Mezie scene was awesome.

her story has not ended. how and why she came out will be resolved

Chapter 44

The witch cries in the night and the baby dies in the morning, there is no need asking who did the killing. Evil has its’ face on it's back so it can snatch without compassion.

When Akwaugo heard the piercing, deafening and heart wrenching shrill of her daughter, Olaedo, one name flashed into her mind- Ariel.

She paused her fingers on the beads she was counting and her mouth from the prayers she was muttering, for she’d found her faith back recently, having abandoned her religious rituals for months now, catching up had become torturous, she did repeat ‘the act of mercy’ twice, yet, praying wasn’t coming so easy for her.

She jerked to a sitting position, with the blanket covering her legs, she listened.

No sound.

No cry.

Only the ticking of the clock in her room, the mild humming of her AC and later, heavy footsteps running up the stairs- must be any of the maids.

Muffled voices from the room adjacent to hers filtered through the wall into her room. Rapid, panicking voices.

“…What happened? I heard her scream just now. She is not moving!”

“I did nothing to the baby I swear! I only played with her and slept off…I swear ma’am…I did nothing!”

Akwaugo sprang out of the bed. Adrenaline flooded her system, it pumped and beat like it was trying to escape, she swore her heart would explode as her eyes widened with fear. Her legs wanted to run faster towards the room where the voices were emanating from, but she was scared of what she would find.

Her throat suddenly went dry, she could taste the saltiness of her sweat trickling down from her forehead into her opened mouth.

“Ola…Olaedo…olaedo…” She heard the maid’s desperate voice.

Like a woman who was suddenly struck mad by Amadioha, she let out a loud yelp, twirled around and raced towards the other room, her door rebounding after her.

She halted at the sight that graced her. Her body froze, same as her brain. One sweep of her gaze on the faces and she knew something was wrong with the little girl that lay still on the bed. One would have expected that she would scurry towards the child and scoop her up, but she was scared.

She couldn’t allow her legs to move, neither could her brain cookout solution instead of this crazy-making circling anxiety.
Her white step-daughter had started sobbing softly, shaking her baby mildly. Her Ola.

She approached the bed now. One gaze at the child that was already turning purple and she knew it had happened- disaster had struck, her chi had once again remembered her with misfortune.

She staggered backwards, her mouth covering her mouth as nausea racked her inside.

When a mighty man goes on a hunt, his enemies choose to visit his household. Morgan. Where was her husband? The father of her dying child… what would she tell him?

It wasn’t the predicted fight that destroys a warrior, but the random disaster one knew was coming but didn’t know when. She knew it, she told Morgan their union would bring nothing but destruction for all of them but he wouldn’t listen.

“Chim…Chim o…Osebuluwa…my God!” she kept mumbling, eyes darting around, searching for something she didn’t keep.

“Let’s take her to the hospital, ma’am. I will get Maurice to get the car ready.”

Akwaugo wasn’t listening. Her whole being had been catapulted back to the village, she could see Mezie’s snarl, the mocking glint, she could hear the oath they took before the multiple, scary antiques displayed under the big Oji tree, her hands tied together with Mezie’s.

“Auntie…Auntie.”

They have taken her child, the problem now was she didn’t know which of them. Okija, Edo, and for what sin? Telling everybody of the paternity of the child or agreeing to make love with another man other than Mezie?

She felt a hand on her shoulder shaking her to consciousness,

“Hmm?” she turned to face the maid. How many are they in the room? Six? Seven? Almost all the staff had gathered. Who summoned them? Why would they leave their rooms to gather here?

“What is it? Why is everybody here?”

“We should take Oma to the hospital; I have called doctor…”

“Hospital…which Oma are you talking about?”

She couldn’t comprehend whatever the man was saying. Hospital. Oma. What was going on? And why were they gazing at her as if she had lost her mind?

“Please dial Oga’s number.” Someone said.

*
“Ogbuonye mgbe ndu na agu ya!” Mezie hailed himself under his breath.

He pushed his door and stepped into the interior of the decently furnished apartment he recently moved into. The putrid stench of dry dung wafted through his nose as he walked into the outhouse to relief himself of the pressure that threatened to bust his bladder, he didn’t know if it was his unflushed toilet or the rancid odor from the forest of Okija which must have lapped on his clothes and skin like a mortal sin. How anyone could stand a place so baleful and bloodcurdling as the thick Okija forest where he was asked to put down the objects of sacrifice and strip naked, baffled him.

He’d wanted the life of his rival, had pleaded for him to be inflicted with a deadly disease. “Let him be eaten alive by warms,” he did ask. But the priest had turned this request down.

“Touch him and you will incur disaster for yourself. You cannot take from a man whose chi is always awake, I cannot grant you that wish. And besides, you have something of him, what you took from him had settled the debt he owes you.”

Whatever that meant.

The man couldn’t be touched, neither could his adulteress ex-wife. Mezie didn’t press further. The child would die, that would pacify him for the moment.

He peeled his mud smeared shirt and trouser off his body, dumped then inside a bucket inside his bathroom and swaggered unabashedly naked with another bucket to get water which he would take back to the bathroom and scrub himself thoroughly.

“Wait for the news.” The priest had told him.

So, he would.

What if they hid the news from people?

Mezie scuffed while scrubbing his armpit with intensity.

Death cannot be hidden for long. Besides, the priest promised him it would be done in four days, after the four days, he would have to travel to the village, gather his Umunna and demand for his daughter to be given to him.

The kinsmen would be forced to summon the rich rascal and he would come. No matter how wealthy a man is, he would not turn his back on his Umunna, the son of Ochudo would come.

Sighing with satisfaction, he arced and scooped water with his palms, threw on his face and allow it cascade down his body.

Ptfuaa! He spat out water that ran into his mouth. Azigbagbukwa ndi-iro m, he cursed. Oh, he would want to see their faces, would celebrate his victory, scorning them the way they did scorn him.

He arced, scooped and threw more water. On his back, arms, head, face, over and over again until he was sure every scent of evil had been washed away. Then, he lifted the bucket and threw the remaining water over his head. Turning his neck side to side vigorously like a child dancing in the rain.

Spat out water.

Scrubbed his face, and swaggered out of the bathroom.

He would defer going to his chemist shop today, just that day would not make his customers run away. In fact, he would have to consider getting himself an apprentice again, Business was beginning to look up, Onitsha was treating him well.

You ungrateful fool, it was because of the money given to you by Ochudo’s son, you would have been gone by now.

“Did I ask him for his wretched money?” he retorted, settling his bare butt on his bed. “That idiot stole a woman I suffered for, he only paid for his sins which isn’t even enough!”

Conscience could be stupid. Why would the uncooperative thing want him to feel entitled to the rich bastard all of a sudden?

He hissed. Pulled his legs off the floor and sprawled on the bed, his hands padding his head.

This is life.

Vengeance is sweet, and he was going to enjoy every bit of it.

*
Two days of stakeholders meeting, reading and signing of papers, issuing cheques and barking orders. Two nights of sleeping less than three hours, he could see red veins gathering on his white eyeballs when he looked at the mirror. Any attempt to blink and his eyes would hurt as if there were gravels poured inside of them.

One more day. One more day to round up the tour around Wilsons group, South-Africa, then he would head home.

Already up, waiting for his chauffeur, he smoothened his grey tox, adjusted his tie and strolled towards the window of his hotel.

Looking out, he sighed at the silhouette of the rising sun, registered the twisting movements of some birds on top of the coconut trees by the pool.

He missed home. The comfort of his bed and the smooth skin of his woman. His two daughters must be missing him too.

Ah.

Morgan Ochudo, now has two daughters. He shook his head.

He had a lot to be thankful for. Where he had climbed in life now, nobody could have imagined it- not even him, thanks to his late wife.

Now, all he saw when he looked around him was a gigantic empire, immeasurable wealth his third-generation couldn’t exhaust if they would be prudent enough.

He knew he’d established himself with the wealth he didn’t work for, he’d showed his gratitude to God and the universe by giving back to his community and Nigeria at large.

Malisa foundation, which was founded to honor the woman who’d given him a change of life, had been a channel of help to the less privileged.

He wasn’t a bad person. The universe knew that, that was why it kept blessing him with the best of everything- including a goddess as a wife.

He grinned.

In less than a month, they would march to the altar and would settle the doubt in her heart. She would become his wife in every sense.

So far, he had left no stone unturned in the plans he’d been hatching concerning this wedding.

One more thing.

He strolled back into the room and picked his phone, dialed Favor.

“Book us for France…yes…for the honeymoon…Favor please allow this old man enjoy his life for once.”

That settled, he ordered for a cup of tea and was about to relax his back on the sofa in his executive suite when his phone rang.

“Yes.”

“Sir, everything is not right down here…your daughter…your wife…”

Thank you, Cent.

centmanuel:
I thought Mezie had given up I never knew I was still cooking something. I hope he eats it alone
Will Nwamaka ever have a settled life? because moving from city to city will not help her get something good and her greed for money and material things will push her deeper into poverty if she does not manage that money well.
Congratulations to Akwa because Ariel is supportive of her relationship.
The way you describe Mezie's scene baffles me, you are really a champ.
Thanks for the update.

Adeola25:
Hmmm, smart thinking. And I taught it's someone else lurking around. Aseni ase ara e.

WAACUT:
Can I get to see you in person rosy??

I dey port Harcourt o