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What was Madam Lizzy really after? And how far was I willing to go for her?


By the time Monday rolled around, the relentless cycle of night shifts at Toluwani Mansion had become almost suffocating. The grand house, usually so full of life during the day, transformed after dusk into a labyrinth of shadows and whispered secrets. But this Monday was different—Mr. Ojoge had gone away again, off on one of his endless business trips, leaving the mansion eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the security systems and the occasional creak of the old floors.

With the boss away, Madam Lizzy and I slipped back into our dangerous midnight ritual—our secret world hidden beneath the heavy curtains and polished chandeliers. The thrill of those stolen moments was intoxicating. The way her fingers traced patterns on my skin, the soft heat of her breath on my neck, the way time seemed to freeze between us—it was a pleasure I never thought I’d allow myself to savor so fully.

And yet, beneath the excitement, a dark knot of fear gnawed at my gut. Every time the night deepened and we drew closer, I felt the weight of the risk pressing harder on my chest. The thought of what could happen if her husband ever found out haunted me relentlessly.

One particularly quiet moment, as we lay tangled in the sheets, the silence between us stretched long enough for me to finally voice what had been swirling inside me.

“Madam, ” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t stop thinking about what might happen if he finds out. If your husband—Mr. Ojoge—discovers what we’re doing… I don’t know if I’d survive it. What if he decides to make an example out of me? Or worse… what if it becomes public? My life, my job, everything could be destroyed.”

She shifted closer, her eyes searching mine, steady and unwavering. Her fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead as she smiled—a smile meant to calm, to convince.

“Oh, come on, Femi,” she murmured softly, brushing away my fears like they were nothing more than shadows. “There’s nothing to fear. I’ve done this before. He trusts me, or at least he thinks he does. We’ll be careful. No one has to know. You’re careful, aren’t you?”

I wanted to believe her. To feel the warmth of her assurance chase away the cold dread inside me. But somewhere deep down, the doubt remained. How long could we dance on the edge of this knife before it slipped? How long before the walls closed in?

Still, that night, the thrill overpowered the fear once more. I let myself be consumed by the moment, by her touch, by the dangerous intimacy that both terrified and thrilled me. The night stretched endlessly before us, and for just a while, the world beyond Toluwani Mansion ceased to exist.

The money Madam Lizzy sent was more than just a lifeline—it was a doorway to a better life. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe easier. The small apartment I lived in no longer felt quite so cramped; I could afford better meals, clothes that didn’t wear thin after a single wash, and even occasional nights out that felt like a taste of a world I’d only dreamed of before.

But I wasn’t reckless. Deep down, I knew this wasn’t a gift freely given. It was part of a delicate, dangerous game I was playing, and I had to be smart about it. So, I began to plan. I’d save as much as I could, squirreling away enough to take classes, to further my education—the one thing I hoped might one day pull me out of this shadowy existence and into something more stable, more dignified.

Among those who noticed the change was Wura. She was sharp, as always, quick to spot the shift in my fortunes. One evening, sitting across from me at the local spot where we often shared stories and cheap food, she finally pressed.

“You’ve changed, Femi. There’s more in your pockets and light in your eyes. Spill it—where’s this new luck coming from?”

I hesitated, feeling the familiar weight of secrecy pressing down on me. But with a steady breath, I offered a careful half-truth.

“It’s the wife of my boss,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “Madam Lizzy. She’s… generous.”

He stood up. 'Consider the job done, chief. It's going to be a clean job.'




About an hour after Sam had left for the office, Jenni stood up from the bed to brush her teeth and have her bath.

She had only told him part of the truth when she said Chief Kashi was disturbing her with sexual overtures. The other truth was that she was scared the man was involved in diabolical things. Jenni had only worked for him for about four months, but she was calling it quit despite the good pay. It was during this time that she had become acquainted with Sam.

She could only hope that Sam was a complete gentleman that he appeared to be.
She knew that her boss would call her lines the moment he did not see her in the office, so she had switched off her phones. It was better that she did not speak with him for now.

There were still some left overs of the yams she cooked the previous night. She warmed them in the micro-wave oven and fried some eggs to eat them.

After the breakfast, she decided she would remain in the house till afternoon before she would leave.

About two o'clock that hot afternoon, Sam drove to Ogba for him to do a surveillance of where they would be coming in the night to carry out arson. Slowly, he drove along the Ojodu road.

He saw the number of the building and parked the jeep some meters away from the main gate. Then, he came down from the car and walked towards the gate. There were some people coming out as he knocked on the side gate. A short security man of middle-age attended to him.

'Yes?'

'Good day,' Sam replied. 'I'm looking for the office of Barrister Tony.' 'Barrister Tony? In this building? I think you've got the wrong address.'

'Really?'

Through the opened gate, Sam took a quick survey of the building. 'But Barrister Tony told me he occupied an office on the floor of this building.'

The security man shook his head. 'It must be a mistake. This building has no lawyer using it.'

Sam had seen enough for now. 'Alright, let me call him.'

He brought his phone out and pretended he was searching for the so-called barrister's number. As he did this, he walked away from the gate to where he had parked his car. He had succeeded in his first mission. As he drove back to Ketu, he had no doubt that the task given by the boss would not be difficult to be accomplished.

That night, no scandal erupted. No secret meetings threatened to unravel the fragile balance I’d been struggling to maintain.

But deep down, I knew this calm was temporary.

Because in the shadows of the night, nothing stayed still for long.


---

It was Saturday, finally a day off—a rare luxury in the middle of endless night shifts. I had planned to rest, maybe catch up on sleep or just sit quietly with my thoughts. But then my phone buzzed with an unexpected call. The screen flashed “Madam Lizzy.”

My heart skipped. Hearing her voice on a day like this wasn’t usual—and it never meant just a casual hello.

“There's a hotel called Blue Star Hotel, along Sagamu Road,” she said, her tone sharp, leaving no room for negotiation. “You can take an okada from Ikorodu Roundabout. Let’s meet there in an hour’s time.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

I swallowed hard. Every instinct told me to resist, to say no and reclaim the day that was mine. But I knew better. I had no choice but to comply. Madam Lizzy’s voice carried a weight that silenced argument.

Igbogbo to Ikorodu wasn’t a short trip—nearly half an hour’s journey by okada, weaving through the restless traffic and noisy streets. The sun was already dipping low, the sky painted in bruised shades of orange and purple. I grabbed my jacket, shoved my phone in my pocket, and headed out, the ache of fatigue gnawing at me.

The ride was bumpy and tense, the city’s chaos swallowing every thought. My mind raced with questions. Why the sudden meeting? What had changed? What game was she playing now?

When I arrived at Blue Star Hotel, the neon sign flickered faintly in the twilight, casting an eerie glow on the cracked pavement. I stepped inside and took a seat in the dimly lit lobby, my nerves taut like a wire ready to snap. Minutes dragged on like hours as I waited.

Then, just as doubt began to creep in, my phone buzzed again.

“It’s not happening. I won’t be coming,” Madam Lizzy’s message read—short, cold, and final.

Confusion slammed into me. After all that trouble, after the long ride and anticipation, she had pulled out at the last moment.

But as if to soften the blow, my phone chimed once more—a notification from my bank.

She had sent money. A significant amount. For the trouble, she said.

I stared at the screen, a storm of emotions swirling inside me. Was it an apology? A bribe? Or something else entirely?

I sat back, the weight of the night settling over me. The city’s noise buzzed faintly outside, but inside, I was alone with questions that had no answers.

What was Madam Lizzy really after? And how far was I willing to go for her?

By ten, Chief summoned Sam to his office.

'I've been trying all Jenni's lines, but none was going,’ Chief said. 'Even if she was sick, was it not proper that she get across to inform me? She's not yet at work, yet she remains incommunicado.'

Sam nodded. 'Maybe the battery of her phone was flat, or something. It's strange that she's not here and you've not heard a word from her.'

'Yeah, quite strange.' Chief shrugged. 'Anyway, let's leave that for now.' He paused briefly.

'Sam, there's a task for you.'

Sam drew closer to the boss' desk. 'What task, sir?'

The chief nodded and regarded Sam briefly. 'It's not a difficult task, but it is one that you must be very careful, as usual.'

Sam was very attentive as he listened.

The chief continued: 'One of the offices of our political opponents needs to be torched.'

'Torched?' Sam asked.

The chief stood up from his seat and moved to the window side. He could not stare through the window as he sometimes did as the curtains were all in place. In seconds, he was back on his well-padded, leather chair.
He opened his drawer and brought out a paper which he handed to Sam.

'Yes, the building should go up in flames, especially the upstairs. That's the address of the office. It's a storey building. You're only to burn the building, don't take any life.

'After working hours, a security man guards the place. You have to neutralize him. Except he poses a great threat, don't eliminate him. Take some liters of fuel along and burn the place down. The operation must be carried out between tonight and the dawn of tomorrow. Take one or two of the boys along. That is your task.'

Sam nodded and studied the paper he had been given. The building in question was at Ojodu road, Ogba. He was used to that area and could mentally calculate around the place where the building would be, from the house number.

He nodded again. 'No problem, chief. Consider the task done.'

The chief too nodded. 'Yeah, I'm trusting that you will do a good job.'

He opened his briefcase and brought out a wad of one thousand naira notes. 'Use that for logistics. If it will not be enough, let me know. You can start with your background checks right away.'

Sam picked the money and pocketed it. He stood up. 'Consider the job done, chief. It's going to be a clean job.'

All the same, he felt the reason she was giving him was not enough for her to quit. 'So, what will you be doing now? I mean, what will you be doing pending the time you will get a new job?'

She made a wry smile to reassure him. 'Don't worry about that. Between now and when the new job will come, I have saved enough money that will sustain me. I'll surely manage to get by.'

He wasn't totally convinced by her, but he felt there was no need to drag the issue again.
Jenni was with him that night.

The following morning, he was up by five to start preparing for work. Since she would not be going to work, she didn't need to wake up at the time he did. When he was about to set out, he tapped her on the shoulder.

'Good morning, darling,' he greeted. 'Morning, dear. How was the night?'

He smiled. 'With you, it's always a beautiful night. Here's some money that you may need.'

He dropped some money on the stool by the bed side. 'I'm off.' 'Bye, dear.'

He kissed her good bye.

At this time of the morning, the traffic was very light. Within forty minutes, he was at the Ketu office where he worked. Though he had the title Personal Assistant to Chief Kashi, Sam was involved in variety of tasks ranging from body guarding to doing some 'odd job' for the boss.

There was some risks involved but Sam always argued that there was no job without a risk. Besides, the pay was good. That lucrative part, no matter how odd the job was, mattered to Sam. It was past nine when Chief came into the office. He was surprised to see that his secretary had not come.

'Do you have an idea why Jenni is not yet in the office?' he asked Sam.

The latter would not admit that Jenni slept over in his place. Neither would he admit that she had told him she would not be coming to work again.

'No idea, sir,' he answered.

By ten, Chief summoned Sam to his office.

It was a grilling adventure that ended after eight minutes. When it was over, he lay exhausted by her side on the bed.

She rested for some minutes before she went to the kitchen to cook the meal for the evening. There were still some yams in there, and there were some eggs in the fridge.

She peeled off the yams, cut them into slices and put them in a pot. It was when they were eating that she finally told him what had been nagging at her mind. 'I'll be stopping my work at the office from tomorrow, Thursday.'

He looked at her sharply. 'What d'you mean?'

'I'm not working for the chief or the company again.'

He was surprised. 'So, tell me, which new work have you got for yourself?' Jenni shook her head. 'None for now.'

Again, he looked at her sharply. 'You mean you've not got another job and you want to quit this?'

She sighed and was silent. He held her left hand. 'Why d'you want to leave?'

She was silent for a couple of seconds more.

'It's for a personal reason,' she finally said.

He held her tighter. 'So personal you cannot share it with your heart-throb?'

She smiled wanly. 'Well, I guess I have no option than to tell you now. I'm leaving because I'm fed up with the pressures I'm receiving from him.'

His face wore a slight frown. 'Pressures? What pressures are you talking about?'

Jenni turned to face him squarely. 'It's just that I've not told you all this while.

Chief has been pestering me for an affair. It has got to a point now that I just have to ease myself out of that place as I cannot bear his pestering anymore.'

Sam was indeed surprised. 'Really? Are you sure chief has been sexually harassing you all this while and you did not even tell me?'

She was emphatic in her answer. 'Yes, but that's over now. I'll quit and that will stop further harassment.'

He was still befuddled. 'But, is that enough reason for you to quit? Are you now losing your job just because of that?'

She stared at him. 'Are you saying you prefer that your babe should continue to be sexually harassed? Or are you even saying that I should give in to his demand?'

He quickly checked himself. Of course, he would not say she should cave in. All the same, he felt the reason she was giving him was not enough for her to quit.

As a matter of fact, she wanted more than just sleeping together and claiming to be lovers, but he behaved as if the issue of marriage was an anathema.

Sam believed he was far from being ready for serious relationship. He still had some years ahead of him, he would claim. So far, Jenni had been playing everything cool, like someone bidding her time.

Sam stripped down to boxers and singlet. It was March and the weather was stuffy. Right inside the house, it was okay for him to remain as he was. The standing fan was blowing, but it hardly helped the stuffiness. He must fix the air-conditioner system he had promised himself to do.

Some thirty minutes later, Jenni arrived in the house. 'Hello, dear,' he greeted.

'Hi,' she returned. She came to give him a peck. 'How was your outing?' she asked.

Though she and Sam had the same employer, Sam hardly stayed in the office. He was always on the move doing one hatchet man's job or the other for Chief Kashi. But to Jenni, Sam was a plain and upright guy.

'All went well,' he replied, grinning. 'How was the office too?'

'Fine.'

She would have loved to converse more with him but he was in no mood for conversation. That could wait, as far as he was concerned. He drew her to himself and planted a long kiss on her lips.

'You didn't even wait for me to rest,' she protested lightly.

'Rest? You'll have more than enough time to rest, my dear.'

He pulled her to himself again and resumed the kiss.

I would lose everything. My reputation. My freedom. Maybe even my life.

Still, temptation is a strange and powerful thing. The more I tried to suppress it, the louder it called.

It was past midnight when she came again.

The building was quiet, the only sounds the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional creak from the cooling pipes. Then I heard it—the soft click of heels against marble. A scent of jasmine and danger drifted in before she even appeared.

Madam Lizzy stepped into the corridor like a shadow wrapped in silk. Her eyes locked onto mine, blazing with a hunger that no words could mask. She was dressed in black—satin that clung to every curve like it had been poured onto her. The moonlight caught the glint of her earrings, but it was the look in her eyes that shimmered most dangerously.

Without a word, she approached, her presence magnetic, her intent unmistakable. My pulse quickened. Every instinct screamed for me to stop her, to say no, to remind her—and myself—that this was a line we should never have crossed.

But her lips found mine before reason could find a voice.

She didn’t come for conversation. She came to satisfy her need—a wild, desperate craving that only deepened each time we swore it would be the last. Her touch burned like fire on my skin, her whispers more intoxicating than the finest wine. It was reckless. It was wrong.

It was the third night of my relentless duty, the third stretch of hours where the world outside seemed to vanish into shadows and silence. The air felt heavier tonight, charged with an energy I couldn’t quite place. Word had somehow spread—or maybe it was just a gut feeling—that the boss himself, Mr. Ojoge, was going to be around. The very thought made my heart tighten.

Mr. Ojoge was a man of reputation. Stern, exacting, with a gaze sharp enough to slice through any pretense. His presence alone could transform the calmest night shift into a nerve-wracking ordeal. No room for mistakes, no space for carelessness. The kind of man who noticed everything, from the way you walked to the way you avoided eye contact.

I told myself to keep my head down, to focus on the tasks laid out before me. And strangely enough, there was a comfort in that—a purpose in the steady rhythm of work.

But what struck me most was the absence of Madam Lizzy.

She hadn’t come that night.

Normally, her arrival was the unpredictable spark that shattered the monotony of my shifts—a secret rendezvous that both thrilled and terrified me. But tonight, there was nothing. No soft footsteps echoing down the lobby. No sudden scent of her perfume hanging in the stale air. No clandestine meeting to steal stolen moments from the night.

For a moment, I felt a surge of relief wash over me. Maybe it was just me being cautious, or maybe fate was giving me a small reprieve. Either way, I was grateful for the calm.

So, I immersed myself in my duties, eyes sharp, hands steady. I moved through the motions with precision, ticking off tasks as if my life depended on it—because with Mr. Ojoge watching, it just might. Every sound made me flinch, every shadow seemed to twitch with hidden meaning. I wondered if the boss would catch the faint traces of my restless mind, or if he would simply see the competent worker I tried so hard to be.

The hours crawled by, slow and deliberate, until the first light of dawn peeked through the windows. When the shift finally ended, I exhaled deeply, muscles tense but spirit intact.

That night, no scandal erupted. No secret meetings threatened to unravel the fragile balance I’d been struggling to maintain.

But deep down, I knew this calm was temporary.

Because in the shadows of the night, nothing stayed still for long.

Good day all. I brought this story for those who miss it.

Happy reading...


Fear No More


Sola Raphael



© 2025
All rights reserved. No part of this story must be used without the express permission of the author.










Sam is a jolly fellow who goes about in a confident way bereft of worries. When his boss instructs him to become driver to his wife, Sam thinks it’s another simple task.

He is confounded by the turn of events. The dalliance between him and his boss’ wife becomes an albatross. His life is on the line. He becomes a man on the run, even as another love intrigues pull him back.



The Hyndai jeep drifted with the traffic. It was few minutes after five p.m., and it was the hour many workers had closed at the offices and were returning to their homes. Sam was not in a hurry, so the traffic could be as slow as it wanted to be.

Like others, he was returning home where he hoped to have a deserved rest. In order to chase off boredom, he snapped the jeep radio on. A female presenter was blabbing about the importance of fidelity in marriage and other relationships.

As a single man at thirty years old, Sam felt the message was of no importance to him. He promptly changed the Frequency Modulated station and settled for a musical station. From Ketu, to Mile 12, Owode, Irawo, Ajegunle and Ogolonto, the traffic remained busy.

At Ogolonto, he turned right to drive to Ebute. From here, he would drive towards Igbogbo. His final destination was a storey building off Igbogbo Road. It was few minutes after six when he drove inside the compound.

He took the sidewalk to his two-room apartment at the back of the main building. It was supposed to be a boys’ quarter, but it was a glorified one with nice rooms and en-suite kitchens and toilets. It was one of his gains for working for Chief Kashi, the business man cum politician.

One of his phones rang as soon as he stepped inside the house. He let it ring for a while as he removed his shoes and socks. He then picked the phone. It was Jenni on the line.

'Hello, baby. How're you?'

'Fine. Are you at home already?'

'Yeah, I just got home now. Are you coming over?'

'Yes, I'm on my way.'

Jenni was a co-worker. While Sam worked as a special assistant to Chief Kashi, Jenni was the boss' secretary. Jenni was however more than a co-worker to Sam: they were lovers.

It was not the first time Jenni would be visiting his house or sleeping overnight. That had become a routine. Jenni didn't mind his companionship.

As a matter of fact, she wanted more than just sleeping together and claiming to be lovers, but he behaved as if the issue of marriage was an anathema.

She was supposed to be at the supermarket by now—her shift usually started before the sun even got a proper yawn.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and already dreading the answer.

“I called them. Told them I’m sick,” she said with a casual shrug, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

It was a lie—I knew it even before she spoke. Wura had a habit, a dangerous one. She lied as easily as breathing. Maybe it was how she kept the world from catching up to her, but to me, it was just plain recklessness. She treated her job like it was optional, like life owed her something just for showing up. It bothered me more than I ever let on.

Before I could speak again, she moved closer. Her gaze darkened with that familiar look, the one that always meant trouble. She reached out, running her fingers along my arm. There was something calculated in the way she touched me—too smooth, too practiced. I sighed, pulling the covers up to my chest like a shield.

“I’m tired, Wura. I really need to rest,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

But she didn’t flinch. She never did. That was the thing about Wura—when she wanted something, she came for it with the determination of a storm.

Her persistence grated on my nerves. I hadn’t slept well, and my head was still pounding from last night. I turned away from her and stared at the wall, trying to shut her out. My mind drifted briefly to Wura.

She had called me at least twice the night before, angry that I canceled on her again. I couldn’t blame her. She had every right to be upset.

“No show again, huh?” Wura said with a sly grin, as if reading my thoughts. “Poor Wura.”

I clenched my jaw. “Just let me rest, Wura. Please.”

She sat back, finally withdrawing, but not before I saw the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. That was the thing about Wura—she hated being told no. Still, she stood and walked toward the door, her steps light but deliberate.

As she left the room, the air felt easier to breathe, but the tension she carried lingered like smoke after a fire. I lay back on the pillow, my thoughts a tangle of frustration, regret, and exhaustion. Wura was a storm I couldn’t weather forever. And if I didn’t do something soon, she would sweep away everything I was trying to hold on to—including Wura herself.



That evening, the night air hung thick with the promise of something unusual. I was back on the night shift, as usual, working the lonely hours while the rest of the world slept. My supervisor had made it crystal clear—no day off until the weekend. The exhaustion was beginning to creep into my bones, but something else stirred in my veins that night. A mix of unease… and anticipation.

Earlier that day, a surprising notification had flashed across my phone screen. It was a bank alert. Madam Lizzy had wired a substantial sum to my account. My eyes widened when I saw the figure. It was more than generous—it was downright extravagant. For a fleeting moment, a thrill rushed through me. But then reality came crashing back in.

I told myself to stay grounded. Money like that doesn't come without strings—especially not from someone like Lizzy. I had to tread carefully. She wasn’t just any woman. She was married. And not to just any man. Her husband was influential, the kind of man whose name held weight in hushed conversations.

If it ever came to light that I was entangled with his wife—worse, if he heard that I was the one warming her bed while he was away—I wouldn’t just lose my job. Iwould lose everything. My reputation. My freedom. Maybe even my life.

She asked for it again and again,three times before dawn, and I gladly gave it to her.



***


The first light of dawn crept slowly through the curtains, casting pale streaks across the room where I sat, restless and wide awake. It was barely past five a.m., and the house was still cloaked in an uneasy silence. Outside, the world was just beginning to stir, but I had no desire to move yet—I was waiting, counting down the minutes until my relief would arrive at six.

My mind kept drifting back to the events of the early hours, to the madam and the strange, unexpected encounter wewould shared. Was it even real? The memory felt almost like a vivid dream, too surreal to be true. I kept replaying her words in my head—the way she looked at me, the hushed tone in which she’d spoken her impossible request. How could something so unbelievable have happened to me?

She had promised shewould transfer money to my account, said it would be a generous sum to compensate for what I was to do. I had hesitated for a moment but then handed her the account details, almost as if in a trance, caught between disbelief and a strange sense of inevitability.

Now, sitting there, the cool morning air brushing against my skin through the slightly opened window, I felt a strange cocktail of emotions: confusion, guilt, fear, but also a flicker of hope. What if this was my chance to finally change my circumstances? The promise of money was tempting—an escape from the grind I had been trapped in.

Yet beneath that hope was a gnawing doubt. What had I just agreed to? How would this change everything? Could I live with the consequences of crossing that forbidden line?

The clock on the wall ticked slowly, each second dragging on as I waited for the moment when I would be free from my duties and left alone with my thoughts. The morning stretched on, heavy with unspoken questions and the weight of a secret that could unravel everything.

I was startled to find Wura in my room that morning, sitting cross-legged on my bed like she owned the place. The pale light filtering through the curtains painted her face with soft shadows, but nothing about her presence felt soft to me. She was supposed to be at the supermarket by now—her shift usually started before the sun even got a proper yawn.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and already dreading the answer.

Yes, I could hardly believe what Madam Lizzy Ojoge had just asked of me. The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My mind reeled—this was more than a simple favor. This was crossing a line that felt both sacred and forbidden. Adultery. The very thought sent a jolt of disbelief and moral conflict crashing through me.

“This... this would be adultery,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded, the reality of the situation crashing down with brutal clarity. “How can you even ask me this?”

But Madam Lizzy’s eyes were steely, unwavering. Her voice cut through my hesitation like a knife.

“Stop sermonizing,” she snapped sharply, her tone laced with an urgency that brooked no argument. “Do what you’re asked to do. That’s all.”

She took a step closer, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the tension in the room. “If you prove yourself worthwhile, I promise you’ll be generously compensated. More than you ever imagined. Aren't you glad I came to you?”

Her words were intoxicating—and terrifying.

To touch her? To cross that forbidden line? It was beyond anything I had ever dared to imagine. A whirlwind of emotions surged inside me—shock, fear, temptation, and an undeniable, dangerous curiosity. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, the abyss below swallowing every certainty I once held.

Yet, despite the storm raging inside, I found myself nodding slowly, almost against my own will. The silence stretched taut between us as I silently made my decision. I would oblige her.

Did I have a choice? A part of my mind said I did. Joseph, the dreamer was faced with similar situation. Did he not say no to Madam Potipher?

My mind wavered. I was Femi son of Alase, not Joseph the dreamer.

Because sometimes, in the darkest of nights, the impossible becomes inevitable.

"I'm waiting, Femi."

"Okay, Madam," I found myself saying. I could scarcely believe my voice.

The woman smiled. "That's it. You've got to be a man."

She entered the cubicle meant for the security personnel. I needed no prodding to follow her. There, the kissing game or task began. Initially, I felt so cold and awkward touching her.

She initiated all the moves, which were all that I needed. When the growth of warmth came, I forgot about all restraints. I might as well enjoyed the whole thing, which was what I did.

It was like she was really starved of sex. She asked for it again and again,three times before dawn, and I gladly gave it to her.

What could she possibly want at this ungodly hour? I straightened up, forcing myself to remain calm as she drew closer.

“Femi,” she said softly, a faint tremor in her voice that didn’t quite match her usual composed demeanor. “It’s alright. I didn’t mean to startle you. I came to ask you for something.”

I blinked, confusion mixing with a strange sense of anticipation. “What can that be, madam?” I asked cautiously.

She hesitated for a moment, then glanced around as if to ensure we were truly alone.

“I’ve been watching you these past couple of weeks,” she said quietly. “You’ve been diligent, loyal, and discreet. Exactly the qualities I need right now.”

My heart started to pound. There was something unusual about the way she spoke, a gravity that pulled me closer despite the questions swirling in my mind.

“I need your help with a... special task,” she continued, her eyes searching mine for a reaction. “And you will be well compensated. More than you can imagine.”

A chill ran down my spine. Her husband was rarely home, often jetting off on one trip after another, leaving her, the children and the house helps isolated in this grand, empty house. What kind of task could she possibly mean? My mind raced through possibilities—none of them comforting.

She stepped nearer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I need intimacy, Femi. Someone to share these lonely nights with. To feel connected when my husband is so far away.”

The words hit me like a thunderclap. Shock, disbelief, and a swirl of conflicting emotions flooded through me. The madam, the woman I had always seen as distant and untouchable, was asking me to cross a boundary I never imagined I could approach.

For a moment, the silence between us was almost suffocating. I struggled to find words, to process the surreal request hanging heavy in the air. This was no ordinary favor. It was a gamble, a secret pact sealed in the shadows of the night.

And yet, beneath the shock, there was a flicker of something else — a dangerous curiosity, a whisper of temptation.


Yes, I could hardly believe what Madam Lizzy Ojoge had just asked of me. The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My mind reeled—this was more than a simple favor. This was crossing a line that felt both sacred and forbidden. Adultery. The very thought sent a jolt of disbelief and moral conflict crashing through me.

“This... this would be adultery,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded, the reality of the situation crashing down with brutal clarity. “How can you even ask me this?”

My heart skipped. She had never checked on my meals before. Something wasn’t right.

“It’s okay, ma,” I answered quickly, unsure of what else to say. I tried a smile.

She lingered a moment longer, as if studying my face. Then she turned and vanished once more into the night, her figure swallowed as she closed the door of the main building.

I sat frozen, my thoughts racing. Why was Madam suddenly so attentive, so caring? Was it guilt? Fear? Or was something about to happen—something she already knew and I didn't?

I was beginning to understand something unspoken lived within these walls at night—something that only revealed itself when the sun went down, and the help was expected to keep quiet.

And tonight, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be a witness… or a participant.

***


Sound from the main building receded. Just minutes after midnight, I found myself sitting upright in the worn-out chair beside the security cubicle that stood like a small fortress by the grand iron gate of the mansion I was assigned to guard. The night stretched endlessly before me, cloaked in shadows, pierced only by the occasional flicker of distant streetlights and the soft hum of the distant insects.

Despite the loneliness of the hour, I took pride in my work. Security wasn’t just a job to me; it was a responsibility I carried with honor. Every sound, every movement, every whisper in the darkness was a signal to stay alert. I could feel the weight of the keyring in my pocket—a reminder that I was the last line of defense for this sprawling estate.

The mansion itself loomed behind the gates, its windows like dark, watching eyes. I could almost hear the echo of past footsteps on the marble floors, the murmur of voices from rooms now silent, as if the house held secrets it was reluctant to share. But I pushed those thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The night was still young, and the air was thick with a strange mix of calm and anticipation. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, its sound sharp and sudden in the stillness. I took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze brush against my face. It reminded me of home—of the quiet village where I was raised.

My thoughts drifted to my mother, sitting by the dim light of our little hut, waiting for news of me. She was a wonderful mother, what the Yoruba called ' tooto.' I could almost hear her soft, reassuring voice, the way she always ended her prayers with a hopeful blessing.

“I will always pray for you, Femi,” she used to say, her eyes full of unwavering faith. She believed in me even when times were hard, and that belief was the fire that kept me going.

I clenched my fists, feeling the determination rise within me. I prayed, too—prayed for a better future, for a chance to rise above the struggles of my past. A better job, a steady income, a way to take care of my mother and finally give her the life she deserved. I wanted to settle down somewhere safe, somewhere our worries couldn’t reach.



---

It was well past one a.m., the world outside cloaked in heavy silence. The house was mostly dark, save for the faint glow of the moon filtering through the windows. I had been trying to catch some sleep but found myself tossing and turning, drifting between restless dozes and wakefulness.

The sounds of footsteps startled me — someone was approaching from the main building.

Through the dim light, a shadowy figure emerged. It was the madam herself, moving with a quiet urgency that immediately set my nerves on edge. What could she possibly want at this ungodly hour? I straightened up, forcing myself to remain calm as she drew closer