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EPISODE 86 - Still Breathing.

They walked me out of the cellar like they were escorting a problem they hadn’t decided what to do with yet.

The floodlights hit me hard when I stepped outside. It felt wrong — like the lights hadn’t gotten the memo that I’d just spent the last couple of hours inside the cellar. But why am I even complaining? I endured worse inside the Pit at Kirikiri.

Cynthia walked towards us and handed me my phone.
I stared at it for a second before taking it.
It felt heavier than before.
I looked at Cynthia. What she told me earlier rang in my head, but before I could even decide whether to press her on it or let it go, she turned around and vanished into the mansion.

The men behind me nudged me forward. I walked on. Straight toward where the cars were parked.

The Dogs paced around as usual, but they didn’t even mind my presence.

Toyosi stood beside the Prado. The same car I drove in earlier, thinking I would just hand over the ledger, collect the antidote, and get the hell out — never to come back again.
Not knowing I’d end up killing a human being instead.

For a moment, I just stood there.

Toyosi nodded at the car.
“Get in.”

I got in.
The door shut with a dull thud that sounded louder in my head than it should have.

She walked around, got into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.

We drove out of the premises in silence.
The gates closed behind us like a chapter snapping shut.

She didn’t say anything until we were far enough that the mansion was meters between us.

Then she glanced at me briefly.
“How are you feeling?”

The question felt misplaced.
Almost offensive.

I didn’t answer.

She tried again.
“I know today wasn’t easy.”

Still nothing from me.

She took out a small bottle containing some liquid from her bag and placed it carefully on the glove box.
“Here’s the antidote. But like I said, the girl will be fine without it.”

I think she expected me to be happy with that information or react one way or another, but when she got nothing, she looked back at me briefly and spoke again.
“You can call your girl to confirm what I just said.”

I didn’t pay her any attention. I was just trying my best to keep my anger buried before I did something I’d regret.

“What’s wrong with you?” she suddenly lashed out, frustration creeping into her voice.
“I’m trying to have a conversation here. Do you even know what I had to pass through before my father allowed you to walk out of there? Eh?” She paused again, waiting for a reaction.
“Okay, if you don’t want to talk, let’s leave it that way.”

Then silence.
Only the soft purr of the car gliding seamlessly through the quiet road that led back to the mansion.

We were like that for two minutes before she blurted out again.
“I know what you’re going through. Just take it easy, okay? Don’t be too hard on yourself… Keep your head low and things will be fine. You hear me, Darous?”

I didn’t answer.

“Darous…did you hear me?” she asked again.

“That we’re in the same car doesn’t mean we need to talk. Just drive.”
That was the only response she got from me.

She shrugged and continued driving. Then, after another few minutes, she spoke again.
“It’s strange though,” she said, eyes still on the road, “I lost two men in my life within one month. And somehow you were involved in their deaths.”

My fingers curled slowly as the anger I had buried deep inside ordered a tractor from Temu and started breaking its way to the top.
Each of her words was like sand, covering the calm and freeing the anger I was trying to keep buried.

“First, my ex-boyfriend… and now Chuka.”

That was it.
The tractor broke through.
There was nothing left to hold the anger down.

“Toyosi, stop the car.”

She frowned. “What?—”

“I said stop the fucking car!”

She hit the brakes.
The Prado pulled over by the roadside, trees lining both sides like silent witnesses.

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EPISODE 85 - No Safe Detour

After Aristotle ordered Darous to be taken to the cellar, Toyosi’s heart began to race. Every second from that moment mattered.

She hadn’t planned for this. Not for Chuka to end up dead. Not for anyone to die today. But Chuka was gone. And despite all he had done, Toyosi still felt the weight of responsibility pressing on her.

She had wanted power so badly that she poisoned her father’s mind, made him see Chuka as a threat. Now this was the result.

But she couldn’t stay in that feeling. Darous wouldn’t last a night in the cellar.
She knew her father too well. Darous’ life was over the moment he handed the ledger to him.

She knew this wasn’t just about Darous. There was the chief boss herself waiting at home for her boy to come back.
Tiffany.

If Darous didn’t get home on time, Tiffany would worry. Her worry would turn into anger — the kind of anger that never thinks straight.

Toyosi knew this after six years of living with her. And if Tiffany’s anger ever reached her father, Aristotle, the outcome would be dangerous.

Toyosi couldn’t bear the thought of Tiffany dying. This was her chance to fix something — not for herself, not for power, but to protect Tiffany. She loved her cousin like a sister, even if Tiffany didn’t see it that way. At least not yet. Who could blame her?

Toyosi swallowed hard, forcing down her hatred for her father. She despised him, but she had to act loyal. She had to make him believe she still loved him, or at least give him no reason to doubt her loyalty.

The mansion was cold and silent. She moved quietly across the polished floors toward the sitting room in her father’s wing.

The sitting room door stood ahead. Inside, Aristotle was talking with his men.

Toyosi stepped forward and coughed once — sharp and controlled, just enough to announce herself.

Aristotle’s eyes turned to her.
He raised his hand slowly. The men stiffened.
“Leave us,” he said evenly.

The men obeyed, slipping out like shadows, leaving Toyosi alone with her father.

Her stomach twisted. Her heart pounded. But she lifted her shoulders and stood firm. She had to make him listen, no matter what.

She stepped fully into the room, meeting Aristotle’s gaze. Steady. Controlled.

This was no longer about power. It was about life and death. And Toyosi was the only one who could change the outcome.

Toyosi cleared her throat.
For the first time since she was a child, she didn’t know how to speak to her father without rehearsing every word in her head first.

“Daddy,” she said softly.
“What do you intend to do with Darous?”

Aristotle didn’t answer immediately.
He walked to the bar, poured himself a drink, and took a slow sip — unhurried, deliberate — as if the question didn’t matter.

Toyosi watched him from behind.
She had seen this posture before.
The calm that always came before blood.

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Episode 84 – After The Push.

My hands were still on Chuka’s chest when reality dawned on me.

My fingers shook as I pressed harder against his neck, hoping pressure alone could bring him back.
Nothing happened.

It's official. I, Darousmart Emmanuel, the so‑called son of thunder, had just killed a man.

My stomach twisted. Bile burned the back of my throat as the weight of those words sank in.
I crawled backward, my palms scraping against the wet tiles, staring at Chuka’s face as if it might suddenly blink and curse me for panicking in the first place.
But his eyes only stayed open and empty.

My chest started to shake before I realized I was crying.
Not sobbing.
Just these broken, animal sounds tearing out of me as my brain tried — and failed — to understand what it meant to take a life.

The irony is,I had imagined killing Chuka a thousand times before today.

In my head, it was always perfect. Always justified. Always clean like a whistle.

But seeing his dead body now? Like this?
It was ugly.

I didn’t mean to kill him…
I just pushed him aside to avoid his body colliding on me after all the beatings I'd taken from him earlier…

Every excuse I tried to form died before it fully formed inside my head.

And for the first time in my life, I understood something terrifying — once life leaves a body, however sorry you are totally becomes irrelevant.

Around us, no one moved.
Not a single word or gasps

Just grown men holding their breath, waiting for permission from the boss to react.

I slowly lifted my head.
Aristotle was watching.
He didn't look alarmed.
Just… observing.
His face was calm, unreadable — like he was watching rain fall, and still deciding whether it was an inconvenience or a blessing.

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Episode 83 – When Luck Picks A Side.


“…This child?”
The words left my mouth before my brain could catch up.

Cynthia stopped walking after hearing me repeat the last part of what she just said.

She just… paused. Like someone who realized they’d stepped on a landmine and was waiting to see if it would explode.

I stared at her back.
“What did you just say? Cynthia.” I asked. Slowly. Like my ears weren’t sure they heard right.

“Nothing. You’re hearing things.”

I frowned. The laughter in my head was still echoing, but that sentence had sliced through it like cold water.
“You said this child,” I pressed. “Repeat what you said.”

She waved her hand dismissively and started walking again.
“I was joking. Don’t mind me.”

I grabbed her wrist hard.
“Tell me, Cynthia… what do you mean by that?”

She shot me a sharp look.
“See as that weed is already making you misbehave. I said it’s nothing. Leave me alone, jare.”

She yanked her hand free from my grip, her voice rising.
“You’re hurting me.”

I followed her, my mind trying to rewind the last ten seconds on low battery.

Something about her tone didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded like regret. Like someone who said something when they didn't mean to say it yet.

Before I could press her again—


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Episode 82 – Smoke And Mirrors.

The moment Aristotle’s voice cut through the air, I froze. Not like the type you see in movies. I wasn't shaking, I wasn't screaming. I just… stopped.

My hands clutched the ledger like it could protect me from what was coming.

I looked up at the balcony. He was still there—calm, relaxed, leaning on the railing. His eyes followed me like I was the show he had been waiting for all morning. Suddenly, I felt small. Very small.

"I’ll set the dogs on you if you don’t tell me where you’re going right now," Aristotle said. His voice was calm but carried a threat that made me shake all over.

“I… I just need to go to the toilet,” I said in almost whispers.

“Guards’ toilet is over there...why are you moving towards the car?” he said, pointing lazily toward the far end of the fence.

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EPISODE 81 – Dogs And Gods

I woke up to the soft tap of Tiffany’s hand on my lap.
I opened my eyes slowly.

Her face was calm, but I knew her well enough to see what she was hiding — the tight jaw, the way she avoided my eyes for half a second longer than normal.

Her anger mode was already running at full capacity. No verbal confirmation required — the algorithm had already processed the data.

She had called me the night before. More than five times. I hadn’t picked up any of them.

Memories of the previous night rushed back into my mind: my encounter with the Suya gang, Chuka planning to dump me into the ocean, Aristotle stepping in to save the day, and finally, the assignment he gave me — that I should bring Chuka’s punishment along with the ledger.
My shoulders dropped as the weight of those words settled on me again.

I checked the time.
12:27 p.m. Past noon.
I hadn’t even realized I had slept that long.

“Morning, beautiful lady,” I said, forcing a weak smile but her face remained hard.
“Why are you looking at me like they just told you I impregnated someone.”

I reached for her hand with another smile, trying to lighten the mood.

She didn’t smile back.
Instead, she reached behind her and dropped a thick folder onto my lap.

The weight of it surprised me.
I looked down at it, then back at her.

“What’s this?”

“The ledger,” she said. Her voice was flat.

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Episode 81

Episode 80 – Leverage.

Toyosi’s finger tightened around the gun, ready to pull the trigger — when she heard her name.

“Omotoyosi.”

The voice cut through the air like a blade.
Her mother’s voice was low, steady and careful.

Toyosi froze.
The gun stayed raised, pointed at her father’s head, but her breath faltered, breaking into uneven gasps.

Her mother stepped into the doorway, her presence filling the room without force, without threat — only the weight of love and fear.

“Omotoyosi,” she said again, softer this time, almost pleading, like someone approaching a wounded animal they loved too much to startle.

The sound of her name, spoken in that tone, was enough to slice through the rage boiling inside her. Enough to make her finger hesitate on the trigger.

Tears were already running down her face, even before she realized she was crying.

“Don’t,” her mother said softly. “Please don’t do this.”

Toyosi swallowed hard, her throat burning.
“He has to die,” she said, her voice shaking despite how badly she tried to keep it firm. “Mother… he has to pay. For everything.”

Her mother stepped fully into the room now. She stopped a few feet away — close enough to reach her if she needed to, far enough not to push her over the edge.

“For all the people he made me destroy,” Toyosi continued, the words tumbling out of her. “For everything he turned me into. I did things for him — terrible things — because I thought I was earning my place. Because I thought one day he would hand everything over to me.”

Her chest rose and fell sharply.
“I just found out I was never even in the conversation.”

Her mother closed her eyes briefly, like someone absorbing a blow she had been expecting for years.

“Omotoyosi, I know it hurts,” she said.

Toyosi turned on her sharply.
“You have no idea, mother.” Her voice cracked.
“You don’t have the faintest idea of what I’m going through right now…”

Her mother stepped a foot closer. Her own eyes were red, almost watery too.
“Omotoyosi, believe me, I do. I know how it feels…”

“You do?” Toyosi spat.

“Yes…” her mother’s voice cracked.

“How then did you stay? How did you continue staying with him knowing all this?”
She gestured angrily at the bed.
“At this?” Toyosi hissed, pointing at the two naked women sleeping beside her father. “You wake up every day and see this rubbish and you’re just… okay? Doesn’t it make you sick?”

Her mother looked at the bed. Looked at Aristotle. Then back at her daughter.

“I made my choice a long time ago,” she said calmly. “Not because I liked it. Not because it didn’t hurt me... But because leaving wasn’t an option. Your father made sure of that.”

Toyosi laughed bitterly through her tears.
“So you just accepted it?”

“I don’t see any choice,” her mother replied. “But you have a choice now, my daughter. Don’t ruin your life for this bastard. He’s not worth it, Omotoyosi…”

Toyosi shook her head violently.
“It’s too late. Look at me. Look at what he turned me into.”

Her voice broke into a muffled scream.

Aristotle only snored on, deep in sleep, his chest rising and falling with the heavy rhythm of a man lost in dreams. The two naked women beside him didn’t stir. One shifted slightly, curling deeper into the sheets; the other lay sprawled, her arm draped across his waist. Neither of them reacted to the sobbing sounds that filled the room.

Toyosi’s cries echoed against the walls, raw and jagged, but to them it was nothing. They remained wrapped in their drunken sleep, blind to the storm unraveling just a few feet away.

Toyosi slammed her free hand against her chest, then against the wall, as if trying to tear the pain out of herself. Her whole body trembled, sweat mixing with tears.

"Please don't do this...I'm begging you..." The mother said as she stood close, watching her daughter collapse under the weight of betrayal, while Aristotle and his companions slept on — untouched, unaware, and unbothered.

Toyosi looked at her father again with contempt, swallowed hard and continued.
“I am already ruined! He made me a monster, mother. I'm a monster mother....monsters don’t get choices!”

Her mother stepped closer now and gently placed her hand over the gun. She didn’t grab it. She didn’t force it. She just rested her hand there — steady, warm and unshaking.

“If you pull this trigger, Omotoyosi” she said quietly, “you won’t be punishing only him. You’ll be handing your life over to him for the final time.”

Toyosi’s grip weakened.
“He doesn’t deserve to live,” She whispered.

“And he doesn’t deserve your future either,” her mother said softly. “Don’t throw your life away for a man who was never worth it from the beginning.”

Toyosi’s shoulders collapsed.
The gun slipped from her fingers.

Her mother caught it immediately and pulled it away, holding Toyosi as her legs gave out. Toyosi cried openly now — deep, ugly sobs that came from somewhere far inside her chest.

Her mother held her tightly, stroking her hair.
“It’s over,” she murmured. “You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

Toyosi shook her head against her mother’s shoulder, her voice breaking between sobs.
“Mother… I should have listened to you. From the very beginning. You warned me. You told me what he was, but I thought I knew better. I thought I was strong enough to handle him.”

Her words spilled out, heavy and trembling.
“I nearly ruined Tiffany’s life. I betrayed my own friend… ah… aiye mi ti bajẹ.” Her voice cracked as she bit her lips hard, the shame cutting deeper than the words themselves.

Her mother didn’t reach for her. She knew Toyosi needed to pour it all out, to feel the full weight of her mistakes.

“I even drugged a little girl. I’ve destroyed every meaningful relationship I ever had. I thought I was earning my place, proving myself… but all I did was break myself instead.”

"Don't be too hard on yourself..."

Toyosi pulled back slightly, her face wet with tears, her eyes searching her mother’s.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I should have trusted you. I should have believed you.”

Her mother cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing away the tears.
“My daughter,” she said, her own voice trembling, “you were blinded by love and ambition. It's not your fault ....the fault lies with us your parents for not protecting you...But you are not beyond saving. You are not beyond redemption. What matters now is that you see the truth. And that you choose different path from now on.”

Toyosi sobbed harder, clinging to her mother like a child.
“I regret everything,” she cried. “Every single thing I did for him. I regret not listening to you. Mother.”

Her mother held her tighter, her own tears falling now.
“Then let this regret be the beginning of your freedom,” she whispered. “Don't let it be the end of you.”

She guided Toyosi out of the room without waking anyone. Down the hallway. Into her own bedroom.

They lay on the same bed, mother and daughter, Toyosi curled into her like she used to as a child. Her tears didn’t stop for a long time. Her mother kept on assuring her that everything would be fine.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed her mother.
But Toyosi stayed awake. Sleep was doing a terrible job of carrying her to dreamland.

An hour passed.
Her chest still ached. Her mind refused to rest.

Every time she closed her eyes, the video replayed itself. Her father’s voice. His smile. His betrayal. The words cut deeper each time, like knives twisting inside her.

Toyosi turned on her side, staring into the dark. The silence of the house pressed down on her, but inside her head it was chaos — memories, regrets, and the echo of her mother’s warning.

Carefully, she slipped out of bed.

Toyosi moved quietly through the house, barefoot, every step was well measured.
The guards at the cellar stiffened when they saw her.

Even at this hour, even with sleep still clinging to their eyes, her presence carried weight.

“Open the door please,” she said casually.

They exchanged looks, then moved. Keys clinked. Metal complained. The heavy door eventually groaned and was opened.

She stepped inside.

Kalu lay on the bare floor, one arm bent awkwardly under his body, chains biting into his wrists and ankles. His breathing was shallow but steady. Sleep had taken him the way exhaustion takes a man — without permission.

Toyosi stood there longer than she meant to.

Her chest tightened.
The revelation she just got had finally opened her eyes to the cruelty of her father. She finally saw how Kalu was suffering.

She had a hand in how this man lost his wife, and how she still used his daughter in a cruel way just to help her father.

This was just… wrong.
She crouched beside Kalu slowly, like someone approaching a fragile thing that might break if touched the wrong way.

“Kalu,” she whispered.
No response.

She slipped off her jacket and carefully folded it, then placed it under his head to lift it slightly off the cold floor.

His brow creased faintly, but he didn’t wake.
She adjusted his position, as gently as the chains allowed, easing his shoulder, straightening his leg.

Her hands trembled.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know it doesn’t change anything… but I’m sorry.”

Her eyes burned again.
She reached for the water bottle she had brought and tipped a little onto her palm, wiping the dried blood from his temple, slow and careful, like she was afraid of hurting him more.

This wasn’t mercy.
It was guilt trying to breathe.

She stepped back into the corridor and closed the cellar door behind her.

The guards straightened immediately when they saw her again. Confusion flickered across their faces.

“I need the keys to his chains,” Toyosi said straight.

One of them frowned. “Madam… your father—”

“I know what my father said,” she cut in, not raising her voice. “Now I'm telling you I need the keys to the damn chains.”

They hesitated. Looking at her like she had lost her mind.

“Just give me the keys…” she continued, calmer now.

“He can barely stand. I just want him more comfortable. He's not going anywhere.”

“That man is dangerous,” the second guard said carefully.

Toyosi met his eyes. Held them. Her voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, but heavy enough to sting.
“How do you live with yourselves every day, keeping a man under lock and chain? A human being. Do you even think about that?”

The guards shifted uneasily.

“I’m not releasing him,” she added quickly. “I only want to take the chains off his body. You can put them back on whenever you want — when you take him out for sunlight, or whatever. But right now, he doesn’t need to be treated like an animal.”

Silence.

Then, slowly, the first guard reached into his belt and brought out the keys. The metal clinked softly as he placed them in her palm.

“Thank you,” she said.

She turned and walked back down into the cellar.

Kalu stirred when the chains loosened around his sore wrists. His eyes opening sharply, body tensing out of instinct.

“Easy,” Toyosi said quickly. “It’s me.”

His breathing slowed — the internal scanner in his head blinked awake, processed the face, and spat out the result: Identity confirmed. Toyosi. The one person he least expected to see at that hour.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.
"Are you releasing me?"

She knelt and unlocked the final restraint on his legs, the sound of metal releasing echoing in the room.

“No...” she said. “I can’t free you completely. But you don’t deserve to be chained like an animal.”

He sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists, testing his limbs.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. What if your father finds out?,” he said quietly.

She let out a hollow breath.
“He won't find out.”

They sat in silence for a moment — two people standing in the ruins of a system that had crushed them both.

Then the words started spilling out of her mouth. She told him all that had happened from the street altercation with Chuka, how it all played out the way Kalu had predicted. And how Chuka had made her seen the perfect picture of what her father had in mind for her. She told him everything.

"All the things I did… every person I destroyed… every line I crossed… I was just playing a role written for me.”
She laughed once. Short. Empty.
“A pawn,” she said. “A well-trained pawn.”

Kalu listened without interrupting.

“You know I nearly killed him,” she added. “My father. I almost pulled the trigger.”

He looked up at her sharply.
“But you didn’t,” he said curiously.

“No. My mother stopped me.”

“That was the smartest thing you’ve done tonight.”

She frowned. “You think he doesn't deserve it?”

“No..but I think killing him immediately would’ve been a mistake,” Kalu replied. “Men like your father don’t sit on that much power without contingency plans.
As he is, he definitely has loyal soldiers. Instructions that only activate if he dies in a mysterious unexplained way.”

Her stomach tightened.

“If he goes down wrong,” he continued, “everything could burn. And not just him. You. Me. People you don’t even know yet.”

Toyosi looked away and thought about it briefly.

“I hate that you’re right,” she said.

“I know.”

She stood up slowly. "Well, I'm going to bed. I need to sleep. My head is heavy right now."

She patted him on the shoulder.

“There’s something else,” Kalu said quickly. “You need to warn Darous and Tiffany.”

She turned back. “About what?”

“The ledger,” he said. “He can't have the ledger— you can't let him have it. That book is the only leverage keeping those guys alive, trust me. Once he has it, we all lose whatever little control we have left.”

She nodded immediately. No hesitation.
“Again...I hate that you are right..." She sighed. "I’ll tell them,” she said. “I'll make sure of it.”

“Good.”

She picked up the jacket again and adjusted it around him, more deliberately this time.

“I don’t know how this ends,” she said quietly. “But I know I’m done being a pawn.”

Kalu looked at her for a long moment.

“Welcome to the family,” he said with a dry smile.

She turned and walked out, locking the door behind her.

The moment she left, Kalu rose to his feet.
He walked slowly around the cellar — the first time in weeks he had moved freely without chains.

His mind was sharp, his resolve unbroken. With the way his plans were unfolding now, he knew it was only a matter of time before Aristotle paid for all the pain he had inflicted on his life.

All Kalu needed was patience.
The right moment to strike.


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Episode 79- Fault Lines.

The guards’ quarters sat behind the main building — a low block of rooms built only for use, not comfort.

Inside, two guards sat facing each other, boots off, rifles resting against the wall.

An android phone lay silent on the table, the match already long over — but the disappointment still heavy in the room.

“Guy… I still can’t believe am,” one of them said, shaking his head slowly.

“AFCON semi-final… we try small.”

The other guard sighed deeply.
“Four–two. Imagine. Once it reached penalties, I already knew we are going to lose.”

“Chukwueze messed up make we no lie.,” the first guard added bitterly. “As in clean miss. No confidence at all.”

“What of that Bruno own,” the second replied. “That one pained me the most. Keeper didn’t even struggle.”

They both went quiet for a moment.

“Penalties are wicked mehn,” the first guard muttered. “Na mind game. Once your head is gone, it’s over.”

“True,” the other nodded.

That was when the door opened.

Toyosi stepped in.
Their eyes lifted immediately.

She smiled.
She let her blouse fall just enough for their eyes to rest on her cleavage in the dim light — not because she enjoyed it, but because distraction was easier than applying force.

Both men straightened without realizing it.

“Gentlemen,” she said softly, lifting the basket. “This is for tonight. You did well keeping things under control.”

Their eyes stayed exactly where she wanted them — on her cleavage.

“Thank you, madam,” they managed to chorus.

She glanced at the table, then back at them.

“So… what was the scores?” she asked lightly.

One of them scoffed.
“Ah madam, dem wound us o. That match broke my heart. Na penalty dem use comot us.”

Toyosi shook her head slowly, pretending sympathy.

“Penalties are cruel,” she said. “You do everything right for one-twenty minutes, then one kick decides your fate.”

The second guard nodded.
“Exactly. One mistake and that’s the end.”

She reached into the basket and broke the seal on the bottle. The soft click pulled their attention back to her hands — and then back to her chest as she leaned slightly forward to pour.

She poured vodka into three glasses.
“Let’s drink to forgetting bad penalties,” she said calmly.

They laughed.
She handed them their glasses. They drank quickly. The liquor warmed them. Their shoulders dropped. Their tension faded. Their laughter came too easily.

Toyosi took small, careful sips from her own glass, watching with calculation.

“Madam, you sabi football o,” one of them said, already loose.
She smiled.

“Well, you learn a lot when you watch people miss their chances.” She said with a smile.

When she was sure they had drunk enough to forget their duty, she placed her empty glass back into the basket.

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Episode 78 – The Next Move

All eyes turned to me as Aristotle turned me to a sudden judge in the ongoing situation.

Chuka, was quiet, but one could see the fear in his scarred face.

"Boss, abeg... please, this is a big misunderstanding..." Chuka pleaded, sweating hard.

Aristotle didn’t even look at him. He only raised his hand and before anyone could blink, one of the guards kicked Chuka hard on the legs and he fell to the floor.

He tried to get back up, but Aristotle signalled for the guard to press his head down. The guard obeyed instantly, boot grinding Chuka’s face into the ground.

Aristotle then cocked his head in a questioning way at me. Meaning I should respond.

Honestly, my mind was blank.

Punishment? For the same man who had been nothing but a thorn in my life since the day I knew him?

Memories began to rush in. The night he kidnapped Jude. How he tortured him, used him, and forced me into the Circle.

The first time I met Aristotle, Chuka was the one kicking my legs each time I failed to answer or dared to lie. And now tonight, he was already planning to drop me inside the ocean—if not for the devil himself stepping in.

I stood there torn. What punishment could fit him perfectly? To tell Aristotle to give him that twisted sex‑game punishment? To send him to rot in the pit in Kirikiri for three years? Or to kill him outright?

One thing was certain: if I let him go free, my life would never remain the same. He would hunt me down, especially now that I had corroborated Toyosi’s allegations against him.

Aristotle’s mask tilted toward me again. His voice was calm, but it carried weight like the announcement of Alonso’s sacking from Real Madrid.
“Darous… tell me the perfect punishment.”

I cleared my throat, ready to speak, when Toyosi stepped closer to her father. She leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

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Episode 77 – The Arrival


The moment he appeared, everything else in that environment turned into the background.

Nobody was expecting him to show up in that type of environment.

Behind him came two men — and even before one could notice the guns in their hands, you already knew these ones were not here to play.
They were built like problems that you could never solve peacefully no matter how hard you tried.

One wore a plain dark shirt and trousers, sleeves hugging arms that looked like they'd broken people's necks before and never bothered to apologize.

His gun rested easy in his hand — like an extension of his body.

The other guard had a jacket on, eyes moving slowly but thoroughly, counting faces, counting exits, counting how many people were standing around.
His gun was already up.

And then there was Toyosi herself. She walked in behind them like someone who had already known how the night would unfold.

Black top. Dark jeans. Simple flat shoes — sensibly quiet.

Her hair was packed neatly behind her back. She looked relaxed.
Her eyes moved fast, scanning faces, weapons, positions — and then they found mine.

She didn't smile at me. She just looked at me like: you see where your stubbornness has brought you.

Then the boss himself, Aristotle, walked forward slowly — like a landlord inspecting his property. His mask, as always, concealed his face, turning him into a shadow more than a man.

The suya gang, unfortunately, didn't know who he was.
The skinny one among them in a singlet stepped forward, suya oil still shining proudly on his fingers.

"Hey! Who be this lagbaja?” he barked, lifting his hand like a traffic warden trying to stop a speeding truck.

But before anyone could explain to him that the truck he was trying to stop had no brakes, one of Aristotle’s men moved fast. He grabbed the skinny guy by the neck with one hand, lifted him clean off the ground, and landed a heavy slap straight across his chest.

The sound cracked through the night air like a plank hitting wet concrete.

The singlet guy flew back, staggered, bent double, and started coughing like his lungs had just resigned from their duty.

Everything he had been eating for the past few hours came out of him — suya, pepper, onions, oil — all pouring onto the ground like sacrifice.

He tried to speak again but only pepper and water came out.
The rest of the suya gang panicked. Their hands flew into their pockets.

Petrol bottles came out like party souvenirs.That was when Aristotle's guards raised their guns fully at them.
"Drop it," one of them said calmly.



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Episode 76 – The Suya Gang

Chuka and I stood there, facing each other like two men who had already agreed that someone wouldn’t survive the night — we just hadn’t decided who it was going to be.

“Give me the antidote,” I said again, still looking straight into his eyes.
“And I will give you every copy of that video. Every single one. I swear.”

He looked at me calmly, then let out a short scoff.
“Your words don’t move mountains here, boy. You should watch your tongue — you might lose it one day.”

“I’m just telling you…” I said.
“I have a little girl suffering at home, and the only thing standing between her and recovery is sitting in your pocket.”
I paused.
“So pardon me if I don’t feel like waiting around any longer.”

Chuka took a slow step closer.
“You forget who you’re talking to, boy. No one runs mouth at me and walks away freely… I’m the boss.”

I shook my head.
“Any man who must say I’m the boss is no true boss.”
I looked him straight in the eye.
“Mind you, the first day you introduced me to Aristotle, you called him the boss.”
I tilted my head slightly.
“So how exactly are you now the boss?”

His eyes hardened, but his voice stayed flat.
“There are things you know, and there are things you don’t even know you don’t know…” he quoted his usual verse.
“Aristotle owns the throne. But I’m the blade right under it. If you step on it anyhow — you will bleed out slowly.”

I nodded calmly.
“Well, Mr. Blade, I got my shoes with me…you can bring it on. I’ve got enough leverage to make the boss toss your ass down the river.”

He chuckled. “You mean that video?”

I leaned in just a little.
“Look, C.K., I don’t want any problem at all. Just give me the antidote, and I’ll delete the video. You’ll never hear from me again.”

“Is that all you got to say?”

I respond with a nod.

Then he spoke again, still calm and composed.
“Tell me Darous, what’s stopping me from just taking your phone right now and putting a bullet into your skull?”

I let out a small, dry chuckle.
“You really want to do that?”

He shrugged. “Yes… I don’t see any reason why I should allow you to keep giving me headaches. Just because the boss wants something from you doesn't mean I have to put up with your crap.”

I stepped closer to him.
“Killing me will be the biggest mistake you ever make in your entire life.”

His eyes flew wide.

I pressed on.
“Let me tell you — the moment anything happens to me, those videos are going straight to the public.”

His eyes flicked — just once.

“I already have them scheduled for automatic release on multiple platforms. The time is locked.”
I stepped even closer, until our eyes were inches apart.
“And I’m the only one who can stop it.”
I lowered my voice.
“And I can only cancel it when I’m home safe — exactly when I know the antidote has worked.”

Chuka nodded slowly, licking his lips.
“So, that cute story is your strategy abi?”

“It’s not a story… it’s a statement of fact.”

“No..no... listen… it’s a cute story. Every street dog thinks he can bite until the top dog show his fangs. You really need to learn how to roll with the top dogs...” That sounded more like a warning.

“You don watch too many animal documentaries, for you to think you can use those lines to intimidate me. No… that one na Darous of the past.”

“I can see that. I won’t lie — you’ve really changed in the few weeks you spent in prison. I heard you even won some fights in the yard…” He paused. “Maybe that’s why you suddenly think you can take me on and challenge my position.”

“Look, C.K…” I tapped his shoulder gently. He gave me an audacious look, like he was contemplating slapping my face. I didn’t care.
“Wait till Sunday before you preach. Right now, I don’t have time. As I’m talking to you, that little girl must have suffered another breakdown. She doesn’t have much time. So just give me the antidote and let me go.”

He sighed, straightened his shirt, and licked his lips briefly.
“Let’s cut the crap talk then. Let’s get to business…”

I released a smile straight from my brain’s factory the moment he said that.

He leaned back on the car then snapped his fingers.

A few seconds later, someone stepped out of the shadows.
Clean leather suit with calm steps.

It was Cynthia.

She walked toward us like this was a normal business meeting, and the situation was just another file waiting to be processed.

“Cynthia?” I smiled
at Chuka. “Of course. Like I said earlier, I know people like you never travel light.”

I looked straight at Cynthia. Her eyes stayed unblinking, unreadable.
Whatever these people were making her do, it was really affecting her. She didn’t even look like her former self anymore. She looked pale, almost whitish.

Chuka coughed gently. He didn’t look at me. He placed a hand on Cynthia’s shoulder.
“You see this your friend? I don’t think you know what she’s capable of doing with computers and gadgets. Once I take that phone from you, she will unlock it — whether you give her the password or not. It doesn’t matter.” He smiled.

I knew he wasn’t bluffing. I’d seen her do something even harder — the day Kalu invaded Aristotle’s former mansion, she turned a locked system into an open diary.

“Now you see,” Chuka continued. “You’ve got a big liver. But this is a very stupid move.”

Cynthia’s eyes locked onto mine. Cold. Focused. Probably calculating how long it would take to break me digitally. But I was sure of one thing: she would never allow them to kill me… not unless her own life was hanging in the balance.

I remembered how she had once tried to make me lose the sex-game we played with Aristotle. She had called it nothing personal — just survival.

Without placing all my hopes on her saving me, I played my last card. The only card I had left.

“If you think I came here empty-handed like a goat… then you’re dumber than you think.”

Chuka laughed hard at that.

“My guys are around the corner,” I continued.
“If you touch me, they will move in on you.”
I paused.
“All they are waiting for is just my signal to come and burn your ugly ass alive.”

"Really?" He chuckled with an unusual composure.

"Trust me, you don't want to find out." I answered firmly.

Chuka stared at me for a second.
He reached into his pocket and drew out his gun smoothly, resting it in his other palm.

Fear slammed into my chest when I saw the gun.
The way he was holding it shows he was ready to shoot me dead unless I acted fast.

No time to waste again. It's time to call on my hired guards. The Suya Gang.

“Dawno 8! Dawno 8!” I shouted in quick succession.

“Present, sir!” came the response that filled the air.

From the other side of the road, the Suya gang appeared.
But they weren’t running towards us like I expected.

Instead, they walked in carrying plates of suya, oil shining on their fingers, their mouths still busy.

Behind them, three unfamiliar men appeared — guns in hand, eyes cold and steady.

I didn’t know who these extra guys were, but a part of me felt oddly relieved. At least the suya gang still thought ahead enough to bring in new muscles with guns. It only meant one thing: I’d have to add small change to their balance later.

I was expecting a nervous reaction from Chuka as my guys showed themselves, but instead, Chuka laughed as they got closer to us.

“These guys are your backup plans?”

Chuka glanced at their plates filled with suya as they stopped beside him.
He dipped his hand into one of the plates, picked out a piece of meat, and put it in his mouth.
He began to chew.

That action alone got me wondering what was really going on — until Chuka spoke again.

"Dude, see, all it took to scatter your whole backup plan was just suya… and a better offer for these guys.”

He burst out laughing once more.
“Checkmate, brother.”

My brain was still struggling to comprehend what was going on, even as his words dropped hints of the situation.

Chuka looked at my confused face and exhaled slowly.
“While you were busy playing chess, I was already breaking boards for breakfast.”

Those words landed heavy in my chest.
I looked at the suya gang members one by one.
They looked back at me without saying a word.

I stood there, still hoping this was some kind of misunderstanding or some form of prank.

“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Why are you standing with them?”

Nobody answered immediately.
They just kept chewing.
One of them sucked suya oil off his fingers before finally looking at me.

“Alaye… no hard feelings o.”

That sentence alone slapped me hard on the chest.

From “Oga,” to “Chairman”… now suddenly reduced to just “Alaye”?
The downgrade was so fast it felt like my title got demoted in real time — like watching my respect collapse from CEO to street tout in one breath.

But I swallowed it, managed to hide the shock, and kept my face calm.

“No hard feelings?” I repeated.
“Are you joking right now?”

Another one chipped in, mouth still full with meat.
“Alaye, forget that one... this thing na business.”

“Business?”
I laughed once.
“So this is how you people do business? Standing behind the man that wants me dead?”

The first guy shrugged.
“This odogwu no talk say im wan kill you. Im just say make we stand with am.” Then he smiled.
“And wetin im give us make sense pass your own sef.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

That was when the third one spoke — the quiet one.
“Ogbeni,” he said, almost with a venom,
“that ₦10k advance wey you struggle to give us…”
He paused and lifted his suya.
“…na times two of that money this odogwu take buy dis suya for us.”

For a second, I thought he was joking.
Then he added cheerfully,
“The aboki still add jaara sef.”

The others laughed.

“And no be only that one o,” another guy added.

“He still promise say im go give us ₦800k,” the first one said. “Cool cash.”

I blinked.
“Wow...₦800k?” I repeated.

“Yes now,” he said.
“You wey talk say na ₦200k you go give us. Stingy modafvcker.”

Another one clapped softly.
“Ogbeni, no vex,” he said.
“Na business…”

I stared at them.
So this was how my life would end?
Not by bullets.
Not because I lack strategy.
Not because I wasn’t bold enough.
But because of inflation.

Chuka watched everything quietly, like a man observing children settle a playground issue.
Then he gave out an order.

“Guys, collect his phone.”

I didn’t move as two guys with guns rounded me and seized my phone from my pocket.

I looked at Cynthia.
She just stood there, arms akimbo, her face as blank as before.

I tried to catch her eyes — at least to beg her silently — but she avoided me completely.

“Get him on his knees,” Chuka commanded again.

Behind me, hands clamped down on my shoulders and shoved me hard, forcing my knees to the ground.

Chuka walked closer until I could see his shoes clearly.
Clean. Polished.

“So what are you going to do now? Kill me in cold blood?” I vented, breathing hard.

He crouched slightly so we were almost eye to eye.
“I’m not going to kill you with my bullet. That would be too risky. The boss might find out.” He stood up straight.
“What I’m going to do is this: I’ll take you to Third Mainland Bridge, tie your hands to the steering wheel of your car, and push you over the railings. That way, nobody will trace your death back to me.”

My head dropped instantly. The words sank into me like stones thrown into deep water.
I felt my chest tighten, my breath grow shallow. My mind stopped racing — it simply froze.
There was no plan left, no trick, no leverage. Just silence inside me.

I thought of the little girl at home, her fragile body fighting for survival. I thought of the promises I had made to myself, the battles I had fought, the prison walls I had endured. Tiffany and the battle ahead. And now, all of it seemed irrelevant.

Around me, the sound of chewing continued, the smell of suya mixing with the night air.
It was almost absurd — men eating meat while my life was being measured in seconds.

And in that moment, I understood something very clearly:
I didn’t lose because Chuka was smarter.
I lost because he understood people better than I did.

Chuka didn’t waste time.
He ordered the guys to tie my hands and legs together.

As they were tying me, I tried to look at Cynthia again, hoping for anything — eye contact, a sign, mercy — but she just stood there with her arms folded, calm, like someone watching a movie she had already seen before.

I resigned myself to fate. If this was the end, then so be it.

They opened the Prado door and were about to drop me in the back seat, still tied, when someone spoke from behind Chuka’s side.

“Enough.”

That was all.
The voice wasn't loud. Not even angry. But it was enough to freeze the air.


To be continued

Episode 75 – Two Can Play The Game.

Toyosi was still driving to her Mart when a strange feeling sat in her chest.
It was heavy, uneasy, and refused to go away.

Her fingers tapped the steering wheel harder than necessary, nails clicking against the leather as traffic lights blurred past her vision.

No, it wasn’t fear.
It was irritation — the kind that tells you the day has already gone bad and anything you do next will only make it worse.

She drove for less than a minute before scoffing to herself.
“Today is already wasted.”

At the next U-turn, she swung the car hard, tyres screeching loud enough to draw angry honks from other drivers.

“Go and die at home, bitch!” someone shouted.

“Iyalaya e… omo werey!” a Danfo conductor cursed from his bus.

Toyosi didn’t care.

As the car straightened, she reached for her phone and dialed her secretary.
“I won’t be coming to the supermarket again today,” she said without preamble.
“Yes. Cancel everything. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She ended the call before the woman could ask questions and drove home in silence, mind racing ahead of her.

She got home twenty minutes later and entered the compound without her usual grace.

The guards greeted her respectfully.
The dogs bounded toward her, tails wagging wildly, expecting the usual pats on their heads and her soft words.

She ignored everyone.
Even Cynthia, who had just entered the compound minutes earlier, was shocked at how strangely she was behaving.

Toyosi walked past them like a woman carrying something volatile inside her — something that would explode if touched.

She headed straight for the cellar.

Where we are

Episode 73 – Mask Off.

Toyosi drove into the mansion like a snake returning to its natural habitat.

The gates opened wide before the Black GLE even came to a full stop. Two massive dogs paced lazily along the driveway, tails swinging, eyes sharp. They recognized her immediately. No barking to create unnecessary tension. Just quiet acknowledgment of her presence.

Their body language said it all — boss daughter is home.

She parked, stepped out, and adjusted her jacket. The guards snapped to attention.

“Good afternoon, ma.”

“Afternoon,” she replied, already walking past them.

Aristotle wasn’t around. She could feel it in the air. The house was quieter than usual — no heavy footsteps, no low voices arguing about power and profit. Just space mixed with heavy silence.

She went straight to one of the rooms upstairs, dropped her bag, and collapsed briefly on the edge of the bed.

Her head was still buzzing.
Not from fear, but from the memory of fists, nails, and rage.

Tiffany’s face twisted with the smell of her betrayal.
The sharp slap landed between them.
The moment everything turned into a physical battle.

She remembered stumbling backward, her head nearly meeting the edge of the center table.

If she hadn’t quickly spoken about the poison, Tiffany would have smashed her skull open with that heavy wooden kondo.

A fight in a living room between two women who once called each other sisters.

Toyosi exhaled slowly and laughed — not because it was funny, but because she couldn’t believe it had ended that way between them. At least not so soon.

“Tiffany,” she muttered. “Always dramatic.”

She changed out of her clothes, wiped the faint scratch on her arm, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her reflection didn’t look like a victim.
It looked like a woman who had chosen a side — and ready to pay the cost.

After a long moment, she walked out of the room and headed to the other wing of the house.

Her mother’s sitting room.
One of the big ones.
The one nobody entered unless they had news or unfinished business to discuss.

Her mother was seated exactly where Toyosi expected her — back straight, wrapper neatly tied, blouse on, glasses perched low on her nose, television on but ignored. She was in her early fifties, still beautiful. Her back assets and full‑blown breasts were the highlights of her beautiful MILF body. With her beauty, she could easily pass for Toyosi’s sister despite being her mother.

Toyosi stopped at the entrance.
“Good afternoon, ma.”

Her mother didn’t look up.
“So you’ve finally come to see me,” she said calmly. “I was beginning to think your pride would never allow you to see your own mother again.”

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Episodes 1 - 41 is available for free on my Facebook page Darousmart Library .

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I want everyone to have a fair chance to access my Telegram channel, whether you have money or not. Here’s how:

💎 Option 1: Paid Access
- Subscription fee: ₦1,000 for 10 episodes.
- You get instant access, and new episodes will drop consistently — at least one every day.
- If you join after the first 10 episodes, you’ll pay ₦1,000 for episodes 42–51, then another ₦1,000 for episodes 52 onwards.
- This way, it’s fair for everyone — both early readers and those joining later.

I’m doing this so I can keep giving you high‑quality writing, tension, humour, emotions, and the kind of storytelling you’ve been enjoying.
If you’ve truly loved this story so far… if you want to keep following Darous, Tiffany, Kalu, Kenny, and The Circle mystery… then I believe this support won’t be too much.

Payment details: Contact me on WhatsApp.

Send your payment screenshot via WhatsApp, and you’ll receive the Telegram link instantly.

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Whether you choose paid access or free support, you’ll still be part of this journey. Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for supporting my craft. Let’s continue this adventure together ❤️

Episode 72 - The Silent Diagnosis.

When we got to the estate clinic, Naomi was admitted immediately.

We sat in the clinic's waiting room, the air was heavy with silence.

Tiffany kept pacing. It was evident her mind was restless. You could see bruises on her forearm and a faint cut on her cheek from the fight with Toyosi, but none of that mattered to her now.

“Tiffany," I called her with a sharp tone. " You need to be more careful now. You seriously need to stop acting on impulse. If we are to win this battle, babe, you must keep your head clear.”

She turned on me, eyes blazing.
“What are you even saying, Darous? Do you think we would even know Naomi was poisoned if I hadn’t confronted that bitch? And now you want us to sit here and let the doctors work blindly? We should tell them what we know.”

I leaned forward, maintaining my firm tone.
“And tell them what, exactly? That we know it’s poison, but we don’t even know what type of poison it is?" I paused as she hissed. " The moment we say that, the doctor might see it as a conspiracy and may decide to involve the police. And once the police are involved, we’ll have to produce evidence against the daughter of the national security adviser. That’s like putting a bigger target on our backs.”

She shook her head, refusing to back down.
“So what then? We just sit here and watch her suffer?”



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Join My Telegram Channel for the continuations– Two Easy Options!

I want everyone to have a fair chance to access my Telegram channel, whether you have money or not. Here’s how:

💎 Option 1: Paid Access
- Subscription fee: ₦1,000 for 10 episodes.
- You get instant access, and new episodes will drop consistently — at least one every day.
- If you join after the first 10 episodes, you’ll pay ₦1,000 for episodes 42–51, then another ₦1,000 for episodes 52 onwards.
- This way, it’s fair for everyone — both early readers and those joining later.

I’m doing this so I can keep giving you high‑quality writing, tension, humour, emotions, and the kind of storytelling you’ve been enjoying.
If you’ve truly loved this story so far… if you want to keep following Darous, Tiffany, Kalu, Kenny, and The Circle mystery… then I believe this support won’t be too much.

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Whether you choose paid access or free support, you’ll still be part of this journey. Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for supporting my craft. Let’s continue this adventure together ❤️

EPISODE 71 – Five Symptoms.

Tiffany stepped forward toward where the stunned Toyosi was sitting.

Her flipflops dragged softly against the tiled floor, but in the silence, the sound felt louder than it should have.

Inside her, memories lined up against each other like soldiers on a battlefield.

Shared laughter showed up first, smiling like it was still innocent. But now it sounded fake, like a joke that had been hiding knives.

Then came the late-night talks, dragging promises and secrets. Words that once felt like loyalty now tasted like lies.

The meals followed too — plates of food she had cooked, the same food Tiffany had eaten without knowing poison was sitting at the table.

Even the money she gave showed up, waving like a gift, but now it looked like bait. A trap dressed as kindness.

Every memory lined up, not to comfort her, but to mock her. Six years of friendship, six years of trust — all of it twisting into proof that Toyosi had been the pain she was feeling all along.

Everything she once trusted about Toyosi was cracking all at once, and her body responded before her thoughts could organize themselves.

"Poison, not wine! That’s what you deserve… you bitch!” Tiffany screamed, her voice shaking with rage.

Toyosi turned her head around as the words landed again.
She straightened in her seat, eyes narrowing slightly, studying Tiffany the way a student studies a difficult question they hadn’t prepared for.

“Excuse me?” Toyosi said, blinking once.
“What did I just hear you say to me, Tiff?”

“Don’t Tiff me kankan,” Tiffany snapped.
“Omo Aristotle.”

Join the telegram channel for continuation...

Episodes 1 - 41 is available for free on my Facebook page Darousmart Library .

Join My Telegram Channel for the continuations– Two Easy Options!

I want everyone to have a fair chance to access my Telegram channel, whether you have money or not. Here’s how:

💎 Option 1: Paid Access
- Subscription fee: ₦1,000 for 10 episodes.
- You get instant access, and new episodes will drop consistently — at least one every day.
- If you join after the first 10 episodes, you’ll pay ₦1,000 for episodes 42–51, then another ₦1,000 for episodes 52 onwards.
- This way, it’s fair for everyone — both early readers and those joining later.

I’m doing this so I can keep giving you high‑quality writing, tension, humour, emotions, and the kind of storytelling you’ve been enjoying.
If you’ve truly loved this story so far… if you want to keep following Darous, Tiffany, Kalu, Kenny, and The Circle mystery… then I believe this support won’t be too much.

Payment details: Contact me on WhatsApp.

Send your payment screenshot via WhatsApp, and you’ll receive the Telegram link instantly.

🌍 Option 2: Free Access Through Support
For those who don’t have money, you can still join by supporting my work:
- Go to my Facebook page @darousmart library
- Follow the page
- Share and like at least 20 of the previous episodes
- Then message me on WhatsApp, and I’ll send you the telegram link directly.

Whether you choose paid access or free support, you’ll still be part of this journey. Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for supporting my craft. Let’s continue this adventure together ❤️

Happy new year. Up next

BONUS UPDATE FOR THE NEW YEAR. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL.

Episode 70 - Between Breaths.

It was Naomi’s sudden cry from Tiffany’s room that tore us out of sleep the next morning.

Before I continue, let me be clear — if you’re looking for the details of what happened between Tiffany and me during the night, I mean analysis of our first sexual intercourse, I'm sorry to break it to you, you won’t find them here. Go search PornHub; the video is there.

Now back to the matter. Naomi’s cry shook the whole house. I rushed to unlock the door, and we both dashed into Tiffany’s bedroom.

What we saw froze us. Naomi was on the floor, her small body sprawling, something whitish foaming out of her mouth.

The same little girl I had seen at midnight, sleeping peacefully while I searched the house for Tiffany. What could suddenly be wrong with her?

Panic hit us like a storm. My heart raced, but I forced myself to act. Still in our pyjamas, I scooped her up quickly, her body limp in my arms, and ran straight to the car.

Toyosi’s car was closest to the gate, but Tiffany screamed at me not to use it.

“Don’t put my daughter inside that devil’s car!” she shouted, her voice breaking with fear.

I didn’t care. A child’s life was at stake, and she was talking about ethics. I flung the gate open.

“Are you coming or not?” I barked at her. She had no choice. She jumped in, clutching Naomi tightly at the back seat. I slammed the door and sped off.

The road blurred before me. My palms were sweaty on the steering wheel, my mind racing faster than the car. Tiffany’s voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and desperate.

“If anything happens to my daughter because of this car, I will never forgive you!” she cried from the back seat.
“This car is owned by the devil… and you still want to risk my child’s life in it!”

“Okay then,” I shot back, my voice shaking with anger and fear. “Tell me — all the cars in the compound, which one belongs to God? Which one did God buy for us?”

“I don’t know!” she screamed. “Just know I’ll kill you if anything happens to my daughter!”

I answered her sharply: “Then pray to that God to keep her alive, because right now this car is the only chance we’ve got.”

The car kept moving, but every second felt like an hour. Naomi’s soft cries filled the air, and the weight of her small life pressed heavily on us. All I could think about was reaching the estate’s clinic, every turn of the wheel feeling like a race against time.

But as the minutes passed, Naomi grew worse. Her breathing became weaker, her lips turned blue, and foam gathered at her mouth. Her tiny body shook in Tiffany’s arms, each spasm more frightening than the one before.

From the back seat, Tiffany’s voice was raw with fear.
“Naomi, please don’t leave me! You’re all I have left. Fight, baby, fight! Don’t let the devil win. Stay with me!”

Then suddenly she cried out again, her voice sharp and trembling:
“This car is cursed! I told you not to use it. If anything happens to her, it will be because of this evil car!”

Her words stabbed at me, but I kept my eyes locked on the road. My voice came out firm, shaking with urgency:
“Tiffany, forget the car! Right now, all that matters is keeping Naomi alive. Focus on her, not the car!”

She broke down, clutching Naomi tighter, whispering into her ear:
"Don’t leave me, Naomi… your mother is gone, your father is gone. I can’t lose you too. Please fight, my baby, please fight.” Her voice shook as she spoke, then she began to read Bible verses.

The car roared forward, tyres screeching as I took each corner like it was life or death. The moment pulled me back to the night Baba T. died — I was the one driving him to the hospital then too. And now, Naomi was in a similar fight for her life. Maybe I was an ambulance driver in another life; only God knows the answer to that.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the clinic — barefoot, still in our pyjamas, looking like people dragged out of a nightmare.

The doctors and nurses rushed Naomi inside and got to work immediately. But Tiffany wouldn’t let them concentrate. She was already rolling on the floor, screaming as if Naomi had passed right there. I grabbed her, held her tight, and whispered that Naomi was still breathing, that there was still hope. Somehow, I managed to calm her enough to let the doctors do their work.

I, on the other hand, was barely holding it together. My mind kept circling back to everything that had happened — Naomi’s mother dead, her father...ah...her father....

I blame myself for ever taking Kalu’s phone home. If I hadn’t, Toyosi wouldn’t have planted that tracker, and they wouldn’t have found Kalu’s family. Naomi would still have her mother — the one person who would know exactly what was wrong with her right now.

One hour felt like ten hours. Then Dr. Wasnov came out, his handsome face full of worry. That look alone made our hearts sink. His tall body seemed weighed down, like the news he carried was too heavy.

He motioned us into his office, but before we even sat down Tiffany clung tighter to my arm and burst out:
“Doctor, what’s happening? Is she breathing? Why is she shaking like that? Please, tell me she’s going to be fine!”

Her voice cracked, her swollen eyes pleading for answers, lips trembling as if each word might shatter. Dr. Wasnov raised his hand gently, urging her to sit, but she pressed on, desperate:
“Don’t keep me waiting, please. Just say something. Anything.”

The doctor finally settled into his chair, his tone professional but grave, each word weighed down with the seriousness of the moment.

Dr. Wasnov looked at Tiffany, then at me.
“Please, calm her down,” he said softly.

I turned to Tiffany, held her hands, and spoke gently.
“Babe, listen to me. Naomi is in good hands. Let’s hear what the doctor has to say.”

She nodded, though her lips still trembled.

Dr. Wasnov adjusted his glasses and spoke in a steady, professional voice:
“We’ve taken immediate steps to stabilize her. Her vital signs are within acceptable limits, but further tests are necessary… We shall conduct comprehensive laboratory analyses and imaging studies to ascertain the underlying etiology. Once these evaluations are complete, we will provide you with a definitive update. For now, the child is clinically stable, and you may proceed to see her.”

All the medical grammar at the start flew over our heads, but that last line — “the child is clinically stable” — was all we needed. It gave us hope, like a light breaking through the storm.

Tiffany squeezed my arm, whispering, “Stable… that means she’s okay, right?”
I nodded quickly, pretending I understood every big word the doctor had said. Truth is, I only caught the “stable” part. If he had gone on for another minute, I might have asked him to translate into plain English.

We walked into the ward. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, and the soft hum of machines filled the room. Naomi lay on the bed, a small mask over her nose and mouth, connected to the oxygen tank beside her. The steady hiss of air and the blinking monitor reassured us she was breathing.

Tiffany rushed to her side, tears streaming, whispering her name over and over.

After the whole tension had died down, Dr. Wasnov advised me to bring some food and fruits for Naomi.

I went home quickly.

I quickly checked on Toyosi, who was still asleep — the pill I had slipped into her drink was strong enough to keep her down for almost fourteen hours, and even after that she would still feel weak.

I gathered some fresh fruits and a can of baby cereal puree — something soft and easy for a child to eat — then hurried back to the clinic.

When I returned, Tiffany and Naomi were already in Dr. Wasnov’s office. He was showing Tiffany the test results. His tone was calm but formal:
“Our diagnostic assays and imaging modalities have revealed no pathological abnormalities. The patient’s systemic functions are intact. You are therefore discharged with assurances of her continued well-being.”

Tiffany looked at me, relief washing over her face. It sounded strange, but the doctor’s confidence gave us peace.

We settled the bills, entered the car, and drove home together, grateful that Naomi was safe.

Some minutes to midday, we got home.
We entered the sitting room and saw Toyosi resting her head on the back of the sofa chair. She ignored us completely, which was unlike her. For a moment, I thought she had caught a hint of what happened at midnight. But when she didn’t react at all, I decided she was probably still weak from the drugs.

Tiffany stood beside me in the doorway, her chest rising and falling as if she was holding back a storm.

Toyosi hadn’t even turned her head toward us yet, but Tiffany let out a soft hiss, lifted Naomi in her arms, and walked straight to the guest room without saying a word.
I sighed, ready to slip in after her, but something in me said I should play maturity here.

“Hi Toyosi, how you doing?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.

Her tone flipped instantly.
“I warned you people I don’t want alcohol last night that I'm on medication, but your girlfriend had to unleash her bitch side and force me to drink it. Now my head is pounding like hell!”

I sighed again and walked closer. I placed my hand on her forehead, but she yanked it off.

“Don’t touch me!” she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I froze, taken aback by her sudden reaction. She hissed and turned her head toward the TV, ignoring me completely.

I stood there, weighing my next move and because of the plan I had, I swallowed my anger and said,
“On behalf of my babe… I say we—”

“If you complete that nonsense statement, I’ll bite your tongue off.”

I turned my head toward the voice. It was Tiffany, standing in the entrance of the guest room, her eyes boiling like red-hot iron.

“Why will you beg her because we gave her wine,” she spat, “when what we should be forcing down her throat right now is sniper?”

The room went silent.

To be continued.

Episode 69 - Damage Contained.

After getting all the information I needed from Toyosi’s phone, I forced myself to stay calm. Anger was boiling inside me, but this was not the time to act without sense. One wrong move and everything could scatter.

It was clear now: once Aristotle got the ledger, he had no reason to keep me or Tiffany alive. Handing it over just like that would be suicide.

The smartest thing was to wait till Thursday for Mrs Adeoye. To hear what she has in store. She must have a plan.

Still, I couldn’t put all my hope on her alone. I needed my own backup. If her plan collapsed, I would use the stuffs I got from Toyosi’s phone — the messages, the pictures, the videos of her and Chuka. With that, I could force them to protect me, Tiffany, and anyone close to us. But that would be my last card, only if everything else failed.

So I swallowed my anger, carried Toyosi into her room, and placed her phone beside her. She must not suspect anything yet. Not until I had spoken to Mrs Adeoye.

I returned to my room. Tiffany was sleeping peacefully, her face calm, untouched by the storm raging in my head. I thought about waking her, telling her everything, but I stopped myself.

It was better to wait for the right time, when I knew she could handle it. The Tiffany I knew would not take it lightly if she found out now.

I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. Although she's looking calm right now, but the moment she hears the truth, that calm will shatter. I could already imagine her pacing the room, her voice rising, her emotions spilling over.

Her reaction wouldn’t help us. Not in this fragile moment. We needed Pedri, not Casemiro. In simpler, non-football terms, we needed clear heads, not raw explosiveness.

So I let her sleep, holding the storm inside me alone.

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EPISODE 68 - Unlocked.


When Toyosi arrived back at her Mart, I played it smart. I walked in casually, pretending I was just passing by.

“Ah, Toyosi,” I said with a smile, “I was around the area and thought I should check up on you. It’s been a while since we talked properly… you know, agent to agent.”

She looked up, surprised but pleased.
“Darous, first it’s ex‑con to ex‑con. Now it’s agent to agent?” She hugged me quickly and stepped back. “Anyways, how are you holding up? Want the girls to get you anything?”

“Ha, no… not at all. I’m fine with this,” I replied lightly, lifting the can of Black Bullet I was drinking. “You know how it is.”

She chuckled. “Alright then.” She offered me a chair.

We sat, talking and joking. For a moment I almost forgot myself, carried away by the mood. But then I remembered why I was there. My eyes drifted to her wristwatch. The design was perfect — thick strap, enough space to conceal the micro recording device I wanted to implant.

I tilted the can of Black Bullet as if to take another sip, but let a little spill slip onto her blouse.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry!” I said quickly, reaching for tissues.

She frowned but laughed it off. “You and your clumsy hands. Now look at me.” She slipped off her wristwatch and headed to the restroom to wash herself.

That was my moment. While she was away, I slid the recording device neatly into the back of her watch strap.

When she returned, drying her hands, I picked up the watch.
“Here, let me help you strap it back,” I offered casually.

She hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Alright. You caused the mess, so you fix it.”

I strapped the watch back onto her wrist, smiling.
“There you go. Good as new.”

She glanced at me, amused. “You should be more careful next time. Or I'll punch your nose.”

“Noted,” I said, keeping my tone light. Inside, I knew the job was done.

I left soon after and went home to start monitoring the devices.

Tiffany wasn’t home. She had probably gone to Naomi’s school for the open day activities.
To be honest, Tiffany had really grown close to Kalu’s daughter. She cared for her like she was her own child ever since tragedy struck her parents.

Watching the way Tiffany loved and protected Naomi made me think about the future. I could already picture how she would handle our own children one day. The truth is, she would make a perfect mother.

I sat with my phone all day, monitoring every call Toyosi made. The hours passed, but nothing incriminating came up. Just normal business calls.

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. My hope was riding on her phone conversations, but what if she only used WhatsApp? Then I’d need to check her phone directly — and that was the real problem. She never left her phone unattended.

The first day passed. Then the second day too — the second out of the five. Still nothing. Time kept moving, slow but steady, and the silence was beginning to feel dangerous. The five‑day deadline was drawing closer, and I knew I couldn’t just sit and wait anymore.
It was time to take drastic steps.

Later that night of the second day, when everyone was gathered in the sitting room, I decided to use the same trick I once planned for Kenny the night he came into the house.

I went to my room. Luckily, the sleeping tablets were still there. I pounded two of them, then went to the fridge. This time, I picked Toyosi’s cup — her favorite one, the same cup she snatched from Kenny the night I tried this trick before. I poured the wine and mixed in the tablets.

I carried the glasses to the sitting room and placed them on the table. With a smile, I raised mine.
“I’m toasting to my freedom… to making it back alive from prison.”

I handed Tiffany her glass, then gave Toyosi hers. She smiled faintly, then shook her head.
“I’m on medication. I can’t take any alcohol.”

Her words hit me like a wall. The plan I thought would work so easily had just slipped away. I leaned back, already giving up inside.

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Episode 67 - Familiar Shadows.

Darous sat on the bed, annoyed and visibly upset. That card was supposed to be their golden ticket — the one thing that could finally help in the quest to bring Aristotle down.

Tiffany had told him everything her father said in the video, as much as she could remember. But now the memory card was gone.

Darous felt restless. He knew hearing it from her wasn’t enough. He needed to watch it himself, to see the way Black Mamba spoke, the pauses, the hidden meaning. Without that, he felt like he was missing half the story.

Tiffany admitted she cried through most of it. Her tears made her miss some details. She tried to explain, but she couldn't remember most things.

Darous understood. Pain makes people forget. But that only made losing the card hurt more. The truth was inside that video, and now it was gone.

Her mind raced back to the previous day. She remembered dropping the flash drive into her bag after Toyosi had comforted her when she walked in and caught her with red eyes. Toyosi had pressed her — “What’s wrong again?” — but Tiffany brushed it off. She wasn’t about to spill anything until Darous gave the green light.

Toyosi even asked if it was about Darous. Tiffany had laughed it off, denied it.

Tiffany muttered to herself,
“No, it couldn’t have been at the supermarket. Maybe the salon where I took Naomi for her hair… but I didn’t even take my bag out of the car."

Tiffany leaned her head against the wall, her mind racing. She was probably replaying everything in her head — wondering what could have happened to the memory card she had watched at the supermarket just a day ago.

“What’s all this?” she muttered aloud.

Darous stood up and hugged her tightly.
“Calm down. Just think it through. You must have misplaced it somewhere.”

She shook her head.
“You don’t understand. I don’t even use memory cards. I save my stuffs on the cloud.”

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Episode 66 - Comfort On Wheels.

I left the mansion that night in the Prado jeep. Beside me sat the twenty million naira. Money enough to rewrite my story.

It was strange though. Everything I had ever wanted — plenty money and a big car — was right there with me, but I still wasn’t happy. It felt like I was wearing a shiny crown while the house around me was burning.

Aristotle knew how to keep me trapped. He gave me money, knowing I might run away and never work for him again. Then he used blackmail to tie me down. That wicked man.

I groaned in anger and kept driving into the dark night.

The silver Toyota Land Cruiser Prado VX‑L glided over the road like a ship on calm waters. The leather seats hugged me, the engine purred with quiet authority, and for a moment I understood why people call it “comfort on wheels.”

It was the same jeep Chuka had used to pick me up from prison. Now it was in my hands. Aristotle had said “for now,” but something inside me whispered that if I brought him the ledger, the car might become mine completely.

The real problem is this: why the ledger? What’s inside it that makes this devil ready to set the whole country on fire?

And then there’s the second problem — how do I even start convincing Tiffany to hand it over? That girl is stubborn like harmattan.
Aristotle thinks I can just stroll in, smile, and collect it from her just like that? In five days?

On the highway, I met policemen doing stop‑and‑search.

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Up next

EPISODE 65 – Five Days.

One hour later,
I was seated calmly in the sitting room.

Still alive, by the way.
Which, considering the events of the night, already felt like a miracle — one I hadn’t yet decided was a blessing or a curse.
Aristotle and Chuka had gone upstairs earlier, leaving me behind with three guards… and Cynthia.

I sipped my wine slowly, like a man who had nothing left to prove — or lose.

At this point, I wasn’t even drinking to relax.
I think I was just trying to confirm that my body was still functioning normally.

My overgrown beard and moustache itched badly, and I couldn’t stop scratching them at intervals.
If wine could erase memories, I would have drowned the entire bottle.

The sitting room was quiet except for the faint music drifting down from upstairs.

I looked straight at Cynthia. Our eyes met, but as always, she quickly turned away. Something was off. I could feel it deep inside, though I couldn’t quite place my finger on what it was.

“Cynthia, let’s talk,” I called out.
She hesitated before walking over.

“Sit na,” I added.

She sat — reluctantly.

“Why you dey form for me like this?” I asked. “Wetin dey happen? What’s really going on with you?”

“I’m fine, Darous,” she replied sharply.

“Are you sure?” I pressed. “Because the way you’ve been acting lately… it’s like something is eating you up.”

“Nothing is wrong,” she said, her tone hardening. “Let’s just keep our relationship on a professional level.”

I sighed.

“It's not as if I'm saying we should start hanging out or anything,” I said. “But let’s not pretend like we don’t have a history. We can’t just erase our five years of friendship because of what happened between us.”

“See,” she replied coldly. “Let’s not give ourselves unnecessary problems.”

“Problems?” I scoffed. “In this place? This is the headquarters of problems...whether we like it or not, problems will still come and meet us wherever we sit. So why not relax and kuku enjoy life small?”

She looked at me briefly.
“I hear you,” she said. “Is that all?”

“No,” I said. “Did you hear from Jude?”

She paused.
“Jude is fine,” she finally said. “He’s moved on with his life since we broke up.”

“So you guys haven’t talked since then?”

She opened her mouth to respond—
But before she could, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed.

Footsteps followed.

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EPISODE 64 – The Circle.

Tiffany rose from the chair in one swift movement.
She stared through the clear glass barricade that separated the counter from the shopping area. Life was still moving like nothing had happened at all.

Customers pushed trolleys down the aisles, comparing prices, picking what they wanted and dropping it in without a second thought.
Store attendants laughed and chatted with them.

At one corner of the supermarket, a content creator laughed with his girlfriend as his camera crew filmed them—completely unaware of the storm breaking elsewhere.

The world was running normal.
And yet, Tiffany's had just cracked open.

She stood there for a while, breathing slowly, letting the noise of the supermarket ground her. It took her a few minutes to steady her thoughts — to convince herself she wasn’t about to faint or scream or draw attention to herself.

Then she turned back to the laptop.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her Bluetooth headphones. She connected them to the laptop, slid them over her ears, and sat down again.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.
She pressed Play.

The man on the screen adjusted himself slightly, as if he knew time was not on his side.

“Darous… the fact that you’re watching this means I’m either dead — or in some unlikely scenario, you found this memory card by accident.”

Tiffany’s breath caught.
That voice.
She knew that voice.
She knew the face. It seemed like ages ago but it had only been six years.

“My name is not Black Mamba,” the man continued calmly. “That name was something I created after prison stripped me of my old life. My real name is Augustine Akpabio.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her suspicions were finally confirmed.

“You were sent here to kill me,” he said. “And from the very first day I heard about you, I knew you were different. You had something rare. A gift. A gift that handles pressure quite well.”

Tiffany shook her head slowly. No… no… this isn’t happening.

“I think by now, you should have known that you being in my daughter’s life was not by chance,” Augustine continued. “It was a carefully calculated move by Ayodele. He needed you close to her for one reason only — to retrieve the ledger.”

Tiffany’s hands went cold.

“This ledger,” he said. “I gave it to my daughter. That ledger contains the only information capable of collapsing the power structure of The Circle.”

Her stomach twisted.

“Before I go further, you first need to understand what The Circle truly is.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“The Circle began in the 1970s. Nigeria was bleeding from armed robberies — men like Anini, Shina Rambo, Oyenusi. Criminals with minds sharper than the systems that was meant to stop them.”

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Whether you choose paid access or free support, you’ll still be part of this journey. Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for supporting my craft. Let’s continue this adventure together ❤️

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