₦airaland Forum

Continuation of episode 29th.





Detective Kalu had barely finished tightening his seatbelt at the filling station when that small voice in his head started again — that annoying, persistent one that never shuts up.

He exhaled long and slow. Every time that voice spoke, something always happened in the next chapter. But he’d learned to obey it. Instinct had saved him more times than his bulletproof vest ever could.

He turned the key, and the car purred like a well-fed cat. He drove out like he was leaving, then quickly made a U-turn and parked his car beside the road — just far enough to see Darous without being seen.

Ahead, Darous was already disappearing into the Mushin morning hustle. The boy walked like a man late for something deeper than a meeting. Kalu knew that walk — the walk of someone torn between love and loyalty.

“I'll get back to you by noon,” Darous had said earlier.

By noon? That statement alone smelled of conspiracy. How could a boy who claimed to love his girlfriend so deeply risk her safety with such strange timing? Something wasn’t right. Kalu could feel it, though he couldn’t yet tell what it was.

He watched as Darous clutched his phone to his ear, pacing very fast as if in a hurry to meet a target.

Kalu smirked. “Let’s see where your loyalty will lead you today, my boy.”

Darous stood by the roadside for several minutes, still on the call, eyes darting at every car that passed, like a man waiting for judgment day to arrive on four wheels.

Then, he saw it.

A black Pathfinder Jeep with tinted windows.

It rolled up beside Darous — quiet, confident, and expensive enough to make any ordinary person cross the road to take a peek at it.

Darous didn’t even blink. He slipped his phone into his pocket, opened the door, and entered.

Kalu’s hand tightened around the steering wheel. “Ah. That car again.”

That same Pathfinder from that night — the night he had rescued Kenny from Cobra and Saipon after they had gone after Cynthia. The Limping Man had come in that same Jeep, taking the girl away into the dark.

“Bingo,” Kalu muttered, pulling his cap low.

He started his car quietly and followed, keeping a good distance. No siren. No drama. Just shadowing them through the traffic like a cat following the smell of fish from a dark room corner. Every time the Jeep slowed, he slowed. When it turned, he turned.

Forty-five minutes later, they veered off the expressway into a lonely part of Festac. The kind of area that looked rich enough to buy silence. The road was tarred but lifeless — brown leaves scattered across the sides, like no one had swept there in months.

The Jeep began to slow down again.

That was Kalu’s cue.

If he continued following directly, he’d be noticed. So, he quickly pulled off the road, parking his Camry behind an old abandoned shed covered by thick bush. From there, he stepped out, locked the door quietly, and began following on foot.

The Jeep’s tire marks were still visible on the dusty road. He followed the trail for about five minutes, until the path curved sharply and ended right in front of a tall iron sliding gate.

And then he saw it.

The mansion.

It stood like a secret trying to hide in plain sight — massive black sliding gate, electric fence humming faintly on top, and a row of flowers leading to the driveway like decoration for a gala night. The air itself smelled expensive.

He crouched behind a tall mahogany tree near the gate, careful to stay out of view of the two cameras mounted on the fence pillars.

From that distance, he could see just enough to know — this wasn’t an ordinary house.

He exhaled quietly, his eyes scanning everything — the cameras, the flowerbeds, the shadows under the fence. He thought about calling for back up and going in. But he quickly wade off the thought.

On what grounds would he call for backup or even breach a house like this? There was no visible crime happening that he could report.

But his heart wasn’t listening to logic at that moment.

His wife’s face flashed through his mind. The ultrasound picture of her new pregnancy after years of trying. The baby they had been waiting for after Naomi. He had promised her that this child would be born into a safer world — a world without the Circle.

He clenched his jaw.
He couldn’t risk bringing another child into a world where these demons still breathed free.

So, rules or not, warrant or not — he was going in.

He brought out his phone and began taking pictures — the mansion, the gate, the cameras, the faint tracks of the Jeep that had entered minutes ago. Each picture was a silent statement of war.

Then the spiritual coordinators of the match between him and The Circle decided to bring in a substitute. Name of the player — Luck.
And for once, Kalu was glad to have him on his team.

He had been hiding behind that tree for about seven minutes when he heard it — the sound of another engine, deep and smooth, approaching slowly.

He peeked.

A black G-Wagon with tinted glass. A woman with dark shades on was behind the wheel.

Kalu’s instincts woke up fully. “Now or never,” he muttered.

He crouched low as the G-Wagon rolled up to the gate. The metal gate began to slide open with that rich, quiet authority.

The moment it opened halfway, Kalu dashed forward — swift, low, and silent. He slipped in behind the G-Wagon’s rear bumper, just before the gate closed again.

He moved quickly, ducking behind a large Mikano generator close to the fence. The soft hum of the generator masked his movement. He crouched there, breathing shallowly.

From that spot, he had a clear view of the compound.

Eight cars. All luxury brands. Their polished bodies glinted under the late morning sun.

He could count at least four men standing guard, all dressed in black suits, clean shades, and faces that screamed — “we kill anything that moves.”

The G-Wagon stopped in-between the other cars. Two guards hurried to open the door.

The woman stepped out — elegant, early fifties, the kind of woman whose perfume could buy at least ten Jacksons for chelsea. The guards bowed slightly and escorted her toward the mansion’s main entrance, leaving two men in the compound.

Kalu pulled out his phone again and snapped quick photos. The compound, the woman, the cars, the guards — everything. The CCTV cameras were everywhere, but he knew how to avoid them. Years of detective training and experience had taught him where blind spots hide.

He needed to get inside. He had to find something—anything—that could lead him closer. Opportunities like this don’t come twice when you’re hunting monsters like the Circle.

He waited for the right moment.

The two remaining guards were distracted, both staring into their phones, laughing at something on TikTok.

That was his opening.

Kalu slipped out from behind the generator and crept along the wall, keeping his movements steady and low.

Then he saw it — a small maintenance door at the far corner of the house, half-covered by creeping vines. Looked old, maybe forgotten.

He checked again. The guards were still laughing.

He dashed forward, slipped through the door, and found himself inside.

The air inside the mansion was cold. Marble floors stretched endlessly. Chandeliers glittered above him. Gold picture frames lined the wall, holding portraits of people whose faces had been deliberately blurred — or painted over.

He walked carefully, footsteps light as air.

From a distance came faint sounds — laughter, voices, footsteps echoing from somewhere upstairs. The kind of quiet noise that reminded you how rich people sound when they’re doing something hideous.

He turned into a bright corridor — and froze.

Sounds of heavy footsteps. Two men. Approaching fast.

He looked around quickly and ducked behind a tall decorative vase beside a glass partition — barely enough room to hide a rat, but it would do.

The two men walked past. One had a pistol tucked under his arm. The other held a glass of wine, talking and laughing as if he owned the place.

Kalu held his breath. Sweat trickled down his face.

Then — pim-pim!

His phone lit up. MTN message. “You have 2690.57MB of Data left. To access your data when you exhaust it, dial *312*1# or click on http://engage2 to buy a new plan.”

"Damn it..."

His heart stopped.

“God punish this network people,” he whispered.

The men froze mid-step.

“What was that?” one of them said.

Kalu’s hand slammed on the phone, killing the light. But the damage was done. The men turned around slowly, their eyes scanning the hallway.

Kalu’s pulse thumped so loud he could hear it in his ears. He reached into his pocket—empty. Then it hit him: his gun was still in the car.

“What kind of village mistake is this?” he muttered.

The two men came closer. Ten steps. Five. Two.

They turned the corner — and saw him.

For one heartbeat, everyone froze.

Then Kalu moved first.

He lunged forward, grabbed the unarmed man, and slammed him hard into the wall. The man’s wine glass shattered, red liquid splashing across the marble like blood.

The second man raised his pistol — too slow.

Kalu twisted the first man’s arm, dragging him in front as a shield. The gun fired — POW! The bullet tore into the man’s back.

Kalu rammed his elbow into the shooter’s jaw, then dropped low and swung his leg, tripping him hard. The man hit the floor. Kalu snatched a heavy metal flower vase from a nearby stand and smashed it across the man’s face.

The gunman went down like a sack of cement.

The unarmed one tried to crawl away, groaning, but Kalu kicked him sharply in the ribs.

Then, silence.

Kalu stood there, chest rising and falling like a man who’d just wrestled death and won. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked down at the two unconscious bodies.

“Next time,” he whispered under his breath, “don’t mix wine with stupidity.”




To be continued.

EPISODE 29 - Game Of Sex-vival


Cynthia parted her p*ussy lips with two fingers and guided my raging boner straight into her warm and already dripping pu*ssy like a soldier stepping into the battleground.

Oh my God… you’re big...” she said, wearing that spaced-out smile you only see on people who just took their first drag of Colorado and finally understood why it’s banned.

For one scary second, I thought that warmness around my d*ick alone would finish me. My blood was rushing inside my body like it had lost direction. My heart was beating so fast I could almost hear it. I honestly thought I’d spill right there and say goodbye to my life, but somehow, I managed to hold on.

Then she started moving—slow at first, like she was testing me. Each rise and drop was a careful one. Teasing but deadly. But soon she picked up speed, finding a rhythm around my d*ck that could break even the strongest man’s self-control.

Her face looked calm, but her eyes were screaming trouble. Her ponytail swung behind her with every move, and her breasts bounced freely like they were cheering her on. Even time itself seemed to pause just to watch the ero*tic scene

The ropes dug into my wrists and ankles, and the cold air licked every part of me I could no longer control. This wasn’t romance; this was war disguised as pleasure.

"Oh my...! This d*ick is fvcking huge...it's shifting my womb!" She said, breathing very hard as her p*ussy walls tightened around my c*ock. I could feel her juices dripping down the veins of my konji straight onto my crotch. To be honest, this girl is good. She can ride evil spirit out of a possessed body.

Across the room, Aristotle and the albino twins were already in their own heaven — moans, grunts, and laughter mixing like some sick background music to my impending execution. The man was slamming hard against the soft buttocks of one of the albino girls while I was busy fighting for my life beneath a woman who looked like she’d been trained by Satan himself.

Cynthia continued her… movements — fast and steady, like she was testing her target.

My brain tried to focus, but my body was already betraying me. The tension climbed fast. She knew exactly what she was doing. Every motion was a calculated attack, every stare was a silent warning that says: I have to make you lose.

I clenched my jaw and tried to think of anything—today’s gas price, my past relationship heartbreaks, that El Clásico where Barcelona lost by a slim margin, even how Vinicius Junior somehow looks like Akpororo—but none of it worked.

My survival depended on not “c*mming before Aristotle” but Cynthia was hellbent on making sure I concede an early goal with each bounce she makes on my c*ock.

“CK, how long now?” Aristotle’s voice cut through the room but he didn't stop ramming his boner into the girl's pu*ssy from behind.

“Seven minutes, sir,” Chuka replied, phone in hand like a wicked referee.

“Let’s see if the boy can make it to halftime,” Aristotle chuckled.

.I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. My muscles trembled like a condemned man saying his last prayer. I wasn’t sure what hurt more—the ropes cutting into my skin, or the fact that I was losing control inch by inch, my chances of survival slipping away with every move Cynthia made.

Then I decided to think of something else—anything that could take my mind off what Cynthia was doing to my co*ck. My thoughts drifted to Jude. How would he feel if I survived this and he later found out I had slept with his girl? Girlfriend or ex, it still had the same pattern of betrayal.
What about Tiffany—my real girlfriend—still locked up in that dirty cell with that sneaky detective watching her like a hawk, ready to send her case to court once it's noon? How would she feel if, somehow, she found out that while she was suffering on that cold floor because of me, I was here… having sex?
If there’s a Hall of Fame for bad boyfriends, I just secured a front-row seat.

I stayed locked in that thought for a few minutes, my mind completely blocking off what was happening to my body. And strangely, it worked—because a few moments later, it happened.

Aristotle let out a deep grunt that could wake the dead, pouring out a large amount of semen on the wiggling buttocks of the albino twins, then collapsing over them like a king who had just conquered a village. He turned to me with that evil smirk of his, waiting to see if I had already failed.

But no—I was still holding on. I had won the game. My life still belonged to me. I didn’t care what happened to Cynthia after this, because like she said earlier, “nothing personal, it’s just a game.” I smiled as that line echoed in my head.

Cynthia caught my smile and threw one back, but I saw through it. There was pain sitting right behind that smile, quiet but loud enough for me to feel it. Deep down, I think she already knew — this might just be her last action on earth.

“If this is my last sex in life,” she whispered, “I might as well enjoy it to the fullest.”

Then she leaned forward, pressing her chest against mine as her lips found mine again — slow at first, then deeper, hungrier. My body responded on its own, like it had a mind of its own. The air between us grew hotter than the AC could handle. Her hips moved in steady, maddening circles around my c*ock and before long, I felt that familiar tension building in my legs — the kind that warns you winter is coming. In simpler un-game-of-thronic terms, I could feel my sperm approaching very fast.

It felt like every muscle in my body reached its breaking point. Cynthia’s movements slowed, her eyes locked on mine—like she knew the storm that was about to hit. My breath stopped for that moment. The room faded, the noise of the twins and Aristotle disappeared, and for a moment, it was just the two of us—fire and passion wrapped in one emotional blanket.

Then everything inside me gave way. A heavy, shuddering release of sperm that left me drained, weak, and shaking beneath her. Cynthia’s body trembled too as my hot sperms flooded her womb. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as she collapsed onto my chest.

For a brief second, we just stayed there—breathing, but knowing something had changed forever between us.

“More than ten minutes,” Cynthia said softly as a tear rolled down her eyes.

Aristotle stood up, wiping his sweat, a cruel grin stretching across his masked face. “Not bad,” he said. “You lasted longer than I expected. Its a pity one of you needs to go... ”

Before I could catch my breath at that declaration, the door slammed open — BAM! — followed by a gunshot that shattered the whole room into panic.

“We’re under attack!” one of the guards yelled.

dawno2008:
Die nau🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

we pray for long life and prosperity for our dear Cynthia 😂😂😂

Ohibenemma:
Yeye dey smell... So The Cycle is led by a lunatic?

😂😂😂😂😂😂 the thing shock me oooo😂😂😂😂

dawno2008:
Just free Nairaland bot, and this Darous guy no get delay gel🤔 but I can't place something,if Darous delayed his cuming,then Cynthia does abi?

does what oooo😂😂😂😂

Finally found a way around it. Censored most of the words. Thanks for waiting

Ohibenemma:
An amoral fella, this Aristotle. I can't wait for when he gets his comeuppance.

hmmmm. Deeep

ghettochild:
The gods sef like to get better view oooo

who no like better thing? 😂

Abdulreheem:
The gods are enjoying the blues film and can’t think straight at that moment.
Indeed the gods are confused right now u have to use ur head darus

😂😂😂😂

dawno2008:
Mogbe ooooo🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

god of thunder ⚡ dey watch porn🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😔😔

that man Useless

Damilgodwin:
Mouth gig for the massive rod


Rod of king Aristotle 😁😁😁


Darous and kasala na 5&6 aje 😁

ahswear my bro 😂😂😂

dawno2008:
Baba TBM the true son of porn watching god of thunder ⚡🤣🤣🤣🤣how far nau, Manchester United don make me happy 🍺💯and liverlesspool don put cream on ma cake🍺e remain you to serve me breakfast 💯🔥eba and ogbono soup🤣🤣wetin dey sup nau,abi you dey wait till after el classico ni?🤔🤔abeg I nor wan hear story after over hyped barca collect wotowoto ooo😂😂😂😂 good morning,pls drop some updates nau🤗🤗🤗

your mind don rest na... As dem wipe us

Adigun Idowu is the Facebook handle

Nairaland have started again o. I've posted the remaining parts but they have banned it again o.

dawno2008:
Baba TBM the true son of porn watching god of thunder ⚡🤣🤣🤣🤣how far nau, Manchester United don make me happy 🍺💯and liverlesspool don put cream on ma cake🍺e remain you to serve me breakfast 💯🔥eba and ogbono soup🤣🤣wetin dey sup nau,abi you dey wait till after el classico ni?🤔🤔abeg I nor wan hear story after over hyped barca collect wotowoto ooo😂😂😂😂 good morning,pls drop some updates nau🤗🤗🤗

😂😂😂😂😂 update don ready. Make we drop am today jare. This past weeks eh. He gets as he be.

Femziecarlos:
[/quote]thank you boss. I appreciate. Nice[quote author=Femziecarlos post=137262477]While I was in a mandatory specialized training today, I had an upset in my stomach, I stood up to talk a walk then saw a colleague of mine on Nairaland. Instantly I approached him and asked was NL still in existing? He looked at me like "did it stopped working before"
I went back to my seat and picked up my tab, went straight to the website. Didn't even remembered my password, I had to reset it via my mail. After i successfully logged on, i clicked on "likes and share" guess what I saw first "Darousmart" post. Immediately memories of "COUNTLESS" & "THE DOG ATTENDANT" flooded me back. After like 4 years away we're both back
Can't wait to read this wonderful piece again...

Welcome back Darous

Thank you boss man. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

EPISODE 28 – The Mask Man

The ride was very long.
Every bump on the road hit my body like the car had a personal beef with me. The smell of weed floated in from the driver’s side, mixed with body spray that had obviously lost its battle hours ago. Nobody said a word all through the journey. The silence was thick, heavy — the kind that tells you you’re not in control anymore.

After a while, one of them stretched his hand and snatched my phone. No words at all and no warning. He just took it like a father taking his child's toy from him.

Minutes turned to what felt like hours before the car finally slowed to a stop.

The back door opened.
A strong, rough hand grabbed my arm.
“Out,” a voice ordered — deep and commanding, like a man that doesn't like repeating himself.

I stepped out slowly, the hood still covering my head.
The air that hit my face was clean, cool and expensive. The kind of air that tells you this place is not for poor people.

I took a few steps and noticed the ground change — from gravel to smooth tiles. That was when someone yanked the hood off my head.

Light slammed into my eyes. I blinked hard, trying to adjust to my new environment.

When my vision cleared, I froze.

I was standing in a living room that looked like it was built by angels on salary.
The floor was white marble, so clean it could reflect your sins.
The chandelier above looked like something imported from heaven’s boutique.
The air carried a soft scent of sandalwood mixed with an expensive perfume I couldn’t name, but my soul knew it was costly.

On one side, giant glass windows stretched all the way to the POP ceiling, opening into a private garden where birds probably had visas to sing.
A grand black piano stood proudly in a corner beside a cream sofa that looked like it had never seen a poor person before.
And hanging on the walls was not framed calendar art or cheap prints — but real paintings. The kind you only see when billionaires want to brag quietly.

Then I saw it, right there in the middle of the thick rug, sitting lonely on a glass table was a silver mask.

“Darous.”

The voice came from behind. I turned fast.

It was Chuka.
Same face, same sly smile, same wicked calm that never let you read him.
He wore a dark blue polo, sleeves rolled, looking like a man that knew he had power and didn’t need to input any password before using it.

“Hope your journey was smooth?” he asked casually, walking towards me.
I just nodded, still scanning the room, still wondering if I was supposed to sit, run, or pray for my dear life.

“Follow me,” he said, and climbed the stairs.

I followed. The whole house smelled of quiet money. The kind of quiet that had rules attached to it.

At the top of the stairs, the corridor opened into another sitting room — this one is smaller but more personal.
And right there, sitting like a king in his own kingdom, was a man in a silver mask.

He was in his early sixties, maybe more. Neat grey hair on his head and chest. Skin dark and leathery, like it had survived too many suns.
He was bare-chested, wearing only white shorts, and in his hand — a thick joint of weed burning slow with arrogance.

He took a long drag, held it in for a moment, then released the smoke with the calmness of a man who owned both the house and the fear in it.

The air around him carried power. I mean not the loud type of power, but the quiet kind that doesn’t need to shout to command respect.

Two identical albino ladies stepped out of a room near the dining area — like mirrors given life. They were both naked. Their skin was soft gold under the light, the kind that glowed rather than shone. Same height, same face, same everything. The kind of beauty that made you forget the word flaw existed.

Even their walk matched. It was calm, slow and confident. Their eyes were bright, almost glassy, like two suns trapped in pale oceans. And when they smiled, it wasn’t just pretty, oh my, it was dangerous.

Their breasts jiggled softly as they moved toward the grey-haired man sitting like a king on the sofa, smoke curling around him like a crown. I watched, with thousand questions running through my mind, as the twins sat — one on his right, one on his left — like loyal ornaments.

Without a word, the man reached and cupped the breast of the one beside him, squeezing lazily as he exhaled another line of smoke into the air. The room didn’t even flinch — like this was routine, tradition even.

Chuka stopped in front of him and gave a respectful nod.
“This is Darous, sir,” he said, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder before bowing slightly.

The man’s face rose to me through the thin fog of smoke — calm, slow, and heavy like he already knew my name before it was said.

“Darous,” Chuka continued, “meet the boss. Just call him… Aristotle.”

Aristotle didn’t speak immediately. He just studied me, smoke rolling from his lips, one hand still resting lazily on the woman’s chest — like power that had no reason to be in a hurry.

Press mine too…” the other lady said, her voice soaked in fake jealousy. She grabbed his grey, veiny hand and placed it right on her own breast.

Aristotle turned his masked face slowly towards her, like a bored king humoring his subjects. Then he started pressing slowly. The lady moaned softly, biting her lip as if the world had suddenly gone quiet for her alone.

I just stood there, confused and uncomfortable, watching the scene play out like I’d mistakenly walked into a movie without buying ticket.

Then Aristotle stopped. He turned his masked face towards me. Through that silver mask, his voice came out calm but heavy.

“You see in this life,” he began, then placed both hands on the breasts of the two ladies. each hand on each of their breasts, “two things never hide. The truth, and a man’s desire. Touch a woman’s breast, and you’ll know how honest her breath can be.”

He leaned back and removed his hands from their breasts. He exhaled smoke. “Same way I can tell when someone is lying to me.”
He paused. His eyes—or whatever hid behind that mask—rested on me.

“What time did you get to the garage where my boys picked you up?”

“Eight a.m. sharp, boss…” I replied, trying to sound calm, though my stomach was already doing backflips.

Aristotle didn’t say a word. He just lifted one finger, like a small signal.

Before I could even blink, gbam! Chuka’s left boot connected with my side, sending me straight to the floor. I crashed hard, air rushing out of my lungs, but thankfully my head landed on the rug and not the marble.

Pain shot through my ribs like fire and the first thing that came to mind at that period was 'Darous, you don enter this one...'

I winced in pain and let out a low groan. From the floor, I watched as the albino lady sitting on his left pulled down his shorts and his surprisingly massive dick sprung out. He grabbed her neck quickly and lowered her face onto his dick. She opened her mouth and begin to suck on it with great enthusiasm. Using both hands and mouth with a grin while the other lady just smiled along.

Aristotle groaned and leaned back on the sofa, still looking straight at me through that creepy mask.

“Lying to me will cost you your life, boy. I’ve been in this game before your mama even knew what love was,” he said. His tone came out with no emotion. Just plain with a deadly confidence.

I tried to balance myself, stood up slowly and put my hands behind like I was in a police parade. My chest was still rising fast, but I didn't want to show how scared I am.

I know one thing for sure, If not for the fear of bullets, I’d have sorted Chuka out one on one. I trust my little fighting skills to that extent. But they have guns and guns don’t come with second chances. One wrongly calculated move and I might be lying dead on the floor. So I swallowed the hot anger boiling inside me and kept my hands where they could be seen.
Live to fight another day — that’s the plan, whether it hurts or not.

But on the other hand, I quickly sent a message to the god of thunder in my head. An urgent request for help.

But the reply I got nearly made me faint. The almighty god of thunder said I should step aside because I'm blocking his view as he was currently enjoying the Mouth Gig the lady was giving Aristotle.

Imagine that — my own father turned to a blue-film spectator when you need him most. Even gods these days have lost focus.



Remaining parts dropping later.

Drop comments and likes oooo

Damilgodwin:
Omo what a twisted situation 😁😁


Coming from my own standpoint, I felt and knew that if someone is so eager to achieve a purpose ehn, the person might lose more than the purpose itself.


This kalu might lose is family due to this obsession 😳

Spoken like someone who have seen more from this life... Next episode is a banga. I'm telling you guys. Stay tuned

This episode is dedicated to my brother. Idowu Joshua on the occasion of his birthday. Happy birthday little bro.. WA pe laye bii ti Methuselah. More grace insha'Allah


EPISODE 27 — THE BLACK PATHFINDER.

When I opened the door, I froze.

Toyosi stood there — wearing the exact same clothes I saw in my dream. That same thin sleeveless top, that same quiet smirk that had just haunted me minutes ago. For a second, I just stared. My mind couldn’t process it. Was this some kind of warning? A sign of what would happen if I dared to eat from Toyosi’s restaurant?

My chest thumped so hard it almost hurt.

She frowned slightly.
“I heard you scream just now… hope all is well?”

Her voice snapped me out of it.
I blinked fast, forcing a weak smile to cover up the fear crawling through my body.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

She tilted her head, studying my face.
“You sure? You look like you saw a ghost.”

I forced a small laugh. “Maybe I did,” I said. “But I’m fine now, no need to worry about me jare.”

She tried to move closer, but I blocked the door slightly with my arm.

“It’s still midnight, Toyosi,” I said softly. “You should go get some sleep.”

She raised a brow. “Midnight ke? It’s already dawn, Mr. Joseph the dreamer. You’re acting strange, you know that?”

“I just need some rest,” I muttered, avoiding her eyes. “Got somewhere to be early in the morning.”

“Where?” she asked quickly.

I hesitated, then said, “Just going to check a client’s project at Isolo. Nothing serious.”

She looked at me for a moment like she wanted to say more, but she just sighed.
“Fine. Be safe, okay?”

I nodded. “Goodnight, Toyosi.”

She lingered a bit longer, eyes still on me, then turned and walked away.

I shut the door quietly, leaned on it, and exhaled shakily.
That dream felt too real. Too damn real.
And now she had shown up — same clothes, same knock, same everything.
What are the odds?

All my efforts to fall back asleep failed. My mind just refused to rest.
I sat up and rubbed my face. The day hadn’t even started, yet it already smelled like trouble from a distance — the kind that doesn’t miss its target.
It felt like being stuck with Onana as my goalkeeper in a Champions League penalty shootout — pure tension and zero confidence.

Tiffany was still in that cell because of something that started from me.
And Detective Kalu… that man wasn’t backing down.
But one thing’s sure — I can’t let him win.

No, I can’t.

You might say the Circle is dangerous — deadly even. And maybe this Kalu guy wants to bring them down because of some personal vendetta. Maybe they wronged him before, I don’t know. Still, I don’t care.

My case is just like election season in Nigeria — no matter how useless a candidate is, some people will still fight, lie, and even die for that person. Not because they believe in him, but because that’s where their daily bread comes from. They don’t care if the whole country burns tomorrow, as long as their own pocket and safety are secured today.

That’s exactly how it is with the Circle.
Yes, they’re dangerous. Wicked even. But they gave me something I never had — money and protection. The kind that changes how people look at you.

Take that day Kenny and I went to Agama’s place for example.
All I did was mention one name — “CK Mania.”
Just that name. And suddenly, everybody forgot how to breathe. Agama’s boys froze, mouths shut, eyes wide. Right there, they cleared Kenny’s debt — over half a million naira, just like that. Half a million, gone in one breath.
Even the precious blood of Jesus doesn’t wash away sins that fast — at least there’s baptism, repentance, and some confessions involved. That’s forgiveness in 3G. But Agama’s forgiveness? That one came in 6G speed with the name of CK mania.

Now tell me — if you had one name that could open doors anywhere, won’t you use it till even the owner of the name tells you to stop? He might even take you to court for overusing it sef.

And now this same Detective Kalu wants me to betray that same organization — the same people who, in their own dark and twisted way, changed my life.

I’ve only done two missions for them.
First was spying on a government vault.
Second was sneaking into Kalu’s own case file about that incident at Mrs. Adeoye’s event.
Just two small missions — and they paid me over five million naira already. Five million. Clean. Straight like 6 o’clock. No stress, no wahala like coaching Manchester United post Alex Ferguson era.

So even if I wanted to help Kalu take them down, I can’t. Not just because of the money, but because of the rule — never talk to the police.
And now look at me, already breaking that rule.
Isn’t this how Adam ate the apple?

I couldn’t just sit still. Tiffany was in danger, and I had to move. First I need to find out my mission and then handle my girlfriend's issue with Detective Kalu.

So I bathed quickly, dressed up, and stepped out.

Chuka had told me a black Pathfinder would pick me up at Mushin Garage.
I didn’t take any of the GLE cars — because I don’t know what kind of mission was waiting for me, and I don’t want anything traced back to me.

Toyosi was still asleep when I left. I only dropped her a short message: “Going to Isolo for that client’s work.”

The estate was quiet when I stepped into the road.
No bikes, no sound. They don’t even allow commercial bike riders inside, so I had to walk almost twenty minutes before reaching the main junction.

As I walked, an idea suddenly hit me — like it came from the god of thunder himself. I brought out my phone and called Detective Kalu.

He picked on the first ring, like he’d been waiting for me.

“I need to see you,” I said. “Somewhere private and quiet this morning.”

“I’m already on the road to work,” he said. “Meet me at the filling station beside Mushin Garage in ten minutes. We can talk there.”

“But that’s not really a private place,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “Nobody ever pays attention to people at a filling station.” Then he ended the call.

****

When I got to the filling station, his Toyota Camry arrived almost immediately. He wasn’t wearing uniform — just black jeans, a dark shirt, and those black shades that hide the eyes. He didn’t greet me or smile, just gave me a short nod and pointed at a wooden bench near the kerosene pump, away from the main road.

I sat down. My leg was shaking, but I forced it to stay still.

“You look tired,” he said.

“Glad you noticed....” I fired back. “My girlfriend is in a cell, and the man who put her there is sitting right in front of me.”

He smirked and pulled a file from his folder.
“Darous, this shouldn’t be a problem for you. Play your part and your girl will be home like nothing happened. Like I told you at your friend's burial — I’m not after you. I’m after the people who own you.”

“Then let my girlfriend go now… she has nothing to do with all this madness.”

"It's not that simple this man..." He said and then waved the file slightly.
“I’m already preparing her case. You know how many years she’ll get if this reaches court?”

I clenched my jaw. “You think life is black and white just because you wear a uniform?”

He chuckled. “No. But I know you’d be stupid to reject this offer.”

“I’m not stupid,”

“Then prove it,” he snapped. “The Circle. You have contact with someone important in that organisation, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I just watched a man nearby filling his jerrycan. The petrol smell was thick in the air, and my head was crowded — thoughts doing warm-up like players before kickoff, waiting for the referee’s whistle to storm the pitch.

“Answer me,” his voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What if I do?” I said quietly.

“Then use it,” Kalu replied. “Give me one name. Just one. Help me break them. You do that for me.....” he lifted the file like he was ready to tear it — “and Tiffany walks free. You don’t?, and she rots in jail. Not small prison o, I'm talking Maximum prison.”

"Wait..." I blinked hard. “What the hell are you talking about? She only slapped you! I was there!”

He smiled. “You don’t know how far I'm willing to go with this issue.” He opened the file and showed two photos — one with a swollen cheek, another with red eyes. “You see these two pictures, they are enough. Now it’s assault with a weapon. That alone can give her life imprisonment.”

The calmness in his tone told me everything — this man wasn’t bluffing.

“You can’t do this,” I said sharply. “You’re supposed to uphold the law. You want to ruin her life for some personal glory?”

He laughed dryly. “Glory? No. Personal? You damn right.”

“I thought so. You’ve got serious problems, man. You’ll ruin her life because of these people? How’s that fair?”

“They took people from me,” he said. “I’ll crush anyone who stands in my way. Anyone.”

I rubbed my jaw. “You’re asking me to betray people who can make someone disappear without leaving a shadow.”

He shrugged. “Help me, and they’ll never have that power again.”

“This is blackmail,” I said.

He smirked. “Call it whatever color you want. The choice is yours.”

I stared at him. “You’re asking me to play a dangerous game. Can you even protect me if things go south?”

He gave that fake smile. “If you do your part, you won’t need protection.”

“Lies,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” he snapped.

“Nothing.”

We sat there in silence. The sun was rising higher, burning hotter. Sweat rolled down my back.
I checked my watch, almost 8 a.m. I needed to move.

“So what’s it going to be?” he asked.

I stood slowly. “Give me till noon. I’ll give you my answer.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t waste time. Some things don’t wait. If I don’t hear from you by noon, this file goes straight to the top.”

He turned, walked back to his car, and drove off. The sound of his shoes on the floor echoed like a gavel hitting wood.

I just stood there, watching the Camry disappear into traffic.

I let out a long, ragged sigh. Didn’t need him to tell me — I already knew.

“Damn. I’m deep in shit.”

No choice looked clean. Turn on the Circle and I lose the only thing that’s been making me feel like I'm a part of the gangs of Lagos. That kind of power you feel when you know you can just do something and go away with it. And on the other hand,
help Kalu and get Tiffany back but kiss my income goodbye. Either way, somebody bleeds — and probably it’ll be me.


*****

By 8:07 a.m., I was at Mushin Garage.

The air smelled like only Lagos garages can smell — smoke, sweat, and old engines.
Buses shouted their destinations — “Ojuelegba! Yaba! Oshodi!” — and conductors waved naira notes in the air like flags.

I stood by the roadside, scanning every black SUV that passed. The sun was resuming to its earthly duties. I checked my phone again, still nothing from Chuka.

To distract myself, I tried calling Tiffany.
No answer.
Second call, still nothing.
Third call, same.

Then, on the fourth try, she picked.

Her voice was soft, tired, but still lovely to hear.
“Darous…”

Hearing her speak again almost made my knees weak.
“Tiffany… thank God. I’ve been calling since! Are you okay? How are they treating you?”

She sighed. “As okay as anyone can be in a cell. They just gave me the phone. Said you’ve been calling since midnight.”

“Yes… I’ve been worried sick, babe.”

“Don’t worry too much,” she said softly. “My lawyer will handle it. I’ll be fine.”

I smiled faintly, trying to sound strong. “You better be. You still owe me a night, remember?”

She gave a weak laugh — that same small laugh that used to make me forget my problems.

“You and sex,” she said. “But we need to talk once I’m out, okay?”

“I know,” I said quietly.

“You do?” she asked.

Before I could answer, the sound of screeching tires cut through the noise.

A black Pathfinder stopped right in front of me. Tinted glass. The back door opened slowly.

Inside, a man sat at the far end — all black outfit, cap, sunglasses, gloves. His face calm, unreadable.

He raised his hand and motioned for me to get in.

“Tiff… I’ll call you back,” I whispered.

“Darous? What’s that sound—”

The line went dead as I ended the call.

I stepped forward cautiously and entered the car. The door slammed shut behind me.

Before I could even settle in, a thick black hood dropped over my head.

“Don’t remove it,” The man beside me said in a cold voice. “Unless I tell you to.”

My heart jumped, but I didn’t argue. The engine roared, and the car began to move.



To be continued.

Damilgodwin:
My boss ehn, TBM no know say this is story done super glue our mind and focus to his side.

Boss if you dae busy ehn, just drop information

We no fit rush you na, because you dae really try for us

alright boss, I apologise 🙏

Ohibenemma:
OK... Eagerly anticipating the next update.
Darous would be a fool to fall into any form of temptation with Toyosi...not when he had been so forewarned already

and to be forewarned is to be forearmed

Continuation of episode 26.


Toyosi was standing there.
Dressed in a thin, sleeveless top that barely covered her, her skin glowing faintly under the dim bulb in the hallway. Her eyes were dark, smoky, and dangerous as they locked onto mine.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to ask.

She bit her lip and stepped closer. “I told you I do crazy things when I’m scared,” she whispered.

Before I could respond, she pressed her palms to my chest and pushed me back — gentle, but firm enough to make me stumble onto the bed. Then she climbed over me, her breath warm against my neck.

Her lips found mine — hungry, desperate and tense. She rocked her crotch against the eight inches dick given to me from birth. I could feel her juices dripping onto my dick and down to my balls.

"Wait… wait," I whispered, my voice shaking.

"No more waiting. We’re doing this," she said, breathing hard as she kissed me with fierce energy.

"Toyo… Toyosi… we can’t," I stammered, trying to find the right words.

"Says who?" she laughed softly, her tone playful but firm.

I was still searching for an answer when she moved her lips first to my neck, then to my nip*ples, her touch sending a rush of feelings through me that made it hard to think straight.

Damn it!” I gasped when her warm mouth found my bazooka. Her lips moved with slow, teasing circles around it while her nails played gently on my balls. Her touch was soft and sharp at the same time. The mix of sensations made my thoughts scatter, leaving me on the Y-junction of Resistance and Surrender. . I did a very quick recitation of 'bugle born bugle born, how many bugle born do you want' in my head. The result favoured Surrender, so I pulled her face back to mine and pressed a deep kiss onto her lips. I could taste my own pre-cum on her lips. The kiss grew fierce, our mouths clashing with urgency, as if neither of us wanted to let go.

I then grabbed her soft a*ss and moved it fast around my dick that was resting against her wet vagina lips.

The kiss deepened, turned wild. Her hands moved fast, sliding over my skin. My heart pounded so loud it drowned out every other reason.

I shifted my hand up from her a*ss and grabbed her waist as she pressed her body against mine, her soft moans mixing with the sound of our heavy breathing. She straddled me, her hair falling like dark curtains around our faces. My hands trailed her back as her fingers reached down — searching for my dick.

She jerked her body up a little bit and just as she was about to lower herself onto my full eight inches,
the door burst open.

We both froze.

Standing there, in the doorway, was Tiffany.

Her eyes — wide, red, and trembling — darted between us. The silence was deafening before it shattered with her scream.

“No!”

She turned around and bolted out of the room.

“Shit!” I cursed, pushing Toyosi off me. “What the hell have you done?”

Toyosi smirked through her tangled hair. “Mission accomplished,” she whispered, her voice dripping with twisted satisfaction.

I barely had time to process what she meant before I saw movement at the door again.

Tiffany was back.

But this time, her face was something else — pale, furious, and broken. In her hand gleamed a butter knife, trembling under the light.

“Wait—Tiffany, no—!”

Before I could move, she lunged.
The knife plunged deep into Toyosi’s stomach.

The sound — that sickening thud — tore through the room.

Toyosi gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief as blood soaked her thin top. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her belly.

“Tiff…” My voice cracked. “Oh my God—what have you done—”

But Tiffany didn’t stop. Her hand shook as she yanked the knife out, the blade dripping with blood. Then she turned to me.

Her chest heaved. Tears streamed down her face, but her eyes — her eyes burned like fire.

“You! Just a few hours without me and you are already fvcking my friend..” she hissed, voice breaking. “You this son of a b*tch!”

She raised the knife—high, shaking, ready to strike—

And then—

I woke up.

Sweat covered my whole body. My chest was rising and falling fast, like I’d just finished running.

I looked at the wall clock — it was 5:55 a.m.

“Who carry blue film enter my dream na?” I muttered to myself.
But the next sound that followed was a sudden, loud knock on the door.

I froze, confused. “Who’s there?” I asked.

“It’s me, Toyosi…” came the soft reply.

And who says dreams don’t come true?



To be continued... Sorry for the delay my guys. Just been busy this week o. Edakun 🙏

Episode 26 - Scared And Crazy Things.


Detective Kalu was smiling as he drove away from the cemetery, the wheels of his car cutting through the quiet road. The air was heavy, yet inside him, there was a strange lightness. The burial had gone smoothly — maybe too smoothly. Everything had worked exactly as he wanted. Even better.

He had come to the cemetery with only one plan: push Darous until he snapped.
Make him angry enough to do something stupid — anything at all— that would give Kalu the right to arrest him. Then, once Darous was locked up, he’d break him down and make him talk. Whichever means necessary. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

He didn’t need to destroy the whole Circle at once. He only needs just one name. One single important name from the deadly organisation— that’s all he needed to follow the trail again. Every lead he had before had gone cold. Every informant dead or missing. Now, with a child on the way, he had no choice but to take the risk. Desperate times calls for desperate measures they say.

He glanced at the rearview mirror. Tiffany sat in the back seat, her face pale but calm, her left wrist cuffed to the headrest of the seat in front of her. She was staring out the window, lost in deep thought

Kalu smirked, his eyes fixed on the road. “Hey, lady,” he said, voice calm but cold. “Do you even understand the gravity of what you just did?”

He waited for a reply, but Tiffany said nothing.

“Alright then,” he continued, his tone raised a bit. “How long you stay in custody depends on your boyfriend. If he gives me what I want, you’ll be out before you know it. But if he decides to play smart…”

He hesitated for a moment. “I swear on my daughter’s life—”
He froze. He had just revealed too much. Quickly, he forced a laugh and corrected himself. “—I mean, on the life of my late father, I’ll make sure you spend a good part of your youth behind bars.”

Tiffany didn’t even flinch. She just glared at him through the mirror.

Kalu turned slightly in his seat. “You hear me?”

“I’m invoking my right to remain silent,” she said flatly.

Kalu’s lips twitched into a small grin. “So that’s how you want to play it? By the books, huh? Alright then. I just hope your boyfriend values your freedom more than his secrets.”

For a while, silence filled the car — just the sound of the engine humming and the road stretching endlessly ahead. Tiffany’s mind was far away, turning over the detective’s words like puzzle pieces.

Then, without warning, she said quickly, “Forget it. What exactly do you want from my boyfriend? Why are you so obsessed with him? You keep showing up, threatening him like he’s some wanted terrorist. What did he even do?”

Kalu’s eyes flicked to the mirror again. “You want the truth?”

“I want the truth,” she said, her tone sharp. “Because I hate police officers like you. Always thinking you’re smarter than everyone else. There are real criminals out there, but you choose to harass an innocent man. My boyfriend is a bricklayer — a hardworking man. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Kalu chuckled softly. “A bricklayer, huh?”

“Yes. A bricklayer. And a damn good one at that.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes darkening. “A bricklayer that rented a G-Wagon for four hundred thousand naira, for only a day oooo. A bricklayer that uses a Rolex watch? A bricklayer that gave his friend a burial worth more than most people’s weddings. Tell me, Tiffany—how many bricklayers do you know can afford to rent a car like that for a day?”

Tiffany hesitated. “I told you I gave him some money—”

"Some money uh? You better start looking out for yourself..."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you should stop aiding and abbeting a criminal."

"He's not a criminal!" She fired. "He's got people in his life. Aside me, he's got some important people in his life too."

He cut in sharply. “Exactly. Some important people. Important people from them.”

She frowned. “Them? Who are you talking about?”

"Nothing.."

"Oh... I see, I see whats at play here, you are just jealous."

Kalu leaned back, his grin thin and cold. “Jealous? No, Miss. This isn’t about jealousy. It’s about stopping something dangerous. Your boyfriend isn’t just a lucky bricklayer. He’s part of something bigger. Something dark.”

Tiffany’s jaw tightened. “You’re lying.”

He turned his full face toward her in the mirror, his eyes locking with hers. “You think I’m lying? Ask yourself this — how much do you really know about him?”

The question hung in the air like smoke.

And for the first time, Tiffany couldn’t answer. Her heart began to pound. Her mind went back — to the day she met Darous at the resort. The simple, charming guy who made her laugh when everyone else bored her. The one who talked about life like it was a joke. The same man who showed up at Mrs. Adeoye’s party in a G-Wagon and later said he had rented it.

At the time, she believed him but still got furious that he wasted his money on something so useless as renting a vehicle just for show off. The car, the swagger, the confidence — it all seemed harmless. Then came the strange way he had asked her to finance Baba T's burial. She had thought maybe perhaps he only wanted to give his friend a befiting burial. She had gladly agreed to sponsor it because she could afford it fifty times over. But now, this.

"You know your boyfriend belongs to an organisation?" Kalu's voice cut through her thoughts.

She turned back to Kalu, her voice low. “What organisation are you talking about?”

Kalu smiled — a slow, victorious smile.

“Now,” he said softly, “I'm also invoking my rights to remain silent till further notice.” He said with a smile, mocking her earlier statement.

******


The cemetery had gone a little bit quiet compared to an hour ago. Most of the mourners were already leaving, and only a few people remained—funeral organisers, gravediggers, and some neighbours finishing the last bottles of malt and beer. The sky was already turning orange when I rushed toward Toyosi and Kenny, who were standing near the tent, arguing about how to share drinks. Slow music was still playing out of the large bluetooth speaker under the tent.

“Toyosi! Kenny!” I shouted. My voice came out cracked.

They both turned sharply. Toyosi’s face brightened for a moment—until she saw the look in my eyes.

“What happened?” she asked.

I could barely breathe. “ Tiffany has been arrested”

Her mouth fell open. “What? Who arrested her?”

“Detective Kalu,” I said. “ She’s in his custody now.”

For a moment, Toyosi just stood there, frozen. Then she dropped the bottle of malt in her hand—it shattered on the floor. “Jesus Christ! This is a disaster!”

“Toyosi calm down,” Kenny said, but she wouldn’t stop.

“No, no, no… this is bad. This is really bad,” she said, clutching her head. “A burial and an arrest on the same day? This is not good!”

Kenny was quiet. I pulled him aside and whispered, “Bro, I didn’t intend for it to end like this. I only told you to text him so he could be here to see how everything went and not to come and arrest anyone. I just want to send him on a wild goose chase in case he was planning something funny.”

Kenny sighed deeply. “I know. I know, bro. But what’s done is done. You need to go to the station now. Be with Tiffany. Let me and Toyosi handle everything here.”

I nodded weakly and went to Toyosi who was still lamenting under her breath .“I’ll need the car, I'm going to the station.”

“Alright.” Toyosi said quickly. “I’ll follow you. We’ll go together.”

"Alright. Let's go."

We left the cemetery in the black GLE, speeding down the dusty road while the funeral songs faded behind us. I could still see Baba T’s grave in the side mirror, freshly covered, flowers scattered around it.

The drive felt like it would never end. Toyosi was on her phone the whole time, calling everyone she could—her lawyer friend, a customer who knew someone in the police, even the man who once helped her cousin when SARS officers arrested him.

But every call ended the same way—with disappointment.

“They said the case is serious,” Toyosi finally said, dropping her phone on her lap. “Assaulting a police officer, Darous. That’s one year minimum, even with a good lawyer.”

I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white. “But she didn’t assault him. He’s the one harassing us.”

“They don’t care,” she said. “Once it’s a police matter, they’ll twist the story.”

We reached the station around 5 p.m. Two policemen sat lazily at the counter; one was eating suya while the other picked his teeth and argued about the Blord and VeryDarkMan iPhone 17 wahala. They were busy talking about how Ratels might be the ones who caused Blord’s Instagram account to get deactivated.

“Good evening, officer,” Toyosi started, her voice polite but tense. “We’re here to see a lady that was just brought in by Detective Kalu—Tiffany.”

The corporal at the counter barely looked up. “No visitation today. Come back tomorrow.”

“But officer, please—”

“I said no visitation!” he barked. “Una think say this place na hotel? Go and wait outside, you are not my friend, MY FRIEND!”

Toyosi looked like she wanted to scream, but I held her arm. “Let’s just wait,” I whispered.

By 7:15 p.m., a black Toyota Corolla stopped in front of the station. A tall, confident woman stepped out. Toyosi recognized her right away—Tiffany’s lawyer. She wore a neat navy blue suit and carried a small leather file.

“Madam T,” she greeted as she and Toyosi exchanged a quick hug.

Then she turned to me. “Mr. Darous, right?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said, quickly standing up.

She gave a short nod. “I’m Barrister Uche. I’ve spoken with Detective Kalu and the officers in charge. I’ll handle this. You two should go home. There’s no need to stay here tonight.”

Toyosi frowned. “Go home? But she’s still inside!”

“I understand,” the lawyer said calmly. “But trust me, there’s no cause for alarm. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her tonight. You’ll hear from me once I have more information on the case.”
She smiled faintly.

Toyosi and I walked back to the car, but I kept looking back at the station's entrance door. Tiffany was inside — alone, probably scared, maybe crying. She could be regretting ever meeting me. I hadn’t really given her much since we met, and now she’s paying the price for being with me.

My hands went tight into my fists. “I’ll get her out,” I said under my breath.

****

The moment we stepped in, the house felt strange—like it had been waiting for bad news. Even the lights seemed dimmer than usual.
I dropped the car keys on the table and slumped into the couch, running both hands over my face. My head was pounding. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around how the day had turned from burying a friend… to watching my girlfriend getting dragged away by a police officer.

Toyosi disappeared into her room without a word. I sat there for a long while, just staring at the floor, whispering under my breath.
“How did everything go so bad in one single day? Oh bloody god of thunder.. that's your daughter-in-law... For god's sake.”

The ticking wall clock was the only reply I got.

After some minutes, Toyosi walked back into the sitting room. She had changed out of her black funeral gown into something softer. A loose silk top that hung low on her shoulders, and shorts so small they almost made my dick twitch. Her hair was down, her skin glowing faintly under the lights.

For a second, I just blinked at her, confused. Why would she dress like this after a day like this?

But I pushed the thought aside quickly. This wasn’t the time to read meanings into anything.

“Toyosi,” I said quietly as she settled down on the sofa across me. “thank you… for everything today. For helping out with the burial, the people, the drinks… you made sure Baba T’s farewell wasn’t a total mess. I really appreciate it.”

She waved her hand lightly. “Don’t mention jare. You’re like a brother to me already. It's the least we could do.”

I nodded slowly. “Still, I’m grateful.”

"It's nothing. It's just that, I'm ...I'm just... scared right now." Her eyes carried a kind of fear I couldn’t fully describe at that moment.

"Scared? What’s scaring you?" I asked softly.

"The whole thing... it’s scaring me. And whenever I’m scared, I do crazy things," she said, her voice almost breaking.

"Wait… crazy things like what? I don’t understand."

She stood up from her seat and moved closer, sitting beside me—close enough for me to smell her perfume. It was soft, like coconut mixed with something sweeter. For a moment, silence filled the room.

"Darous..." she said quietly. "You need to help me out."

My mind started racing. The corner of my eyes caught her breasts—those round, firm, nippling-dangerous-iPhone17-blord-phynalistic-reginal-divorsitic breasts. Wait… what nonsense did I just say? Well, that’s just to show you how much effect those breasts had on me at that moment.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she then placed her hand gently on my shoulder.

"Ermm..." I tried to talk, but my voice suddenly got stuck. This is cake wrapped in a snare. Eat and die.

"There’s something I really need to tell you." She said after a brief seconds of silence. "Especially now that it’s just you and me in this house," Toyosi said but I couldn't look in her direction.

"Oooookay… what is it?" I asked, half-curious and kind of nervous at the same time.

"You know, there’s—" she began, but her words were cut off by the loud ring of my phone.
The sound filled the quiet house like an alarm.

I quickly pulled it out of my pocket, hoping it was Tiffany or the lawyer. But when I looked at the screen, it was Kenny. I sighed—disappointed, but not annoyed.

"Excuse me, I need to take this," I said, and Toyosi slowly took her hand off my shoulder.

"Hello?" I answered.

"How far bro, ah don reach house," Kenny said.

"House? Which house?" I asked.

"My own house nah," he replied. "Burial don finish, so I no see reason to stay for Toyosi’s place again."

I was quiet for a second. “True,” I said softly.

"How's the whole Tiffany matter? You still dey police station?" He asked.

I explained everything to him—how we went there, met the officers, and waited for hours until her lawyer arrived and told us to go home.

"I just blame myself for everything," I said finally.

“You don start again guy, blaming yourself for everything wrong in the world. don’t do that abeg.” he replied.

"What do you mean, K? It’s my fault she’s in that cell. I should’ve handled that man better," I said, lowering my voice so Toyosi wouldn’t hear too much.

"Bro, just calm down. Don’t beat yourself up. I know you—small time now you go start planning one Michael Scott move to break her out of that cell. Just relax. Her lawyer go handle am." he said.

"Okay bro..."

" Alright na..we go hook later."

" No lele na, maybe when all this is over, I’ll get a new apartment ganself. These ladies have really tried for me," I said.

"That’s good. But no forget your promise o. I don help you with your Detective stuff, so now you go help me too. No allow sapa wound me abeg," he said, laughing.

I smiled a bit. "No wahala. Let this storm pass first."

"Alright bro, I trust you," he said.

We said our goodbyes, and I dropped the phone.

Toyosi had been watching me the whole time. “You want to move out?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think it’s time,” I said. “But not until Tiffany is released. I’ll sort things out after.”

She leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs. “You can stay here for as long as you want,” she said softly. “You’re my friend’s man. I owe it to her to make sure you’re okay… until she comes back home.”

"Okay, thanks. So what's that thing you wanted to tell me?" I asked.

Then she leaned closer and gave me a gentle peck on the cheek. Her lips were warm. It was… unsual and definitely spiritual in 9ice's voice.

Before I could even react to what she just did, she stood up and walked slowly toward the kitchen, swaying slightly. “What will you eat?” she asked, glancing back at me with a half-smile.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m not hungry.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Okay then.” And she disappeared into the kitchen.

I sank deeper into the couch. I couldn’t eat even if I tried. My chest felt like a stone was sitting on it. The image of Tiffany in handcuffs wouldn’t leave my mind.

One by one, the memories began to play—like an old film I couldn’t stop watching.

The first day I met her at the resort. How she smiled when I walked up to her, pretending to be confident even though my heart was pounding like mad. The party at Mrs Adeoye’s mansion—her laughter, her swagger, the way she made heads turn with her presence, the way she held my hand and made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere.

Then later that night inside the room given to us by Mrs Adeoye . The MouthAction. How close we got to having our first sexual intercourse.
That reminds me, she had promised that our first time would be magical —tonight.
"Ah...fvck."
I muttered under my breath.

I sighed deeply and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

All I could think of was Tiffany.
And how I was going to get her back

That night, sleep refused to come.
I kept calling her lawyer; no answer. I sent message after message on WhatsApp — still nothing. The silence was killing me.

I walked to the fridge and poured myself a glass of wine. I drank it all at once, then my phone buzzed. I quickly picked it up, hoping it was Tiffany.
But it wasn’t — it was Chuka.

His message was short:

“Mushin garage. 8 a.m tomorrow . sharp. A black Pathfinder will pick you up.”

My chest tightened as I read it over and over again.

I quickly typed, “I’m still not feeling well, boss.”
Seconds later, his reply came in:

“Good. Then come sick. The mission won’t wait for your health.”

I sighed. One way or the other, I must find a way to sleep on time. So I crushed half a sleeping pill, and washed it down with water. I set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. and lay back, watching the ceiling fade into blur.
Within minutes, I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep. Or so I thought.

****

A knock landed on the door.
I blinked.

The knock came again, soft but urgent.
I picked myself up and stumbled to the door.
When I opened it, my heart stopped.

Damilgodwin:
Hunger oooooooooo


Hunger


Hunger oooooo

soon bro. The next update is kind of long. Will drop it once it's ready

ghettochild:
Me wey be future unborn child of Darous son of sango, the sharp guy.. how I know go spot am??
I won’t be surprised to find out that toyosi and her friend Tiffany know the Circle wella n dem be members sef.
I been with you since Day one so how know your plot twists is definitely gonna be

ah, grandson of Shango pikin, your papa don dey lose guard😂😂😂

dawno2008:
Na wah ooo😕😕😕 this update is really anyhow jawe😤first I believed Darous spent too much money for the burial 😳like come on,it only open them to who is really watching 😔 Darous is really loose guarding 🥺 with too many untrustworthy friends ie Kenny and Toyosi 😏 Tiffany could easily think and wonder how detective Kalu knows about the burial date😔and Kenny is biting more than he can chew💯most annoying part is son of thunder behaving like goldsmith's son😤😤😤

In summary,this update dey vex me,cos the match Tiffany promise that big head son of ⚡ thunder don get k-leg😤😤cos that pretty damsel is getting a room in a dark smelling cell🤬
TBM wa gbayi🍻💯👍

Even me sef was looking forward to the match but be like fifa Kalu don cancel the match ooooo.... 😂

EPISODE 25 – The Quiet Ride.



The GLE crawled through traffic like an old tortoise with waist pain. To make matters worst, one keke man in front of us was driving like he borrowed sense from a goat.

Kenny leaned back, sweating and laughing like a mad man.
“Guy! I'm still in shock! You just open mouth talk CK Mania, and those idiots begin behave like altar boys! If na only me, dem for hang my head for shrine!”

I laughed. “That’s power, my brother. Some names don't need gun. You just drop am, and everybody go behave.”

Kenny held his chest, still laughing. “Forget that thing! That your CK Mania na real juju! You see Cobra? The guy freeze like clock wey hin battery don die!”

I grinned. “This one pass juju, bro. Some names for this country dey walk with their own customised thunder. It can strike at anytime and anywhere.”

Kenny turned, eyes wide. “Teach me that one abeg. Next time landlord come collect rent, I go just shout CK Mania! Maybe he go faint.”

I laughed so hard I almost hit the horn. “Idiot! If you try am, landlord go wake up and double your rent for noise pollution.”

Kenny snapped his fingers. “But guy, that Agama guy ehn! You see how he bend? Before, the man dey roar like lion. After you mention that name, he just mellow like goat wey dem pour cold water for him body!”

I nodded. “That’s why I talk am before. No fear man — fear the name wey dey back am.”

Kenny shook his head, grinning. “Nigeria sweet and mad at the same time. You fit shout ‘Up NEPA!’ today and still cry tomorrow say dem no bring light.”

We both burst into laughter, that kind of laughter that shakes your chest and makes people in the next car look at you like you just escaped from Yaba Left.

For that short moment, everything felt light. Like the old days — when I was just a bricklayer, Kenny still doing his aluminium work, Baba T arguing about his SportyBet slip, and Jude always complaining of how the girl he hired at one of his gas shop has stolen money enough to build a new gas plant.
Evenings filled with gist, laughter, and suya.

Inside that GLE that belonged to Tiffany — it almost felt like nothing had changed. Just two idiots laughing inside their own madness, pretending like nothing has changed.

We finally escaped the traffic and rolled into one of the most expensive bars in town. The place was alive — music booming, lights flashing, people shouting, smoke floating everywhere. Girls were dancing on poles like they were made of rubber.

Kenny and I grabbed a corner table. The shisha was bubbling, barbecue smoking, and the bottles sweating like sinners in church.

We sat quietly, eating our barbecue and drinks, while the music from the bar's speakers played loudly.

"Darous, look at that girl..." Kenny patted me and pointed toward a stripper.
I looked where he was pointing and saw her. I was amazed by what I saw. Her waist moving like it had engine oil inside, I mean like it had it's own power steering. Every step she took was a temptation with undercover danger.

I stood up, half-drunk, staggering like a man undergoing deliverance inside a white garment church. Pulled out five bundles of cash and dropped them gently on her yansh.

She turned slowly. Her eyes? Sharp enough to cut glass.

"No touching Mr man." She said, calm but deadly.

I smiled. “No vex, mami. No be my fault, na these money just dey cry for my pocket say dey wan meet your yansh.”

She just raised one eyebrow. So, in my drunken wisdom, I added another bunch of twenty thousand naira— this time with my hand boldly resting on her yansh.

She didn’t talk. She just gave a short whistle.

From nowhere, two bouncers appeared — black suits, black shades, looking like human refrigerators with doors wide open.

“Sir,” one said, voice deep like hoover, “behave yourself.”

Still forming bold, I pointed at my chest. “Do you people know who I am? I’m CK… CK Mania!”

They both looked at each other. Then one said, “Congratulations on your naming ceremony.”

Before I could blink, they lifted me like bag of beans, carried me outside, and dropped me neatly on the floor. They dropped my money on me and it rained down like funeral flyers.

Kenny came running out, laughing like a madman. “Ahhh! CK Mania wey Agama fear — bouncers no even rate you! Bro, your power expired at the gate!"

We both laughed until tears rolled down our faces as I drove the car off into the night, leaving the noise of the bar fading behind.

******

Detective Kalu woke up to the soft vibration of his phone. A message.
He blinked twice, rubbed his eyes, and reached for it on the bedside table.

Message from Kenny:
“Good morning sir. Just wanted to let you know — Baba T’s burial will hold today around noon. At the cemetery near the morgue.”

Kalu read it twice, then smiled to himself.
“Good lad.” he whispered.

He threw the blanket aside and swung his legs down from the bed. But before he could stand, he felt a soft hand on his back. His wife was awake, still half-covered in the duvet.

“Kalu, where are you going this early?”

“Work. Something just came up.” He answered.

She sat up slowly, staring at him with tired eyes. “Before you go… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Her voice was quiet but heavy. Kalu turned slightly, already sensing trouble. He knew his wife too well. He knows the kind of look she always gives before dropping a bomb.

“What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve not seen my period for three months.”

Kalu paused and then blinked. Then scoffed. “Oh, come on. Maybe your hormones are just playing games again. You worry too much.”

She shook her head. “No, Kalu. I went for a test yesterday.”

That froze him. He turned sharply to face her. “You did what?”

She frowned, a little defensive now. “I went for a test. I needed to be sure before telling you.”

He stood there, his heartbeat racing. “You went to the hospital by yourself? Are you out of your mind? You could’ve been followed! Do you know who’s watching us right now?”

Calm down, Kalu!” Lana said, raising her hands slightly. “I took precautions. Nobody followed me. I even used a fake name — Halima Buhari. And I gave them a wrong address too.”

Kalu stared at her, eyes sharp and searching. After a long second, he exhaled, dragging his hand over his tired face. Relief slowly melted through his tension.

He sat beside her on the bed, voice softer now. “Still, Lana… you can’t just go out like that without calling me. Not with everything happening. You know what’s out there.”

She scoffed. “Oh please. You’re the one who said I shouldn’t call your line unless it’s a life-or-death emergency.”
She paused, then rolled out of the duvet. The morning light from the window hit her bare uncovered body—her firm breasts glowing, flawless and real. “These days, one can’t even tell what qualifies as an emergency anymore,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Kalu said nothing. He just sat there, watching her — a mix of love, fear, and guilt in his eyes.

Lana sighed, her voice softening. “I’m sorry, Kalu. I just needed to be sure before saying anything.”

He forced a tired smile and stood. Slowly, he walked to her, his hand brushing her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered. “So… what did the test say?”

Her lips trembled. She took a small breath before answering, barely above a whisper:
“I’m three months gone.”

The words slammed into him like a brick wall. His heart skipped. His eyes widened.

“Three… months?”

The air in the room changed — heavy, frozen. Even the sound of traffic outside felt far away, like the world had gone silent to listen.

Kalu’s mind spun.
Images flashed — their daughter, Naomi, ten years old now, laughing every time her home tutor showed up. The secret hospital visits. The tests. The failed hopes. The nights they held each other in silence, praying for another chance.

And now, this.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “You’re serious?”

Lana nodded slowly, a small smile forming through tears. “I am. I even saw the scan.”

Kalu covered his face with both hands and let out a shaky breath. His shoulders trembled slightly.
“God…” he whispered. “After all these years.”

He lowered his hands and looked at her again — this time not like a detective, but like a man who just found a piece of himself he thought was lost forever.

Then, as quickly as joy opened a new Facebook account on the mobile phone of his mind, fear clicked the follow button and made a very fast comment under the pregnancy post.
Just two words:

The Circle.

He looked at her again, a swirl of love and panic in his eyes.

He forced a small smile. “That’s… that’s good news, my love. The best news.”

He pulled her close, kissing her forehead. But behind that smile, his mind was already calculating and plotting his next move.


******

The Sunday morning started quiet.
I woke up before everyone else. The air inside Toyosi’s house felt heavy, like it too knew what was about to happen. Tiffany was in the kitchen, moving around in her white wrapper, her face pale but calm. Toyosi was on the phone, giving last-minute instructions to the event people at the cemetery. Kenny just sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing as tears traced the contours of his face.

I had been trying to reach Jude for the past few days. Each time I called, the same cold voice said, “The number you dialed is not available.” After the fifth try, I gave up on calling and started dropping messages — on WhatsApp, Telegram, even Facebook. But none of them got read. Not a single blue tick. So after a while, I just sighed and let it go.
Maybe he didn’t want to face today. I couldn’t blame him.

By 7:00am, we were ready.
Tiffany dressed in a black fitted gown that hugged her body just right — simple, elegant, but with that quiet kind of beauty that makes people stop and stare without knowing why. Her hair was packed neatly, her skin glowed softly under the sitting room light. She looked like sorrow wrapped in grace — too beautiful for the moment, yet perfect for it.

Toyosi stood beside her in a black lace dress that shimmered gently as she moved. Her beauty was calm and mature but Tiffany… she carried a certain glow that morning. Maybe it was her eyes, maybe it was the sadness behind them — either way, she looked like a poem dressed in black.

Kenny and I wore black too. He had on a plain shirt and trousers, everything simple but sharp. I wore the same — a clean black shirt, dark trousers, shades to hide my eyes. The girls had gotten us the clothes the day before. They had even bought one extra, in case Jude decided to show up. But he didn’t. So it stayed folded inside the nylon, waiting for no one.

We all stood in front of the house for a long moment, saying nothing. The air itself felt heavy, pressing down on our chests. Even the birds were quiet. You could almost feel Baba T’s spirit around us — not angry, not sad, just there, watching.

Tiffany’s hand trembled a little as she adjusted her gown. Toyosi placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes soft but red. None of us spoke — there was nothing to say that hadn’t already been said in our hearts.

Then I took out the car key. The black GLE waited quietly under the dull morning sun.

“Let’s go,” I said quietly.

We moved towards the car in silence, our steps slow and heavy. Our collective perfume lingered in the air, soft and sad. Toyosi’s lace brushed lightly against my hand as she passed. And as we got into the car, it felt like we were carrying more than just ourselves — we were carrying memories, regrets, and one last promise: to take Baba T home.

By 9 a.m., the funeral team arrived. The casket they brought could make a man jealous of the dead — smooth mahogany finish, gold handles, and a white velvet interior. Three hundred thousand naira well spent.

When the morgue attendants rolled out Baba T’s body, silence fell over the whole place. It was like the air itself stopped moving. His face looked calm — too calm — like someone who had finally found the rest life never gave him. The once-potbelly he used to boast about was gone, flat and quiet. The same belly that once held half the beer in Lagos… now just an empty shell. It hit all of us again at once — Baba T was really gone.

We placed him gently inside the casket and closed the lid.

The hired Mercedes-Benz GLS was parked outside, shining quietly under the pale morning sun. It was meant for one thing only — to carry Baba T’s body to the cemetery.

As they lifted his casket into the vehicle, something hit me deep. In his whole life, Baba T had only ridden in a car that expensive once — that night I rented a G-Wagon for Mrs. Adeoye’s event.

Now look at this — he finally got his second ride, but he couldn’t even see the road.

Kenny wiped his face with his palm. “Damn,” he muttered. “Baba T is gone like that!.” Tears flooded his eyes again.

I nodded. Couldn’t even speak. My chest felt tight.


****

At the cemetery, the crowd shocked me.
Men from the bar where Baba T breathed his last, the regulars, even some girls who used to joke with Baba T were there — all dressed in black, faces wet with tears. The moment they saw the casket being brought down, a few of them started crying loud.
Tiffany and Toyosi really tried. They handled everything — flowers, chairs, drinks, sound system, even a small canopy for crowd. It wasn’t just a burial anymore; it was a proper farewell.

The pastor began his sermon.
His voice cracked through the microphone:
“We are gathered here to lay our brother to rest… a man full of laughter, a man who gave joy to many…”

Every word felt like a knife.
Kenny’s head hung low, his shoulders trembling. I wanted to comfort him, but the weight in my own chest was too much.

Tiffany leaned into me, her body warm against the cold air — saying nothing, just reminding me I wasn’t alone in the pain.

Toyosi placed a gentle tap on my shoulders and point in a direction. My eyes followed her hand and then — something caught my eye.

A figure standing alone by the far corner, under the palm trees. Black suit. Black hat. Dark shades.

It was Detective Kalu.

I froze. Then I nudged Kenny slightly.

“Look. Over there.”

He followed my eyes, saw Kalu, and hissed under his breath.
“Darous, leave that man, abeg… we are here for Baba T, not him.”
I breathed out and nodded.

"Who is he?". Toyosi asked.

"A police man. Investigating Baba T's death." Kenny answered.

“How did he even know we’re doing this today?” Toyosi asked again.

“He's the one at the hospital abi Darous?" Tiffany followed.

" Yeah..." I answered .

" This is holy ground — devil is not allowed here.” Tiffany spat.

I wasn’t angry. If anything, I was glad that Kalu had come, it meant the trap was working. He was watching, trying to figure out how a bricklayer like me could pay for such a rich burial. He’d link it to the Circle. He’d assume they sponsored it.
Good. Let him think that. Let him follow paper trails and whispers. By the time he finds Tiffany’s name on the receipts, it’ll point him the wrong way. My plan was moving.

The pastor’s final words echoed in my head: “From dust we came… to dust we return.”

They lowered Baba T into the ground. The sound of the shovel against soil hit like a punch. Kenny broke first — a raw grief that ripped the air. Toyosi sobbed. Tiffany cried so hard it looked like she’d known him all her life.

“Do not despair, my brethren. He is in a better place,” the pastor said.

I nodded, but my chest said something else. Maybe the world didn’t deserve him.

Some minutes later, after the grave was filled, I turned towards the palm tree section. Kalu was still by the palm trees, watching us. He raised a hand — a quiet signal for me to come to him.

I excused myself and walked over to him.

He took off his shades and spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry for your loss. But you and I both know this man won’t rest until his killer is caught.”

“That’s your job, Detective,” I said.

He didn’t smile. “Maybe. But I’m not the one who helped the culprit escape.”

“Are you accusing me of something here?” I asked, frowning.

“No. Just stating facts. I could arrest you now, but I’m after a bigger game.”

“Game? Like PS5?"

" Don't you dare joke about this." He said with a hard gaze at me.

" I'm not... just tell me sir, what game is bigger than PS5?" I shot back.

He scowled. “You want to be funny right. I know the Circle pays for your life — the cars, the sudden money, all these shows, flashy lifestyles, a bricklayer like you? It's not possible. It all ties back to them. The Circle.”

“The Circle?” I said, mocking. “If you’d stop talking mathematics for one minute, maybe I'll get your point.”

He leaned closer. “Trying to play smart? Abi, don't worry I’ll dig you out. You’re just a small fish in a sea of whales.”

“Oh, now we’re into fish markets? Next you’ll blame me for the high cost of living.” I said.

“Be careful, boy. Be very careful,” he warned.

“You too,” I replied. "You should be careful of accusing me of something I didn't do...and face your..." I was still speaking when Tiffany’s voice snapped across from behind me.

“What is this sinner doing on holy ground?” she barked.

I turned around. Tiffany was standing there, her face tight and angry. I looked past her and saw Toyosi and Kenny still by the grave, holding each other and crying.

“It’s nothing serious,” I said quickly, trying not to make her suspect anything.

“Tell her everything, Darous,” Kalu said quietly.

“Hey, Mr—can’t you see we’re mourning here?” she snapped at him.

“And why should I care? Am I the one who killed him?” Kalu shot back.

She scoffed.
“You’re the kind of man who would rather watch the whole country burn if it made you king of the ashes,” she fired.

“Calm down, babe… let’s just go,” I said, trying to hold her hand and pull her away before Kalu will say something that can land me in trouble.

"Let's go..babe..leave this man alone." I told her and tried dragging her again.

“No. What exactly does he want from you?" She nearly yelled.

" It's nothing babe...just talking..." I said calmly but her face suddenly snapped.

" Don't lie to me....What does he want with you?” she asked, jerking her hand away from mine.

“Tell her na.." Kalu said and moved closer to us. " Tell your b*tch—” He started the insult but she didn't let him finish.

Tiffany moved fast towards him and slapped his face so hard his hat flew off. Heads turned. There was a second of stunned silence.

"You this b*tch!" Detective Kalu thundered and then another slap landed on his face, louder this time.

Kalu’s face flared red. “You are so dead today—” he roared.

“Call me a b*tch again.” Tiffany hissed, “and I’ll kick your balls so hard you’ll invent a new curse for the letter B.”

I grabbed her quickly and hold her close to my body. Trying to prevent her from hitting him again.

He stepped back, furious. He walked to his car and came back with handcuffs in his hand.

“Madam,” he said, voice cold and official, “you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer. You have the right to remain silent....”


I watched nervously as he pushed her into the back of his car and drove away.



To be continued

ghettochild:
No be the same CK Toyosi mentioned in her sleep talk

really bro? The same CK? 🤣 Oya Na. We gather dey. Didn't know you picked on that info... I tried to make it as subtle as I could but you still figured it out... Oya Na.. let's see if you are on point or it's just a stray gift

drewbar:
So many plots and sub plots, you just want to keep us guessing.

You might even be doing all this to confuse even more and leave us wanting more 🤣🤣.

Anyway, still loving the story.

Now who is Kenny loyal too, thats the million dollar question. He might even be playing both of them like this.

plots and acres..... 😂😂😂Brother, the story just dey start o. You know I don't like my stories ending in just few episodes. Maybe by the time we reach episode 40, we go round up sha. Lots of twists ahead baba mi

dawno2008:
You dis man😂😂😂you just dey play ping pong with ma brains 😂😂😂see twist,the game don start💯omoooo,this is getting deeper, infact I don't know how to analyze this matter🤔I hope Kenny is playing detective Kalu,and that Toyosi gal😕I wonder what her game is😔

TBM the badt guy💯more grace baba

This man... 😂😂😂 I can't stop laughing ajeh. Your comments dey always make person laugh ahswear. Toyosi's game is unknown to anyone. The writer writes as the spirit guides. Even I don't know how the story go end at all... That's how I feed off your comments to make even the story more un-guessable😂. But we gather dey na