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Continuation of episode 24.


From the shadows, Lana stepped out. Arms folded. Her face looked tired.

“You said you’d come earlier,” she said. “You always say that.”

“I tried,” he said quietly. “Had to make sure no one followed me.”

She looked at his hoodie, gloves, fake limp — the usual routine.
“Kalu, how long will this go on? You sneak in like a thief. Our daughter thinks you work in Nollywood. She only gets to see her father in weekends...”

He didn’t reply. Just stared at the floor.

She stepped closer, voice shaking.
“If you’re this scared for us, then take us away. Let’s leave. Go to the States. Start again. I’ll work. Naomi can go to school. You can—”

He cut her off gently.
“I can only protect you when you’re close. If I send you far away, I won’t know when danger comes. These people… they don’t need visas to kill.”

Lana blinked hard. “But hiding us here—”

“I’ve built layers around you,” he said. “Nobody even knows you exist. This is your safest place. Please understand me my love....”

The room went quiet.
Only Naomi’s soft hum as she played on the rug.

Lana’s eyes glistened.
“You talk like a man that’s already gone,” she whispered. “I’m scared, Kalu.”

He touched her cheek.
“I’m scared too,” he said. “But fear keeps us sharp. If I ever want to avenge my brother and sister, I can’t afford peace yet.”

She sighed — tired and defeated.
She had heard this same promise too many times.
She just nodded, because convincing Kalu was like trying to convince a stubborn Arsenal fan that Chelsea is the best club in London.

She leaned into his chest.
“Just promise me one day we’ll live like a real family.”

“One day,” he said.
And they both knew he was lying — not because he wanted to, but because he had to.


Later that midnight, Kalu sat on the couch, phone in hand.
Naomi slept on her mother’s lap, her little breath soft and steady.
The fan hummed lazily above.

He dialed Kenny’s number.
It rang once, twice — no answer.

He frowned. “Pick up, boy.”
Still nothing.

Why is Kenny ignoring his calls. Not supposed to be this time. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

He tried it again. Voicemail.

Kalu rubbed his face hard. “Damn it, Kenny…” He started thinking of every possible ways to make Kenny pay for this betrayal. He had promised to help Kenny take care of Agama and his boys, and also get him a chance at revenging his friend's death on Darous. But now this fool is trying to play a fast one one him. He was lost in thought for some moments until the phone buzzed.

It was a new message from Kenny.

He opened it fast.
Just six words:

"He bought the bait. Game on" .

Kalu’s lips curved into a slow grin.
The tension melted — replaced by that familiar rush of control.

He leaned back, whispering to himself,
“Good boy.”
And just like that — the hunter’s game began.

To be continued

Episode 24 - Game On.


The sky looked heavy, like it might open any minute. Traders scrambled, lifting boxes, folding tarps, and tugging their goods to safer spots. Market women shouted to one another, hands moving quick, faces worried — a single downpour could wash away a day’s work. Old men watched from doorways and shook their heads, saying this is how life always is: one storm after another, everyone trying to hold on.

Kalu’s office on the other hand was quiet.
The ceiling fan turned slowly, making that tired creaking sound like an old gate that needs oil.

His desk looked like a crime scene — files everywhere, cracked mugs, and one pen that had bled out on his notepad.

Kalu was leaning back in his chair, half-asleep, when his phone buzzed.

Unknown number. Encrypted line.

He frowned.
He knew this kind of call — the kind that tightens your chest before you even say hello. But Kalu had been in the game too long for fear to shake him now. Calls like this stopped scaring him a long time ago. This wasn’t his first.

He picked up.
“Detective Kalu speaking.”

There was silence at the other end for a brief seconds.
Then a voice came through — deep, slow, and twisted like it was coming from a radio underwater.

“So… you’re still chasing shadows, Detective.”

Kalu sat up straight. “Who is this?”

The voice scoffed.

“For a long time, you’ve been poking your nose into places it doesn’t belong — places that swallow men whole.”

Kalu’s jaw hardened. “If I was afraid of being swallowed, I wouldn’t have joined the Nigerian Police Force. Now, say your name… or get the hell off my line.”

The voice laughed — dry, cold and empty.

“You’re bold. I’ll give you that. But even bold men have soft spots. Weakness. Something… or someone.”

Kalu didn’t move. His grip on the phone stayed firm.

The voice continued.
“We don’t know yours yet. But we will. We’ll find it. We’ll dig through every layer of your life. Every file. Every shadow. Every whisper. And when we find it… we’ll press where it hurts.”

The fan above groaned again, like it was tired of hearing bad news.

Kalu spoke slowly.
“You think threats will stop me? I’ve buried men who thought they were gods.”

“Detective, this isn’t a threat,” the voice said. “It’s a mission. You keep digging, we’ll dig too. And we won’t stop until we find what keeps you breathing.”

Click.
The line went dead.

Kalu sat still, phone in hand.
His pulse was loud in his ears.
Fear didn’t rush in — it crept, like a shadow crawling up his spine.

He leaned forward and muttered under his breath,
“Damn it, Kalu… these people…”
Then, with a sharp burst of frustration, he slammed his fist on the table. The pen beside him rattled and rolled to the floor.

But even with the fear, something else rose inside him — anger.
The same fire that had kept him alive this long.

*******

The following morning, I woke up to Tiffany’s knock on the door.
Kenny was still lying flat on the bed like a dead man on free Wi-Fi.

I dragged myself up, opened the door… and there she was — Tiffany — standing in nothing but a white armless gown so thin it could pass for tissue paper. Her nipples were literally staging a military coup through the fabric.

For a brief second, I just stood there staring like a man who suddenly saw his destiny in HD. My eyes didn’t move. My brain didn’t either.
"This cock-teaser again...." I murmured to myself.

Then she smiled, stepped in and gave me a soft hug with a small peck on the cheek — the kind of peck that doesn’t mean anything but still rearranges your blood circulation. Let's call it a therapeutic hug. The smell of her hair invaded the territory of my nostrils and took my brain hostage for that brief moment.

“How was your night?” she asked with a dick-provoking smile.

Before I could even answer, my stubborn dick had already risen to the occasion — literally — pressing against her crotch while we were still in the hug.

She pulled back slightly, looked down, then back up with that mischievous smile of hers.
“This thing no get respect at all,” she said.

I smiled back. “Respect died the moment you wore that gown,” I replied.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, then suddenly changed the topic.
“By the way, where’s the key to Toyosi’s room? I got to her door and it’s locked.”

“The key?” I asked, patting my shorts. “It’s in my pocket.”

She raised a brow. “Oh really? Since when did you become her father? Are you grounding her now for drinking too much wine last night?”

I frowned a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked. “It means you like acting responsible when no one asked you to. Just give me the key.”

I sighed and pulled it out of my pocket. “Fine, here. Happy now?”

“Very,” she said, snatching it from my hand.

I followed her straight to Toyosi’s door. I unlocked it, and there she was — sleeping so deeply you’d think she was getting paid by the hour.
Tiffany’s eyes went wide. “Is she breathing?”

She touched her. Toyosi gave a small snore. Tiffany exhaled loudly then leaned closer, whispering, “Wow… this one is really committed to her sleep.”

I smiled. “Yeah, she’s probably competing for the world record.”

We both chuckled and headed for the kitchen. She started making me a cup of juice in her usual morning style.

Then I leaned on the counter and said, “Babe, I need your help.”

She squinted at me, suspicion already written all over her face.
“You again? What’s it this time?”

I didn’t answer. I just looked at her — a long, silent, serious kind of look that made her shift a little, like the room had suddenly gotten too warm.

Her voice softened. “Okay… what is it, babe? Talk to me.”

I took a slow breath, eyes still locked on hers. “Promise me you’ll do it first.”

She frowned slightly. “Do what?”

“Just promise,” I said quietly.

Her expression changed — a mix of curiosity and worry. “You’re scaring me now,” she whispered. “What are you planning again?”

“Relax babe. It's not something you can't do...." I said with an assuring look.

" Okay...go on..."

" Babe, I just want Baba T’s burial tomorrow to enter history. I’m talking premium casket, pall bearers with choreography, maybe even smoke machines if budget allows.”

She froze. “You dey whine me? What do you think Toyosi and I had been planning since?”

I grinned. “Seriously. The man deserves a proper sendoff. I don't want people to say we buried him like a sachet of pure water.”

She sighed dramatically. “Sure, but you know Toyosi and I are already making plans to make it big. But how much nonsense are we talking about?”

I smiled that smile she hates but secretly loves. “Not much. Just enough to make Queen Elizabeth jealous.”

“Fine. I'll handle it. I promise.....”

I kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you, I promise Shango will be so glad to have you as a daughter in-law...you are the best thing to ever happen to our family..."

She laughed lightly. “See this man. You and your mysterious way of thinking. Every time, you sound like a cult leader recruiting me.”

“Maybe I am,” I said “But this one’s for a good cause.”

She rolled her eyes but handed me the cup of juice she had just made. “Here. Drink before your mouth dries up from suspense.”

I took a sip — cold, sweet, and perfectly balanced. “You know, if you weren’t so good at causing trouble, you’d make a great bartender.”

She smirked. “Trouble pays better.”

We both laughed.

Then she leaned a little closer, her voice dropping just enough to make my heart misbehave.
“Okay, Mr. Man…it's time we have our first magical sex but that will be after tomorrow.”

“After the burial?” I asked.

She smiled, that playful look on her face. “Yes. Once Baba T rests in peace and we’re sure he’s sitting on God’s right hand—”

“Ahn ahn, what kind of condition is that? How are we supposed to confirm that?” I asked.

“That’s where your father comes in—your god of thunder. Let him check for us,” she said with a straight face.

“You’re lucky I like you. If not, I’d have told thunder to fire that your mouth right now,” I said.

Tiffany smiled wider. “Fire my mouth? Go ahead. Just make sure your thunder has health insurance.”

"You are not serious at all." I said and delivered a playful spank on her soft and nicely shaped bum bum. She laughed and asked me to do it again. I repeated it but slightly harder this time.

"Hmmm. That's better..." She said. "So, tomorrow, we finally cut our cake.”

I raised an Ancelotti kind of brow. “Cake?”

She bit her lip. “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned. “Ah, so we’re finally cutting that cake.”

“Cutting?” she laughed. “No, darling. We’re serving it hot. I’ve waited too long, and if we survive that burial tomorrow, I’m not waiting another night.”

I whistled softly. “You sound like a woman on a mission.”

She smiled, brushing past me slowly. “Call it divine motivation.”

I watched her walk away, hips doing a sermon of their own, and muttered,
“God, if this is temptation… I’m already a willing sinner.”

She turned her head, smirking. “Then pray for strength, Mr Man. Tomorrow, you’ll need it.”

I dropped a deep sigh. My plan is finally setting in. Phase one is done and dusted.

***

Kenny paced by the window, sweating like a cold bottle of water and biting his nails like groundnuts. I sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen for a moment before calling Chuka.

He picked up almost immediately.
“Why are you calling me? Can’t you just text like a normal human being?”

I sighed. “This one no be text matter.”

There was a pause, then a lazy, “Okay. Shoot.”

I glanced at Kenny— then spoke quietly.
“It’s Agama. The guy’s been on my neck for a long time."

" Who is this Agama, am I supposed to know him?" Chuka asked.

" He's one thug in our neighbourhood. Use to collect money and everything with force. "

"Okay...go on."

"I owe him seven hundred K… since three years ago. Now he’s threatening to make life miserable for me. I just want him to understand that I don’t answer to threats anymore — not when I have a whole empire behind me. I can’t pay him. And I won’t.”

The line went silent for a moment. Then came a small, knowing chuckle from Chuka’s end.

“Good,” he said finally. “Now you’re thinking like one of us.”

I frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you don’t need to pay him a single kobo after threatening you,” he said calmly. “Just listen carefully — whoever this Agama is, if he lives in this Lagos, he’s already heard a name that shakes the ground.”

I leaned forward. “Which name?”

“CK Mania.”

I repeated it under my breath. “CK… Mania?”

“Yes,” Chuka replied, voice low and sharp. “When you see him, just say that name. Don’t explain, don’t argue. Just drop it and walk away. He’ll get the message.”

“CK Mania?” I said again, still confused. “Who the hell is that?”

“Na your papa. Always asking foolish questions...Get out of my phone jor werey. ”

Then the line clicked.

Kenny turned to me, eyes wide. “So… what did he say?”

I pocketed the phone slowly, smirking.
“He said we don’t need to pay.”

Kenny blinked. “Ah! Just like that?”

“Yeah,” I said, standing up. “We just have to mention a name.”

Kenny frowned. “Which name?”

I smiled. “You'll know once we get there let's go.”

He stared at me, confused. “I trust you sha.”

I shrugged as we both stepped out of the house. It was around 3 p.m., just a day before Baba T’s burial. Tiffany and Toyosi — the sleeping beauty herself — had already gone out in one of the GLEs to finalize arrangements for the burial, like they’d been doing ever since the body was mysteriously cleared for collection.


****

The black GLE cut through the evening breeze, engine growling. Kenny sat stiff, staring out the window.

“You sure about this?” He asked.

“No. But fear won’t save us either,” I said, eyes fixed on the road.

We drove in silence, the car humming along as DJ Frankiz’s Best of 2000s Blues poured from the speakers — soft, nostalgic, and completely out of place for two men heading straight into trouble.

I drove the GLE into the compound and parked. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke and sweat. Men leaned on cars, their machetes glinting under the weak yellow bulbs. Beside me, Kenny was breathing hard, each breath shaky and uneven.

We had already settled on our next move. He wanted me to help him clear his debt with Agama, and I told him he had to help me deal with Detective Kalu first—only then would I “bring him into the Circle.” That was the story I sold him. The truth? I never planned to bring Kenny into the Circle at all. I can never do that, and even if I wanted to, it’s not possible. I only told him that so he would focus on helping me get this hound, Detective Kalu, off my back—at least until I can take my place on the iron throne of financial stability.

In simpler un-Game-of-thronic terms, I only need Kenny to help me push Detective Kalu away from my trail, at least until I hit the financial target I’m chasing with the Circle. After that, I’ll settle Kenny, give him atleast enough money, and that’s the end of it. He won’t get more than that. The whole talk about bringing him into the Circle was just sweet words. Truth is, I can never open that gate for him. That throne is for my Bran stark alone, and I'm not going to allow this Targaryen sit on it.

One of Agama’s boys disappeared inside to call him out. A few seconds later, he emerged.

Agama stepped forward — tall, broad, gold chain flashing on his chest like it had its own ego. Behind him came Saipon and Cobra, both grinning like hyenas that had just smelled free meat.

“So… the rats finally decided to crawl out,” Agama said, his baritone voice thick with mockery.
“Three years, and you think I’d forget my money?”
He jabbed a thick finger in my direction. “And you — bricklayer — you think I don’t remember you? You wey like to behave like one local commando, eh? If you don take one sachet of blackwood, mix am with super commando, you go dey form boss abi?”

He’s right. We’ve encountered each other at the construction site more than twice. Each time he comes to collect his illegal omo-onile fee, I always resist him a little. In the end, I only give him about ten percent of what he first demands.

“Agama, calm down—let’s talk,” Kenny pleaded, voice shaky.

Cobra cut in, cold. “Talk? No more talk. Today we finish this.”

Saipon smiled cruel. “Boss, you give the word. I cut them down.”

I stepped forward, keeping my voice steady though my heart was beating fast. “The debt is mine, not Kenny’s. But listen — I’m not paying you a kobo.”

They burst out laughing, ugly and loud.

“You think this is a joke?” Agama barked, jabbing a finger at me. “You walk into my yard and spit in my face? You must want to die.”

Cobra moved like he meant it. “Let me do him, boss. One shot and it’s over.”

I closed the distance, calm inside but forming dangerous outside. “If you touch me, you’ll regret it. I’m no longer the bricklayer you know.”

Saipon sneered. “Then who are you? Some yahoo boy with a nice car?”

I looked straight at Agama and dropped the name slow, like a hammer. “CK Mania.”

The laugh died. Silence hit the compound so hard you could hear the wind.

Saipon froze. Cobra’s grin fell away. Agama’s bravado cracked; his face went pale.

“Where did you hear that name?” Agama asked.

“You don't want to find out the hard way.” I replied.

Cobra glanced at Agama, nervous now. “Boss… if he knows that name, then—”

Agama’s eyes darted between his men and me. The swagger had left him. “You… you know CK Mania?”

“I don’t owe you explanations,” I said coldly. “You know what that name means. So listen: the debt is erased. You will not call me, you will not call Kenny, and you will not whisper my name again.”

The men looked at one another. Agama swallowed and lowered his head.

“We didn’t know. No yawa na,” he said, voice calm. “It’s done. No wahala.”

I straightened my jacket and didn’t relax. “Good. Remember this night. Next time you think of crossing me, think twice.”

Kenny and I slid back into the GLE. As the engine roared to life, I caught one last look in the mirror—Agama, Saipon, Cobra and the other guys standing still, fear written all over their faces.

********

That night, the streets were quiet.
Kalu moved through the back alleys like a ghost.
Black hoodie. A face cap that covered at least seventy percent of his face. He walked the roads with a fake limp.

He always changed his walk.
Sometimes like an old man.
Sometimes like a tired worker.
Tonight, he walked like both.

By the time he reached the ferry, the black water showed a reflection that didn’t look like him.

Close to midnight, he arrived at the small apartment he had rented for his wife and daughter.
Curtains drawn. The lights were off.

He knocked — two short, one long. Their secret code.

The door opened slowly.
Naomi stood there, half-asleep, her small hands rubbing her eyes.
But the moment she saw him, her face lit up like morning sun breaking through clouds.

“Daddy!” she whispered, her voice was soft but full of joy.
She ran into his arms like she’d been waiting forever.

Kalu dropped to his knees and held her close, burying his face in her shoulder.
She was warm. Real and safe.
For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

“My sunshine,” he said, his voice shaking just a little. “You’re growing too fast. Soon you won’t let me carry you.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Never,” she said. “You’re my superhero.”

He smiled — the kind of smile that tries to hide pain but doesn’t quite succeed.
His eyes were tired. His heart was heavy.
He kissed her forehead gently, then whispered to himself,
“Superheroes don’t wear disguises.”

But he was wearing one and she didn’t know why.
She didn’t know the kind of danger her father walked through just to hold her like this.
She didn’t know how many nights he stayed awake, watching shadows, listening for footsteps, praying no one ever found her and her mother.

To her, he was just Daddy.
To the world, he was a man with enemies.
But in that moment, all he wanted was to freeze time — to stay in her arms, to forget the war outside, to be just a father.

And deep down, he knew he couldn’t.
Atleast not yet.
Not while the Circle was still hunting.
Not while the game was still on.

Ohibenemma:
Great update, as usual. Eagerly anticipating the next. Keep it up @theblessedman

thanks brother man

Damilgodwin:
Haaaa, which one is for fast update 😁😁

Baba you don dae carry us under 4.5 oo,

Abi you be affiliated personnel ni, 😁

if you understand how frustrating it feels , after spending hours and days writing, but you still pray you don't get banned for posting for free on this platform, you'll know why I've decided to be posting on FB first. This Nairaland is not encouraging at all ahswear

Damilgodwin:
Your writings are heavenly

Your words arrangement are superior to ph.d owns

I just pray that Darous and Kenny combo no go spoil things 🤗🤗

see hyper flattering oooooo😂😂😂😂😂

Continuation of Episode 23.


He sat back on the bed and continued. “I lied to them that she robbed Baba T and ran away with the money meant for the debt clearance. I thought once they catch her, I’d find a way to settle it. But it all went wrong.”

"Hmmmm. So you sold Cynthia to them...well played..Continue...."

He looked down, voice cracking slightly.
“That night, when your people came to pick Cynthia, I realized something. Saipon and Cobra bowed when they saw your men step down from that Jeep. They even ordered Saipon and Cobra to make sure I don't leave that place alive—until Detective Kalu stepped in and saved me.”

"Really?....he saved you...."

He gave a short, bitter sigh.
“The detective promised to help me get revenge on you and also protect me if I help him bring your organisation down. But I don’t trust him. I don't know what he'll do to me once he's done using me. That’s why I'm coming clean with you. If anyone can stop Agama and his boys with one word, it’s you.”

He paused, voice dropping. “That’s why Baba T’s death pain me. The man tried for me when I had nothing. And I remember you that time too—you were just like me. But look at you now. You even rent G-Wagon of four hundred K for one day. Guy, I no go lie, I envy you small. This life don tire me.”

I sat beside him on the bed and thought about everything he said. His voice sounded honest, and that made me stop to really think.
For a moment, I wanted to tell Chuka about it so he could handle the situation, but then I changed my mind. I don’t know what they might do to Kenny.
If what he said about Saipon and Cobra is true, then it's possible the Circle wants him dead.
So it’s better I don’t tell him yet. I’ll handle this myself.

Then a brilliant idea from the ministry of thunder and lightning affairs popped into my mind. This might actually be a good thing. If the detective wants to play dirty, then we can both play this game.

Gently, I placed a hand on Kenny’s shoulder and told him he was forgiven. This was a new beginning — a chance to start over.
“Now listen,” I said. “If you really want me to trust you enough to bring you into what I do, you’ll have to prove yourself beyond every doubt. There are a few things you’ll need to do for me first.”

He smiled when he heard that, and we ended it with a warm embrace.
But deep down, I knew this wasn’t victory — this was that stage where the Super Eagles win their last match, and fans start bringing out calculators, checking “if Ghana draws and South Africa loses first half,” before we can qualify. That kind of dangerous hope that looks like peace but smells like problem.

To be continued. For faster updates, go to my Facebook account. @Adigun Idowu

EPISODE 23 — Thin Lines

If there’s ever a word to describe how I felt when Toyosi swapped that drink with Kenny, it would be panic—the kind that starts small in your chest and then spreads till your whole body feels hot and cold at the same time. You know that kind of tension that grips your whole soul when you’re holding a calculator like it’s a weapon, doing complex group stage mathematics—“if Ghana draws, and Egypt scores one in extra time, and the referee sneezes at the right minute, also running a background check on the goalkeeper to see if he hasn’t chopped any recent breakfast — maybe, just maybe, we can still qualify.
And you’re there asking yourself, why do these Super Eagles always wait till fans develop high blood pressure before they start playing like Barcelona?

Abeg, after surviving all the heartbreaks, postponed miracles, and last-minute goal disallowances from Super Eagles, I refuse to die because of Toyosi. She can try, but she’s not stronger than Nigeria’s football stress.

Then as I was still battling with thoughts in my mind, Toyosi reached for the wine bottle and poured herself another round like nothing had happened. Tiffany followed, though she barely filled her own glass, her face was calm but her eyes was back to her phone in no time.

Then we all sat down. I tried to smile, to keep things normal, but my mind wasn’t there anymore. My eyes still stayed on Toyosi, my heartbeat jumping between anger and fear.
I kept wondering why she was so obsessed with that cup. What if it had been poison instead of sleeping pills? What would’ve happened to her then? She would have Jesus-Christed herself for Kenny’s sake.

In simpler, un-biblical terms, she would’ve sacrificed her own life for Kenny. And for what exactly? For a useless infatuation over cups?

I tried to steady my breath.
"Calm down, Darous." I told myself. "Just stay calm and think." But no matter how I tried, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

A few minutes later, Toyosi began dozing off slowly on the couch.
I knew the pills well—take more than one and you'll be out cold in minutes.

I moved closer to where Toyosi was sitting, with a voice barely above a whisper.
“Toyosi,” I said softly. “You really messed up. That drink wasn’t meant for you. You this girl… what if it was poison I put inside it? Just what if?”

I muttered it under my breath. She could hardly hear me.
But her eyelids fluttered—slow and heavy.
Her voice came faint, like a bad radio signal.
“Tell that stubborn girl… to give her uncle the ledger… or she might regret it.”

My eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

She didn't reply.
Her head had already slumped on my shoulder, soft and warm.

She sighed—a strange sound, peaceful yet dangerous. Her body felt warm against mine. My eyes dropped, just for a second, to the rise and fall of her chest, the way her breasts moved with each slow breath. For a few seconds, I couldn’t look away before I quickly caught myself and turned aside before Tiffany caught me staring at her friend’s breast.

I glanced at Tiffany. She was still glued to her phone, smiling like someone who just finished dragging a Big Brother Naija fan on Tiktok.
I exhaled slowly. Thank God she didn’t see me.

Then my phone buzzed.
WhatsApp notification. Chuka.

Chuka: “You’ve left the hospital. That means you’re fine now. From Monday, new mission for you. This one can either make you or break you. Depends on how you play it.”

I read it twice and hissed in a low sound.
Who told these people that leaving the hospital automatically means one is fit for whatever nonsense mission they planned? I cursed under my breath.

What kind of mission again? And what did he mean by “make or break me”?

I dropped the phone on the center table, sighed, and looked up—
A dark figure stood in front of me.

It was Kenny. I didn’t even notice when he got up, but there he was—stretching his arms, yawning like someone who hadn’t slept in a week.

“I need to take a bath,” he said quietly.

“Please do,” Tiffany replied, still scrolling her phone. “Maybe it’ll wash off that tired look.”
Then she glanced at me. “Darous, why does Toyosi suddenly look like your baby?”

“She’s dozing off,” I said. “I don’t want her falling off the cushion, so I’ll carry her to her room.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “Of course you will. Our Mr Gentleman. Always rescuing damsels in distress.”

"Babe, don't tell me you are jealous." I returned the eyebrow gesture with an Ancelotti one.

She shook her head, laughing. “Just make sure she doesn’t wake up tomorrow calling you ‘Daddy Darous.’ ”

“Na you sabi,” I said, smiling. “Call it temporary bouncer duty.”

She chuckled. “Okay ooo, Mr Bouncer. Carry your madam.”

I ignored her teasing and lifted Toyosi gently into my arms. Tiffany walked ahead, leading the way.
Even with my bandaged hand, I held her steady. Somehow, she felt like my responsibility in that moment. But my eyes still betrayed me—slipping down to the open neckline of her dress, to the soft rise and fall of her moderately sized breast. I couldn’t help comparing their breasts at that moment, trying to see who had the bigger one and who had the smaller. But honestly, they looked almost the same size to me.

Toyosi’s room was calm and minimalistic. Moonlight poured through the window, spreading over the white sheets and gray walls. Paintings hung neatly, a fluffy rug cushioned our steps.

I laid her on the bed carefully and tucked her in. She murmured, turned, and sank into the pillow.

Tiffany leaned on the doorframe, grinning.
“Look at you, Mr Hero. Carrying sleeping beauties to bed now? Should I fetch your cape—or you’ll sing her a lullaby first before addressing the nation?”

I gave her a look. “ For someone this beautiful, you talk too much.”

She giggled. “Mr Bouncer, sing her something, joor.”

I ignored her and adjusted the duvet. That’s when Toyosi’s hand suddenly shot up, grabbed my collar—and before I could blink, her lips brushed mine.
It was soft and quick.
“I love you, CK,” she murmured, then drifted back to sleep.

I froze. My heart hammered hard.
When I turned, Tiffany was watching me—phone still in her hand with a smirk on her face. She obviously saw the kiss but didn't hear the words.

“Why do you look like that’s the first time a drunk person kissed you?” she asked with a smile.

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened again—nothing came out.

She stepped closer, eyes fixed on my lips.
“Let me show this drunken child how it’s done properly,” she whispered—and kissed me.

This one wasn’t soft. It was deep, hungry, teasing. My knees nearly gave way. My dick was already warming up inside my trousers.

Then she suddenly pulled back as my hand slid to her breast through her dress.
“Hmm..hmm..easy, tiger. You’re not fully healed yet, remember?” she teased.

“I’m covered by the blood of Jesus, so I’m fine,” I said, half joking, half begging, trying to convince her to continue. For days now, this girl has been nothing but a sweet, deliberate cock-teaser. Apart from that one night of oral madness at Mrs. Adeoye’s house, I haven’t gone anywhere near the inside of her pants since then. We’ll start something, and just when the tempo starts rising, she’ll pull back and say, “You need to be fully healed first… I want our first time to be magical.”
Magical my foot. At this point, I was beginning to suspect she was sent from the pit of temptation itself.

"Tiff, I'm healed I swear in the name of the god of thunder, I'm fine now. Nothing do my body..."

She smirked. “How do I know? I don’t want to be the reason you go back to the hospital, Mr Man. We still have enough time to make up for this long wait once you are fully healed...I promise.”

“You still don't believe I'm fine abi,” I said again, smiling faintly. “ Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

She laughed softly. “Not tonight, bobo. You know our first time—”

“Must be magical,” I cut in.

“Exactly.” She gave a playful salute. “Now be a good boy and go to your room.”

She kissed me lightly again and walked out, her hips swaying like she knew exactly the damage she’d done.
My dick was as hard as the Nigerian economy used to be in the early days of President Tinubu’s administration.

I looked at Toyosi again—deep asleep. I sighed, shut the door, and locked it from outside, slipping the key into my pocket. First part is done.
Kenny may have escaped my first trap, but he won’t escape the next one. Tonight, he’s not leaving that guest room till morning. I’ll lock him inside and go sleep in Tiffany’s room. The only problem now is how to get into that cock-teaser’s room. That girl can be stubborn for Africa. Her stubbornness was clearly imported straight from Pharaoh himself.

When I pushed open the guest-room door, Kenny was sitting on the bed, towel around his waist, phone in hand. He looked up.

“I need to talk to you,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “Even me sef. I wan tell you something important.”

“Okay…you first. What’s it about?” I asked, folding my arms.

He took a deep breath and dropped his phone beside him.
“Darous, I know you still don’t fully trust me,” he began, calm but heavy. “And I also know you put something inside my drink earlier.”

I wanted to deny it, but I quickly figured there's no point? So I waved it off.
“Yeah, I did. But it wasn’t to hurt you. It was for the girls’ safety. I still don’t know what’s going on in your head, so I’d be stupid not to take precautions.”
I paused, trying to steady my breathing. “I saw you silence a call earlier, Kenny. That’s why I acted. And for the record, it was just a sleeping pill. Nothing more.”

He stayed quiet for some seconds. The silence felt thick.

“I understand,” he said finally. “But for you to know that I’m truly a changed man, I need to tell you something. Something important.”

“Go ahead,” I said, bracing myself. The last thing I needed was another mess added to my list. I still don't know what the Circle has in store for me on Monday.

Kenny sat up straighter, his face now very serious.
“Darous,” he said quietly. “Please guy, no vex...no vex, but I lied to you earlier. I didn’t have any accident that night.”

My arms dropped. “What do you mean you lied?”

He rubbed his head, like someone feeling ashamed. “I was arrested, bro. That same night.”

I blinked. “Arrested? By who? What did you do again? Did you kill Cynthia?”

He looked up, tired. “Nooo. I told you I didn’t get her. That part is true. But a detective saved me that night—Saipon and Cobra were about to finish me if not for that man.”

"You mean the same Saipon and Cobra that followed you to beat me to stupor? They turned on you?" I said those words and didn't know if I should laugh or be angry.

"Yes. Yes..the people that picked Cynthia gave them the order to kill me right there but that Detective, saved me..."

A chill ran through me when he mentioned the word 'detective' again. The only detective I know is Detective Kalu, so. I prayed he's not the one. “Wait… what’s the detective’s name?”

“Erm… Detective Kalu or something.”

My heartbeat jumped. “Detective Kalu?...”

He nodded. “Yes. He was waiting for Cynthia that night, not me. He somehow knew something was going down. He picked me up and took me to the station. I’ve been in a cell since then.”

I stepped back, shocked. “You’ve been locked up for a week? But you said you were home resting!”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But listen, I didn’t have a choice.”

There was a brief silence before I spoke again.
“So how did you get out?”

He sighed. “The detective offered me a deal. Said he’d release me if I helped him.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Help him do what exactly?”

He hesitated. “To study you. Watch your moves… and everything about the organisation you work for.”

My whole body went cold.
I didn’t move. Just staring at him.

He continued quietly, “He said you’re working for something bigger than you understand. That they control you. He wanted me to get proof—to help him catch all of you.”

My mind flashed back to the hospital— summary of Detective Kalu’s words echoing in my mind:
‘I know who you are, Darous. I know what you do. I know the people that own you.’
I’d waved it off back then as one of his usual mind games. But now… everything suddenly made sense.
He’d been watching me long before that day.
Anger didn’t even knock — it ordered Uber straight to my chest and landed right in my fist. I felt betrayed instantly.

“So beating me up wasn’t enough,” I muttered bitterly, “now you want to—”
“Darous, please,” Kenny cut in. “I’m not proud of it. That’s why I’m confessing. I couldn’t keep lying to you. I need your forgiveness.”

He stood slowly, towel still tied. “I know how much you’ve suffered. I swear I never meant to betray you. The torture in that cell… the beatings… I just broke. I thought helping him was the only way out.”

I didn’t speak. My head was spinning.

He went on, voice trembling. “I see the way those girls trust you. The way they love you. I envy that. I want to be better. I want to fix my life. Especially because of Baba T. I can’t forgive myself for how I handled his death. Maybe this is how I start to atone for my sins.”

I weighed his words carefully for a brief moment and decide to not make hasty decisions until I get the full picture of what's really at play here.

“Tell me exactly what he wants from me." I finally spoke. " What does he know?”

Kenny swallowed. “He knows you work for a big organisation. That they control everything you do. He didn’t say how much he knows, but he sounded very sure.”

The air turned heavy. Even the walls felt like they were listening.

“How exactly did he want you to spy on me?” I asked.

“He said he’s been on that organisation's case for over ten years.”

“Ten years?” I frowned. “That’s deep.”

“Yeah,” he said. “He told me they mostly use WhatsApp coded links for operations.”

I scoffed. “WhatsApp? Really?”

“I’m just saying what he said. He told me to watch you closely—especially when you’re on your phone.”

“Watch me…”

He nodded slowly. “And if I notice anything strange, I should report.”

I chuckled bitterly. “Wow. That's deep.”

“He just wants me to find out the person who messages you for that job stuff. Like the intermediary between you and that organisation.”

“So basically, he wants you to sell me out,” I said flatly.

Kenny bit his lip, then looked away. “It’s not like that. I just… I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

"Hmmmm...." I sighed deeply. Worry and anxiety taking a vip seat in my body right there.

“Wait first,” I said. “How are you even sure I work for any organization?”

He gave me that suspicious look, then let out a small scoff.
“Guy, abeg, I know you. All those secret codes you and Jude used to drop at the bar—who una dey deceive? And that our girl... what’s her name again... hmm... Bola, abi?”

" Bola?" I squinted.

" Yes...Bola...I know she changed your life. She carry you enter that gang. Abeg, no need to pretend.”

He said it with so much confidence. There was no need to argue. I just stood there quietly.

I smiled faintly. “So why tell me now? What changed?”
Kenny looked at me for a long while before speaking. His voice dropped low, like he was afraid the walls could hear him.

“Darous, you know who they call Agama abi?”

I frowned. “Who doesn’t know Agama?"

That Agama is bad news. Every building contractor in Lagos knows his name. He used to raid construction sites, collecting illegal levies like some self-appointed king of the streets. A dangerous man through and through. They said he earned the name “Agama” as a kid because he was obsessed with hunting lizards—he’d never see one on the wall without picking up a stone to strike it.

"The same Agama of Lagos?" I added.

Kenny nodded slowly.
“Saipon and Cobra, they’re his boys.”

"Okay... I know , but what exactly are you driving at?”

“Three years ago, my little boy fell sick,” Kenny said, voice shaky. “My baby mama was calling me every minute. The hospital needed about five hundred thousand naira for treatment. I didn’t have it, Darous. You know how things were for me that time.”
He paused, rubbing his hands together like he was washing away guilt that refused to leave.

“I tried all the loan apps, but you know na, I dey owe more than fourty apps gbese wey I never pay. My BVN no fit borrow money for pure water sef. So I now went to Agama for help. I used all my aluminium fabricator machines as collateral. I thought I'll be able to pay back quick, but things got worse. I couldn’t meet up, and Agama came and carried everything—machines worth more than three hundred thousand naira.”

I stared at him. “Wait… that time? When you said you were robbed? You didn’t tell us you collected money from Agama.”

Kenny sighed. “I couldn’t, Darous. I knew you’d never support it. You’d have dragged me away from the deal. But after Agama took the machines, he added another five hundred thousand naira as interest. That’s how the debt grew.”

He leaned back, eyes cloudy with regret.
“Baba T was the only one who knew. He’s been helping me pay it small small, from whatever he could save. But now that he’s gone, everything fell back on me. Agama’s boys—Saipon and Cobra—came for me that night that Baba T died. They said I must complete the payment or pay with my blood.”

I swallowed hard, watching his face darken.

“That’s why they were after Cynthia that night,”

"What does Cynthia got to do with this?" I said, feeling confused.

Damilgodwin:
Boss this constantly freshing of page self don tire person ooo

I go report you give the gods of thunder ooo

You no wan deliver your polling unit ni😁😁

no vex boss. Remain shinkini

@ Adigun Idowu. That's my Facebook name.

Below is the profile picture.

Damilgodwin:
Abeg hunger don dae hammer person oo,

You never cook finish ni

remain small boss. But it's dropping on my Facebook first. Then back here and that's if they no ban am

dawno2008:
Wetin dey sup nau😕this area just quiet since ooo😳wetin dey happen nau😰
TBM baba,how your end and how god of thunder dey do for younder😂 I dey miss you oooo,game nor gree enter,and you too nor gree drop update,come be like say my frenemies just gang up to betray me😂😂😂😂

Abeg,come quick oo,abi na Nairaland bot again ni? Cos the thunder ⚡ wey I go take strike the mods dey do press up now😤

Baba I abeg come give me my fix jawe🤕

I dey kitchen. I dey cook am... 😄😄😄

dawno2008:
All this Aje buredi shilduren sef😏, anyways her eyes go tell her what's up 😂

Now the game has begun,full betrayal mode maximally activated 🤓,and Kenny like a wounded lion,will not hold back,just see his Judas Iscariot approach,this life sef🤔 but Darous didn't really do badly lying to the girls,cos how do you explain,that your friend beat and leave you for death😕,sha he needs to find a way to tell "sweetheart" Tiffany,cos I no wan hear story that touch ooo😂😂😂
Bless you TBM the true son of God of thunder ⚡ ⛈️

Toyosi fvcked up o. Ahswear😂😂😂

Continuation of episode 22.


After the noise died down, Toyosi said, “Abeg, make we cook. This kind celebration deserve small jollof and fried chicken.”

Tiffany snapped her fingers. “Chef mode activated. Kenny what are you taking? Your friend is still on custard diet...”

Kenny grinned, rubbing his belly. “Anything that’s not that fancy bread Mrs. Adeoye served us that morning—what’s it called again? Croissinant?"

"Croissant!" Tiffany shouted.

" Oh... Abeg, that thing tastes like puff-puff that dropped out of school.”

The girls laughed again.
“Croissant look like puff-puff? Kenny, behave!” Toyosi added. "It's like you have a big personal vendetta with civilisation." She chuckled.

He stood up and started mimicking a British accent. “Good morning, dear. Here’s your breakfast — two croissant and a glass of disappointment!”

Even I laughed hard this time. His acting was too good.

For a second, I saw my old friend — the Kenny I used to know before all the madness.

But somewhere inside me, a small voice — that voice — whispered:
“Don’t lose guard. Snakes can smile too.”

Dinner came and went. We ate, laughed, teased one another, and for a brief moment, all the tension in the air faded away. But just as I was beginning to relax, I noticed Kenny glance at his phone—and quickly silence an incoming call.

He tried to make it look casual, but I caught it.

My heartbeat skipped.
Who could be calling him at this hour? And why would he ignore it so fast?
Something wasn’t right.

Maybe it wasn’t just a random call. Maybe Saipon and Cobra had already infiltrated the estate—waiting quietly for his signal to move.

He pressed the phone against his thigh and hit “decline.” His eyes flicked up — just briefly — to check if anyone saw. I pretended I didn’t.

My whole body went stiff. The god of thunder spoke in my head, firm and direct:
“Tell the girls the truth about him now. Let them know what’s going on before something bad happens.”

He was right — but I still wanted to give Kenny one last chance, for old time’s sake. I would eventually tell the girls the truth, but before that, I needed to be sure. I had to know if he had truly changed… or if he was still hiding something dark behind that calm face.

If I told Tiffany now, she’d call the police and Kenny would end up in jail. I don’t want that — people deserve a second chance. But if he’s only pretending, I can’t wait.

So I needed a plan: calm, safe, and fast. I stayed at the table, laughed with them, played along — all the while my head was working, quietly mapping the next move.

After a few minutes an idea popped into my head. I smiled to myself, as I run it over once more. It felt right. Very perfect.

I excused myself quietly and went into the guest room. My hospital bag was still there. I opened it and found the small bottle of tablets the doctor gave me — painkillers mixed with sleeping pills.

Three pills left.

One of these little pills use to knock me out for eight hours. The plan was simple. Slip two pills into his drinks, so he sleeps through the night. By morning everyone would be awake, there’d be less chance for him to hurt anyone by then, and before he even stays too long, I'll find a way to get him to his house even if he’s still half-asleep. And when I come back, I'll find a way to tell the girls and beg them not to involve the police. But we'd all be watching him cautiously.

Risky right? I know, but it felt like the safest move I had at that time.

So I took two pills to the kitchen, then crushed them inside the small kitchen mortar.

I washed my hands, then grabbed a tray, three matching glass cups, a fourth one that looked slightly different, and a bottle of red wine from the counter. I poured the crushed pills into the odd cup and topped it up with wine. I filled the other three cups as well. Standing in the kitchen, I ran through the plan again, practicing how I'd hand each person their drink so I wouldn't mix up the one that had the pills.

When I walked back into the living room, tray with glass cups filled with wine in hand, the laughter had returned.

Toyosi was telling Kenny how the mortuary attendant asked for “urgent logistics” before allowing us to see Baba T’s body.

“Imagine!” she said. “The man even winked at Tiffany like she’s supposed to bribe him with style!”

Tiffany threw a pillow at her. “You’re mad!”

Kenny laughed. “Na why Nigeria no fit change. Even ghost dey pay rent for cold room!”

They laughed again. The room was warm, alive, full of small joys sitting on top of big fear.

I placed the tray on the table. “Abeg, before una talk tire — let’s make a toast to Baba T.”

They all went quiet for a moment.

Kenny nodded slowly. “Yes… to Baba T.”

I gave them each a glass. I made sure the identical cups gets to Toyosi, Tiffany and me. While the one with the slight difference - the marked one — got to Kenny.

“Now, ladies first,” I said, trying to sound serious.

Tiffany lifted her glass with a playful smile. “To the man who made us laugh so hard we started seeing our periods.” Everyone smiled at that.

Toyosi raised her glass. “To the man who never cared what was on the table — as long as it's eatable. Baba T. May his soul finally rest in peace.”

I nodded and lifted mine too. “To the man who proved that even in the middle of chaos, loyalty still matters. He took the fall for us… that’s the kind of man I’ll always call a brother.”

Kenny was quiet for a while, staring at his drink before he finally spoke. His voice shook. “To the only man who stood by me through thick and thin… the same man I couldn’t save. Baba T, if you can hear me… I’m sorry.”
The room went still. Even the air felt heavy.

"To Baba T." I said and everyone chorused: "To Baba T."

We all touched glasses together.

Clink. Clink Clink Clink.

Tiffany was the first to drink fully. “Mmm. This wine is always good!”

I smiled, but my eyes were fixed on Kenny as I placed my glass at the doors of my mouth.
He lifted his glass halfway to his lips about to sip, almost sip, quarter to sip, one and a half quarter to sip, then—

“Wait!” Toyosi shouted suddenly.

Everyone froze.

Kenny blinked. “What?”

She pointed. “That’s my favourite cup!”

“What?” Kenny said, confusion written clearly on his face.

“That cup you’re holding. Its my favourite cup. I’ve used it every time we’ve drunk wine in this house.”

"Abi you are mad ni? Abi ko fe daaa fun e ni? Just because of one cup? Abi aiye n shey eleyi ni?" I wanted to say that to Toyosi at that moment but the words dare not come out.

I felt my heart stop.

Kenny looked at her, then looked at the cup again For one second, I thought he would just drink it to spite Toyosi but he just stared at it with confusion on his face, probably trying to see what's so special about the cup.

I quickly force a weak smile. “Toyosi, leave it now. It’s just a cup.”

But Toyosi was already stretching her hand out. “Kenny, abeg, let’s exchange. You don’t know how much I love that cup.”

Kenny gave a small laugh. “Ah, see this girl o. Is it cup you’re marrying or the wine inside?”

Tiffany giggled. “Kenny, just give it to her before she starts crying.”

Kenny shrugged, still smiling that old, mischievous smile. “Fine, fine. Here—take it before you curse me with heartbreak.”

He handed her the glass.

Toyosi grinned, raised it like a champion, and before I could even breathe, she gulped the entire wine down in one go.

Then I heard a voice in my head that says : "so pe o ti lor."

I dropped to the chair immediately.

To be continued.

Episode 21 is on my Facebook page. @Darousmart Library. All updates will first be dropping on that account before coming here to test the patience of the anti spam.





Episode 22 - Eyes Behind The Scene.

Kenny was sitting by the estate gate that evening, on the small cement block beside the security post, when we drove in from the morgue.

Tiffany was driving, while Toyosi sat at the back, glued to her phone, giving us live updates about the Big Brother Naija 2025 finale — who just got evicted, who was still in the house, and all the drama happening on the show. I sat in front, tired and quiet, watching as the estate gate slowly opened.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

Kenny.

He looked rough — beards overgrown, eyes red like someone who hadn’t slept properly in days. He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, sitting quietly like he’d been waiting there for hours.

I quickly looked away and pretended not to see him. I fixed my gaze on my phone like I was reading something deep and important. The last thing I wanted was Tiffany noticing the man who nearly beat me to death two weeks ago.

But Toyosi’s eyes are too sharp for this world. From the backseat, she leaned forward and squinted.
“Wait… that looks like Kenny,” she said.

My heart skipped a million beats at that moment.

Tiffany slowed the car a little. “Kenny who?” She asked.

“Darous friend now,” Toyosi said, already tapping Tiffany's shoulder. “Stop jare, let’s talk to him.”

Before I could even say anything, Tiffany had already hit the brakes and pulled over near the gate.

I was feeling agitated at that moment.
How did Kenny even find this place?

I still remember the half-truth I told Tiffany and Toyosi — that the whole hospital thing happened because some people mistook us for a rival gang. So if Kenny is here now to apologize… or to continue what he started, Tiffany would definitely hate me for lying to her. I mean, this was the same girl who almost broke up with me when she found out I had rented a G-Wagon to impress people at a party. If she discovers I’ve done something worse, I can’t even imagine her reaction.

That thought alone sent shivers down my spine. As we stepped out of the car, I hesitated, standing beside the GLE like a lost tourist. My ribs began to ache again. This was the same guy — the one who had come with Saipon and Cobra to beat me to stupor right inside my own house.

If Jude hadn’t come for me that night, I’d probably be long gone — lying beside Baba T in one of those cold drawers at the morgue.

And now, here he was, sitting right in front of me — looking like a man who had been to hell and back.

Our eyes met.
He stood slowly, his voice low and shaky. “Darous… I’m sorry.”

Tiffany and Toyosi turned to me immediately, their faces puzzled.

Before Kenny could say another word that might expose me, I moved quickly — stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug.

To the girls, it looked emotional. To me, it was tactics.

With my lips close to his ear, I whispered sharply, “Don’t say anything now. If Tiffany finds out you’re the one that beat me up, kirikiri will be the next place you spend your entire life. Just act normal.”

He froze for a second, then gave a small grunt that meant he understood.

We stayed like that a few seconds longer — two men pretending to share brotherly forgiveness, when in truth, we were just hiding a dangerous secret inside a hug.

I looked closely at Kenny, still trying to understand why he suddenly showed up. His face looked thinner, his eyes dull, and one cheek was swollen. But there was something deeper in his eyes — something heavy — maybe regret, maybe guilt, or a bit of both.

I cleared my throat. “Kenny, how did you even find this place? I’ve been trying to reach you since I got discharged from the hospital.”

He adjusted his hoodie and looked down. “Toyosi told us at the party. That night after the incident. And I've been to this area before. Mr Akande Estate.”

I looked back at the girls immediately. They both nodded like backup singers.

Toyosi said, “Oh yes! We actually did mention it that night, remember?"

" Where was I?" I asked with a squinted face.

"When you left to meet Mrs. Adeoye, our gist somehow entered that area.”

Tiffany added with a shrug, “Exactly. It’s not like it’s a secret location. What’s the big deal?”

My heartbeat started to slow down a bit. Maybe I was just overthinking things.

Still, I decided to end the conversation before Kenny will say one wrong thing that will get me in trouble with Tiffany.

“Alright,” I said, forcing a small smile. “It’s late already. You should probably start heading home. We’ll talk properly tomorrow.”

But before Kenny could even move, Toyosi frowned. “Go where by this time of the night? Are you even serious right now?”

I blinked. “No, I just meant—”

She cut me off. “Nonsense. Are you not the only one sleeping on that big bed? The two of you can manage it for tonight. Tomorrow he can go. Or is he not your friend?”

I opened my mouth to object, but Tiffany jumped in, folding her arms with that her bossy confidence.

“Exactly,” she said. “And don’t even start with excuses, Mister Recovery. You men always claim brotherhood — ‘we die here,’ ‘guys look out for each other’ — now one of your own shows up and you want to send him home by this time? Abeg rest.”

“Babe, that’s not what I—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, waving her hand. “I don’t want to hear grammar. He’s following us home. End of discussion.”

Her voice had that final tone that brooked no argument — the kind that could silence even a crying child.

I kept thinking, this might be my last night on earth.

These girls don't understand. They don't even know it's this same man that came with two thugs to beat the life out of me.
They don't even know I still wake up sometimes hearing those punches echoing in my head.

But as I looked at Kenny, he didn’t look dangerous. He looked broken. Hungry. His shoulders sagged like life had pressed him down too hard.

Maybe he was really sorry. Maybe he’d moved on from everything that happened. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

I was still wrestling with my thoughts when Toyosi, tired of my silence, opened the back door and called out, “Kenny, oya enter jare before this security man starts acting funny now.”

He hesitated, glancing at me as if asking permission. I nodded stiffly, forcing a half-smile that felt like swallowing gravel.

Tiffany, already in the driver’s seat, leaned out and snapped, “Babe, stop standing there like a lost goat. Get in the car and let's go na.. I can't miss the rest of the eviction show.”

She said it with that sarcastic sweetness that only she could pull off — half caring, half commanding.

So like a sheep, I obeyed.

Kenny climbed in quietly beside Toyosi. I got back into the front seat, heart pounding so hard I could almost hear it echoing in my ears.

As Tiffany drove us through the estate road, I stared out the window, pretending to admire the streetlights, but deep down inside me, it was a battle of thoughts.
My thoughts were running faster than the car itself.

What if tonight… I don’t wake up tomorrow?
What if Kenny was here to finish what he started?
What if he still blamed me for Cynthia's escape?
What if this was a setup — a calm smile hiding a knife behind the back?

I swallowed hard and stared through the window again.

In my mind, I called on the god of thunder like I always do whenever I’m confused.
“Please, show me what to do.”
And the voice in my head replied,
“Talk to him alone, but don’t go empty-handed. No lose guard.”

“Darous, your friend is too quiet o,” Toyosi said suddenly from the back, cutting through my thoughts. “You sure this is the same Kenny we know?”

Kenny gave a small laugh that sounded like someone forcing air through pain.
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said politely.

Tiffany gave him a side glance from the driver’s seat.

“You sure? You look like you’ve been fighting demons,” she said in her usual sarcastic tone. “Anyway, sorry for the loss of your friend. Darous told us everything.”

My heart almost stopped when she said that. I didn’t want Kenny to get the wrong idea or say something he shouldn’t, so I quickly cut in.

“Yes, Kenny,” I said fast. “I had to explain to them how those cult guys mistook us for a rival gang and attacked us at the bar. Those bastards killed Baba T…” I forced a shaky sigh, pretending to sob a little.

Kenny stayed quiet.

“Anyway,” I continued, “we’ll bury him the day after tomorrow. His body’s already cleared at the morgue. At least he’ll get the burial he deserves.”

Kenny finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “No one deserves a burial at that young age… but life happens.”

I just nodded slowly, saying nothing more.

When we got to the house, Tiffany parked in front of the gate and turned off the ignition.
The compound light came on automatically..

We entered the house, and everywhere felt cold. Tiffany quickly turned on the heater.

Toyosi went to the fridge, grabbed a drink and said,
“TV on — Big Brother Naija, live eviction show!”

The voice command worked at once, and the TV came on. Ebuka's voice filled the sitting room. His usual calm mixed with tension.
The crowd noise from the show washed over everything else, echoing through the house like we were right there in the arena.

“Ah! Imisi is still in the house!” Toyosi shouted,. “Nobody should talk to me o!”

Tiffany laughed, kicking off her heels.
The two of them sat on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.
I saw that as a perfect distraction.

I strolled quietly into the kitchen, opened the drawer, and picked the sharpest knife I could find.
I tucked it carefully into my jeans pocket.

When I came out, Kenny was sitting on the sofa closest to the door.
I tapped his shoulder gently.

“Let’s talk outside,” I said.

He nodded without argument.

The night breeze hit us as we stepped out.
It was cold and quiet — the kind of silence that makes you hear your own heartbeat.

For a few seconds, we both stood still, facing the darkness.

Then suddenly, I swung my right hand — the one without the bandage — and landed a heavy slap across his face. He froze on the spot, shock written all over his already swollen face. Before he could even blink or process what just happened, I gave him another one for good measure. The sound echoed through the air. Then I took a deep breath and calmed myself a bit.

“That’s for the beating you gave me that night,” I said, straightening my shoulders, ready in case he tried to fight back. But he didn’t move. He knew better — even with one hand, I could still handle him.

He just let out a deep sigh, and then a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I deserve it and more.." He muttered with his gaze fix on the floor.

“Now tell me Kenny,” I said quietly, “why are you really here? Forget that fake apology bulls*hit you gave earlier… tell me the real reason you’re here. If you don't want another slap on that treacherous face of yours.”

He didn’t answer immediately. His hands were still on the affected cheek, his head slightly bowed.

“I didn’t come to fight you Darous or to cause problems for you again,” he said finally, voice low. “I came to talk.”

“Talk?” I scoffed. “You almost killed me, Kenny. You and your boys beat me like a thief in my own house. You left me bleeding and half-dead. What’s there to talk about? What's stopping me from finishing you right now? Eh? What's stopping me from beating your a*ss right now! Tell me!”

He rubbed his face, sighed deeply.
“I didn’t plan for it to go that way. I swear. I just lost control. I tried to stop, but everything happened so fast. I don’t even know what came over me Darous.... .”

He looked up at me, eyes tired, like someone carrying too much guilt and pains.

“I lost Baba T, Darous… after already losing my twin. Do you even know what that feels like? To lose the person who shared your blood… and then years later, lose the only friend that ever filled that empty space? You think it’s easy for me to go through that again?”

I looked at him silently for a moment. My right hand brushed the knife in my pocket — just in case.

“Where’s Cynthia?” I asked finally.

His face tightened, and he went quiet for a few seconds, like he was trying to gather the right words.
“I didn’t get her that night,” he said at last. “I almost did… but some people reached her first. They pushed her into a car and sped off before I could even blink. I ran after them, but they were gone before I got close.”

“So you didn’t get Cynthia, huh? I bet you went back to my house to finish me off,” I said, trying to hide the small relief I felt knowing he didn’t catch Cynthia that night.
He just rubbed his arm again, looking uneasy.

“No, I didn't, but on my way home, our bike had an accident. I was thrown off. Look.”

He lifted his shirt a bit — there were dark scars running across his back and shoulder. Even his face was kind of swollen.

“I’ve been indoors since then. Healing. Thinking about everything.”
He paused for a moment, then said quietly, “I went to your house a few times, but you weren’t there. I figured you were with Tiffany. That’s why I came here. I wanted to call, but I lost my phone in the accident.”

“Hmmm… you know Jude had to leave town, right? He was scared of what you might do to him,” I said, watching his face.

“Jude isn’t in Lagos?” Kenny asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh, you expect him to stay around so you can finish him off? ,” I said, almost raising my voice. “He saw with his own eyes how mad you can get when a wire sparks in your brain.”

Kenny let out a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the floor. He looked like a man trying so hard to choose his words carefully.

“I’m just… sorry for everything, Darous,” he said finally, his voice low. “Tell Jude he can come back. I don’t hate him—or anyone—anymore. I swear on my father’s grave.”

"I didn’t reply.
He took a deep breath, voice trembling now.

“Bro, I’m really really sorry. I’m truly sorry. I swear on everything I know. I didn’t want any of this. I’ve not slept in peace since that night. Every time I close my eyes, I see Baba T’s face, telling me I dishonour his memory. I just want peace. I want us back to normal. I miss you guys. My life has fallen apart since Baba T. You and Jude are the only ones I know as my brothers. Please forgive me and give me a second chance. I swear I'll use this second chance to make up for the pains I caused you... I'm so sorry....”
He dropped to his knees suddenly.
“Please forgive me. I beg you.”

His voice cracked, tears sliding down his cheeks. The sound was too raw to be faked.

But I still didn’t trust it.
Snakes shed their skin, not their nature.

“Wait—answer me first,” I said, my voice low but firm. “Do you still think it was wrong of me to help Cynthia escape?”

He didn’t lift his head immediately. Still on his knees, he sighed deeply. “No, bro. I swear, I don’t blame you anymore,” he said. “If there’s anyone who deserves the blame for her escape, it’s me. If I hadn’t been so blinded by vengeance, maybe she’d be in a cell right now instead of out there. I let my anger ruin everything.”

His voice was calm, heavy with guilt — the kind that makes it hard to doubt his sincerity.

I stood over him quietly, the night wind whistling past us. My fingers never left the knife handle.
Then, after a long pause, I forced a small smile, bent down, and helped him up.

“It’s okay, Kenny,” I said slowly. “Let’s put the past behind us. Maybe this is how we start again.”

He nodded, wiping his tears.

And right there under the balcony light, I hugged him —
but my right hand stayed firm on the knife in my pocket.

The moment we stepped back inside, the living room exploded with screams.

“Ahhhhhh! Imisi don win! She don win ooo!” Toyosi screamed, jumping on the couch like a crazy fan.

Tiffany threw her wrapper in the air and hugged her from behind. “I told you she’d win! I told you! My girl no dey disappoint!”

I just stood by the door, weak smile on my face. The TV was loud, Ebuka still shouting something about “the winner of Big Brother Naija, Season Finale…” and confetti flying everywhere on the screen.

Toyosi was already dancing. “Imisi for president joor! That girl carry grace!”

I wanted to laugh, but my head was heavy with thoughts.

Tiffany turned and saw me standing there like a statue. Her face softened. “Come here my sweet boy.”

Before I could even blink, she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her lips hard on mine — deep and hot. My head went blank for a few seconds.

.“If not because you’re not feeling too well,” she said with that wicked smile, “I would’ve celebrated this win in a proper couple’s style.” She winked at me in a seductive way that made my dick twitch in my pants.

Her cleavage was still right there in my face, taunting me like sin itself. I swallowed hard and tried to act like a gentleman.

For a moment, it felt… normal. Like the old days.

drewbar:
We no get choice nah, make we head to Facebook.

But abeg, come back here after all the bans have expired.

sure thing.

Episode 21 is already on my Facebook page. @Adigun Idowu.

Damilgodwin:
Our amiable son of thunder, wae the gods carry G/G against Kenny and his squad 😁😁😁😁.

Abeg no let the fun and energy dies down ooo. We are rooting for you

Team TBM💯💯🎉🎉✅

no be my fault o. Been trying to update the next episode for the past 2 days but the useless anti-bam wey Ogun wan killlll just dey place ban on me like say I be illegal product.

As shown in the pictures below, I reposted the episode after censoring most of the words I suspected were triggering the issue. However, the anti-spam system still banned it. This is like the fourth time.
So here's what we'll do:

I'm taking my story off Nairaland.

You can follow or connect with me on Facebook — search for Adigun Idowu.

Below is my profile picture to help you identify me.

Feel free to follow or send a friend request. I’ll be continuing the story on Facebook.

Gracias!

Maybe we should all bombard the mods with messages o. I've sent Divepen1 a complaint since yesterday and I'm yet to receive a single word in response. I hate this stalling

yuno01:
Why will they do that? What rule did you break to warrant the ban?

Or na just random spraying of ban like a stolen air freshener

I don't know jare. The thing just tire person

As you can see? I was banned

I've been trying to update the next episode but the anti spam bot has banned it more than two times.

Don't know what next to do . I did not even use any derogatory word in it. Just the normal style but I don't know what next to do

pFolar:
Wetin j wan talk wet others never talk. Tiffany is my best character so far. The way her character makes me laugh and giggle at times makes me wonder how this TBM does it. Ride on man. You da bomb 💣

I'm humbled my sister 😂

drewbar:
I am still suspecting the beautiful Tiffany. Lady with too much steeze.

Detective Kalu should take it easy with Darious ooh.

We are waiting for page 8.

we all waiting o. I no even suppose to dey follow you pursue page 8. But I just want to get this story over with before anything else comes to affect my plans.

dawno2008:
TBM himself, seriously I need to be kidnapped by Tiffany's kind of gal😍😍😍

Jude needs new environment for fresh breath,and make detective Kalu be calming down jor😔make Darous sef make some doe before the circle take down😂

In chucks voice😂😂😂
"Drop another update now,no questions asked"😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
TBM Weldon, keep it coming baba

next episode only drops in the next page o. As per agreement... 😂😂😂

Ohibenemma:
Wow! That's all I can say. This has all the shades of a well-cooked action movie. Waiting awhile before reading was quite worth it.

TheBlessedMan, keep it up.

And I echo the thoughts of previous commenters that you've become so much better at this over time. Those days with COUNTLESS felt like children playing around aimlessly, compared to this. I remember giving up on the story at some point as I couldn't just make any sense of it...

BUT THIS?

let's just call it THE BOMB!

😂😂😂😂 Writing Countless was like a virgin getting pvssy for the first time. Can't really know how to handle it properly. The idea was there, the zeal was there, because I typed 90percent of it with a button phone.. (Nokia 2700).

But now, we don learn our lessons. Grown better. 7years is enough time to develop into a better writer. I'm just glad I still find the zeal to write again

Welcome on board boss.

yuno01:
Finally, I have caught up with the story.

God bless you the blessed man.

I have always been an harden follower and this script is you been you.

Amazing and great with writing. And thank you for finding time out of this busy Tinubu regime ro put this masterpiece into writing.



We will now follow bumper to bumper from here

Welcome on board my bro. Thank you for renewing your subscription into the thunder planet.

Let's do justice to this story. I'm counting on you my bro

manuelFORBES:
Wow… just wow. I don’t even know where to start.

TheBlessedMan, you are different. You didn’t just write a story — you built a world. A world that feels so real, so haunting, so unpredictable that each new episode feels like stepping into another layer of madness and beauty combined. The twists… the turns… the silence between moments that suddenly explode into chaos — everything about this story screams genius.

From the first episode, I thought I had a grip on what was happening — but every time I thought I understood, you flipped the entire table on me. The suspense, the mystery, the subtle emotional undertones… I’ve laughed, been scared, almost cried, and even paused just to breathe and take in what I’d just read.

And then there’s Tiffany. My goodness. That character is art. She’s not just written — she’s felt. The way she carries mystery in her silence, danger in her charm, and a strange softness under all that cold brilliance… I don’t even know how you managed to balance that. She’s easily one of the most magnetic characters I’ve ever seen in a story. You didn’t just make her beautiful — you made her unforgettable.

The way you wove in Kalu’s pain, Baba T’s legacy, and the Circle’s dark depth… it’s like you took all the elements of crime, love, loss, betrayal, and spirituality, and you kneaded them into one masterpiece. Each episode feels like a painting — and we, your readers, are just lucky to witness it unfold.

Sometimes I stop and just smile — because the writing feels alive. The words breathe. The scenes hit hard. The story doesn’t beg for attention — it owns it. You can tell it’s written by someone who understands both darkness and light, and how to dance between them.

If there’s one thing I’ll say, it’s this — TheBlessedMan, you’ve done something rare. You didn’t just tell a story… you enchanted us with one. Every line feels deliberate, every scene feels necessary. You’ve made me fall in love with storytelling all over again.

Keep writing, sir. We’re watching history in motion.

— A loyal reader who’s still trying to recover from Tiffany’s last move. 😮🔥

Bro why Na... Why you wan make me cry Na... See as I dey giggle... This is super.. I love that my readers love my work. I appreciate it boss 🙏