Zara tossed her bag onto the bed, the weight of the day pressing into her bones. It wasn’t just the stress of work—it was the tension at home. Her father’s cold remark earlier still echoed in her mind:“Thank God you knew.”As if that alone justified everything.She had barely taken off her shoes when her eyes caught something on the dresser—something that stopped her cold.A brown envelope.Her heart skipped. Slowly, she walked toward it.No. It couldn’t be.She had trashed that thing. She had tossed the original USB envelope into her bedroom wastebasket just two nights ago in a fit of anger, not even sparing a glance at the contents. She had crushed the paper in her palm, hissed in frustration, and thrown it out. It was gone.So how was it here again?She stared at the envelope. Same look. Same size. Same weight. Same quiet threat.Her pulse picked up speed.There was a note on top again—folded neatly and taped shut.“You can ignore the truth, Zara. But it won’t stop being true. Wat
“Are you ready? I’m on video call already, switch on your camera!” Kemi’s face popped up on the screen, eyes wide with suspense. “Let’s see what this mystery person has for us this time.”Zara sighed. “I swear, Kemi, if this is another prank or some irrelevant video again, I’m done. This whole thing is messing with my head.”“You said the note read, ‘Watch this if you want to know Regan’s secret,’ right?” Kemi reminded her. “We can’t ignore that. What if it’s something important this time?”“Fine,” Zara muttered and hit play.The video opened to a grainy home footage. A much younger Regan—he couldn’t be more than seven—stood in a dimly lit study room. Books lined the shelves in perfect symmetry, and a large oak cabinet stood in the corner. Little Regan’s face was focused, his tongue poking slightly out of his mouth as he reached for a small keypad on the cabinet.The timestamp on the video was nearly two decades old. No audio played, only the subtle whir of static as the camera remain
Imani sat on the edge of her bed, the quiet hum of her phone in her palm the only sound in the room. Her gaze was fixed on the alert that had just popped up. Ten million naira. It’s done, she thought to herself, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. She had played her cards right, and now she had exactly what she wanted. The money had arrived without any real effort on her part—Regan had folded quickly, his father too eager to avoid any further mess.She set the phone down and ran a hand through her hair, the silence in the room now almost deafening. The luxury of knowing she had the upper hand felt good, but she wasn’t done yet. She had made her move, but now it was time for Regan to understand that she wasn’t going anywhere. Not for now. Not ever.Imani grabbed her phone again and dialed Regan’s number, her fingers tapping the screen with calculated precision. The moment the call connected, she heard Regan’s voice, colder than she had ever heard it.“What do you want
The soft chime of a new email echoed from Zara’s phone as she sat curled on her bed, her sketchpad resting on her lap. She reached for the device absentmindedly, expecting another forwarded message from Kemi filled with memes or a brand update from one of the beauty pages she followed.But as her eyes skimmed the subject line, she straightened up instantly.Subject: URGENT MODELING REQUEST – PAYMENT CONFIRMEDHer heart skipped. She tapped the message open with trembling fingers._Dear Zara Tunde,Thank you once again for your outstanding performance during our last campaign in Abuja. We were thoroughly impressed and would like to request your presence for an exclusive shoot scheduled for next weekend.The total compensation is $2,000 USD, which will be wired to you upon confirmation. Travel, lodging, and feeding will be handled by our brand team.Kindly respond within 24 hours to confirm your availability.Sincerely,Amaara Agency_Zara’s eyes widened. Two thousand dollars? That was o
The air at the dinner table was thick with the scent of fried plantains and grilled chicken, but for Zara, everything felt like smoke and mirrors. She poked at her food in silence, her mind spinning with the script she and Kemi had rehearsed over the phone for hours. The modeling agency in Abuja had reached out again with an even bigger offer—$2000 this time—for another campaign shoot. It was the kind of gig she couldn’t afford to miss, not with her career barely finding its footing. But the problem wasn’t the job. It was her parents.She cleared her throat softly, testing the waters.“Mum, Dad…” she began, her voice tentative, “I forgot to mention earlier. My office selected me for a leadership retreat. It’s in Port Harcourt this weekend.”Her mother, who had just taken a sip from her cup of zobo, raised her brows slightly but said nothing. Her father, on the other hand, paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at her, then at her mother, then back at Zara.“A leadership
Zara sat on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, phone pressed to her ear. Her chest was tight with tension, her nerves stretched thin. She had rehearsed the call a dozen times in her head, but now that it was actually happening, everything she wanted to say tangled on her tongue.The call connected. Regan’s voice came through, deep and cool.“What’s up, Zara?”She paused a moment, swallowing her pride. “I need your help.”Regan sighed lightly. “Okay. That usually means trouble.”Zara ignored the teasing edge in his voice. “It’s about this modeling gig. The Abuja team contacted me again. They want me for another shoot. This time, they’re paying two thousand dollars.”Regan whistled. “Nice. You’ve got them hooked.”“Yeah,” she replied, her voice softer. “But my parents… they’re already suspicious. They said no to my last excuse, and my dad even called my office to confirm if there was a leadership retreat. It was a mess.”“So what now?”“I need you to lie for me.”Regan didn’t respond im
Regan arrived at the Tunde residence with his usual cool confidence. Dressed in a well-fitted ash shirt and dark jeans, he exuded calm assurance as he sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Tunde in the sitting room. The mood was quiet, formal, the air thick with unspoken tension.Zara joined moments later, dressed casually, phone in hand. The moment she saw Regan seated with her parents, she took a deep breath, remembering the plan. Time to act.“Good evening,” Regan began smoothly. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I came because I want to discuss something important regarding Zara and me.”Mr. Tunde leaned forward. “We’re listening.”Regan continued, “We’re just two weeks away from our wedding, and I believe it’s important we take a step toward understanding each other better before then. So, I suggested a short trip—just a few days—to Obudu Cattle Ranch. It’s not too far, still within the country. I think the time away could help us prepare mentally and emotionally for the new
The quiet hum of the air conditioner in Chief Kareem’s study was the only sound that filled the air until the door creaked open. Zara stepped in, her face calm, unreadable. She stood at the threshold, her arms folded loosely across her chest.Regan, already seated with his father across the room, turned sharply. “What are you doing here?” he asked, brows furrowing.Zara didn’t respond immediately.Before she could speak, another door clicked open. All three turned to see Imani step into the room, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her red lipstick matched the confident fire in her eyes.Regan shot up from his chair. “What is this? What the hell is going on?” He turned to his father. “Dad? Please, someone had better explain.”Imani, poised and graceful, walked toward Zara. “I believe Zara knows,” she said, her gaze flicking to Regan and then back to Zara.Zara didn’t blink. “I know enough.”“No,” Regan said, stepping closer to the two women. “No, this doesn’t make sen
The sun rose lazily over Abuja, casting a golden hue across the skyline as Zara stood at the window of her suite, wrapped in a white hotel robe. The city buzzed softly below, but her mind wasn’t on the beauty of the view. It was on Regan. And the strange slip he made last night. You did, kind of. That phrase had echoed through her dreams, chasing her even into wakefulness.Downstairs, the agency had already sent an itinerary to her email. A photoshoot at noon, fittings by 3 p.m., and a dinner event in the evening with international scouts and fashion investors. It was a big deal. One she had dreamed about forever. But somehow, it was hard to focus when questions about her past, and Regan’s strange reaction, hovered in the air like unanswered riddles.A soft knock came at her door.Zara opened it to find Regan, dressed in joggers and a fitted white T-shirt, holding two cups of coffee. “Morning,” he said, his smile a bit cautious.“Morning.” She stepped aside to let him in.“I figured y
The terminal buzzed with life as Zara stepped off the plane, her carry-on slung over her shoulder. Beside her, Regan adjusted his wristwatch, squinting at the sunlight streaming through the glass windows of Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport. The trip from Lagos had been quiet, with both of them lost in their thoughts. Now, as they collected their bags and exited into the waiting area, a sleek black car from the modeling agency stood by, ready to whisk them to the hotel.The hotel, nestled in the heart of Abuja’s city center, was a luxurious five-star sanctuary. The agency had done a stellar job booking Zara’s suite—a well-lit, elegantly furnished space with soft cream curtains and a stunning view of the skyline. Regan whistled under his breath as he stepped into the room with her.“Nice. I give it to your agency. They went all out,” he said, tossing a sideways glance at her.Zara dropped her bag on the bed and looked around. “Yeah, it’s nice. But now, what about you?”Regan shrugge
Regan didn’t waste time. The moment Zara left ,he made his way back to the study where his father sat alone, calmly sipping on a glass of red wine like nothing unusual had happened just minutes ago.He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, folding his arms. “Dad, why did Imani say what she said?”Chief Kareem glanced up, unsurprised. “She said many things. Be specific.”“You know what I mean,” Regan said, stepping further in. “She didn’t reveal the real truth. Why?”His father sighed, placing the glass down on the mahogany table. “Because I asked her not to.”“You what?” Regan’s voice rose slightly. “Why would you even—?”“I gave her five million naira,” Chief Kareem interrupted coolly. “To play her role. To say just enough to get Zara back on your side, and nothing more.”Regan blinked. “Five million?” His jaw tightened. “But she already asked for ten million before—don’t tell me you gave her another five on top?”Chief Kareem leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk pull
The quiet hum of the air conditioner in Chief Kareem’s study was the only sound that filled the air until the door creaked open. Zara stepped in, her face calm, unreadable. She stood at the threshold, her arms folded loosely across her chest.Regan, already seated with his father across the room, turned sharply. “What are you doing here?” he asked, brows furrowing.Zara didn’t respond immediately.Before she could speak, another door clicked open. All three turned to see Imani step into the room, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her red lipstick matched the confident fire in her eyes.Regan shot up from his chair. “What is this? What the hell is going on?” He turned to his father. “Dad? Please, someone had better explain.”Imani, poised and graceful, walked toward Zara. “I believe Zara knows,” she said, her gaze flicking to Regan and then back to Zara.Zara didn’t blink. “I know enough.”“No,” Regan said, stepping closer to the two women. “No, this doesn’t make sen
Regan arrived at the Tunde residence with his usual cool confidence. Dressed in a well-fitted ash shirt and dark jeans, he exuded calm assurance as he sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Tunde in the sitting room. The mood was quiet, formal, the air thick with unspoken tension.Zara joined moments later, dressed casually, phone in hand. The moment she saw Regan seated with her parents, she took a deep breath, remembering the plan. Time to act.“Good evening,” Regan began smoothly. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I came because I want to discuss something important regarding Zara and me.”Mr. Tunde leaned forward. “We’re listening.”Regan continued, “We’re just two weeks away from our wedding, and I believe it’s important we take a step toward understanding each other better before then. So, I suggested a short trip—just a few days—to Obudu Cattle Ranch. It’s not too far, still within the country. I think the time away could help us prepare mentally and emotionally for the new
Zara sat on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, phone pressed to her ear. Her chest was tight with tension, her nerves stretched thin. She had rehearsed the call a dozen times in her head, but now that it was actually happening, everything she wanted to say tangled on her tongue.The call connected. Regan’s voice came through, deep and cool.“What’s up, Zara?”She paused a moment, swallowing her pride. “I need your help.”Regan sighed lightly. “Okay. That usually means trouble.”Zara ignored the teasing edge in his voice. “It’s about this modeling gig. The Abuja team contacted me again. They want me for another shoot. This time, they’re paying two thousand dollars.”Regan whistled. “Nice. You’ve got them hooked.”“Yeah,” she replied, her voice softer. “But my parents… they’re already suspicious. They said no to my last excuse, and my dad even called my office to confirm if there was a leadership retreat. It was a mess.”“So what now?”“I need you to lie for me.”Regan didn’t respond im
The air at the dinner table was thick with the scent of fried plantains and grilled chicken, but for Zara, everything felt like smoke and mirrors. She poked at her food in silence, her mind spinning with the script she and Kemi had rehearsed over the phone for hours. The modeling agency in Abuja had reached out again with an even bigger offer—$2000 this time—for another campaign shoot. It was the kind of gig she couldn’t afford to miss, not with her career barely finding its footing. But the problem wasn’t the job. It was her parents.She cleared her throat softly, testing the waters.“Mum, Dad…” she began, her voice tentative, “I forgot to mention earlier. My office selected me for a leadership retreat. It’s in Port Harcourt this weekend.”Her mother, who had just taken a sip from her cup of zobo, raised her brows slightly but said nothing. Her father, on the other hand, paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at her, then at her mother, then back at Zara.“A leadership
The soft chime of a new email echoed from Zara’s phone as she sat curled on her bed, her sketchpad resting on her lap. She reached for the device absentmindedly, expecting another forwarded message from Kemi filled with memes or a brand update from one of the beauty pages she followed.But as her eyes skimmed the subject line, she straightened up instantly.Subject: URGENT MODELING REQUEST – PAYMENT CONFIRMEDHer heart skipped. She tapped the message open with trembling fingers._Dear Zara Tunde,Thank you once again for your outstanding performance during our last campaign in Abuja. We were thoroughly impressed and would like to request your presence for an exclusive shoot scheduled for next weekend.The total compensation is $2,000 USD, which will be wired to you upon confirmation. Travel, lodging, and feeding will be handled by our brand team.Kindly respond within 24 hours to confirm your availability.Sincerely,Amaara Agency_Zara’s eyes widened. Two thousand dollars? That was o
Imani sat on the edge of her bed, the quiet hum of her phone in her palm the only sound in the room. Her gaze was fixed on the alert that had just popped up. Ten million naira. It’s done, she thought to herself, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. She had played her cards right, and now she had exactly what she wanted. The money had arrived without any real effort on her part—Regan had folded quickly, his father too eager to avoid any further mess.She set the phone down and ran a hand through her hair, the silence in the room now almost deafening. The luxury of knowing she had the upper hand felt good, but she wasn’t done yet. She had made her move, but now it was time for Regan to understand that she wasn’t going anywhere. Not for now. Not ever.Imani grabbed her phone again and dialed Regan’s number, her fingers tapping the screen with calculated precision. The moment the call connected, she heard Regan’s voice, colder than she had ever heard it.“What do you want