He ʙᴇᴀᴛ his wife every Monday Night to please mistress , She felt BETRAYED, she left & got a REVENGE
In the heart of Lagos, Nigeria, the night was supposed to be peaceful. Instead, it erupted with the sound of shattering glass, echoing through the walls of a seemingly perfect home. A Dunny lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead. The vase that had once adorned their living room table now lay in pieces around her, a stark reminder of the violence that had become a twisted norm in her life.
Her husband, Kunnel, stood over her, his face contorted with rage. “You stupid woman! Why didn’t you clean the house the way Solar likes it?” His voice was a thunderclap, drowning out any remnants of the love they once shared. Adunny’s heart raced as confusion swept over her. Who was Solar? Why did Kunnel care so much about what this other woman thought of their home?
“Who is Solar?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to push herself up. But before she could regain her footing, Kunnel’s foot connected with her stomach, sending her crashing back to the floor. “Don’t ask me stupid questions! Just do what I tell you!” he screamed, his eyes wild with anger.
This was not the first time Kunnel had turned his rage on her. For the past six months, every Monday night had been marked by his violent outbursts, leaving her battered and broken. Adunny had always been a good wife. She cooked his favorite meals, kept their home immaculate, and never dared to talk back. Yet, each week, she found herself on the receiving end of his wrath, confused and terrified, wondering what she had done to deserve such treatment.
As she lay there, the pain radiating through her body, a new emotion began to swell within her—a fierce, unyielding anger. It was a fire that burned hotter than the fear she had lived with for so long. She had endured enough.
When Kunnel’s phone rang, she caught a glimpse of his true self as he answered with a sweet, affectionate tone, “Hello, my love.” Adunny’s heart shattered further as she realized he was speaking to Solar, the woman who had taken her husband’s heart—and apparently, his respect. “I’m coming to see you now. She won’t bother us anymore. I made sure of that,” Kunnel said, his words a dagger to her already wounded soul.
As he walked out the door, he glanced back at her, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Clean up this mess before I come back. Remember, Monday nights belong to Solar.” The door slammed shut, leaving Adunny in a suffocating silence.
Alone, she crawled to the bathroom, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Her once beautiful face was swollen and bruised; her left eye was already turning black. But beneath the pain, something powerful was awakening. She cleaned her wounds, her heart racing with determination. This was the last time she would be a victim.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up her phone and dialed her best friend, Kem. “Kem, I need your help,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Cunnel is cheating on me, and he beats me every Monday night because of this other woman. I need to find out who she is.”
There was a moment of silence on the line before Kem responded, her voice serious. “Come to my house right now. We’re going to find this Solar woman, and when we do…” The rest of her words faded into the background as Adunny felt a surge of adrenaline. It was time for revenge.
As she drove through the empty streets of Lagos at midnight, the cut on her head throbbed, but the anger in her heart burned brighter. When she reached Kem’s house, her friend embraced her tightly, taking in the bruises and cuts on her face. “We’re going to make him pay for this,” Kem vowed, her eyes fierce with determination.
They sat at Kem’s kitchen table, a laptop open before them. “Tell me everything you know about this Solar woman,” Kem urged. Adunny recounted what little she knew, focusing on the name and the fact that Kunnel had said Monday nights belonged to her.
Kem’s fingers flew across the keyboard as they searched for information. After two hours of fruitless digging through Kunnel’s social media, Kem had a thought. “What if she works at one of his car shops?”
They quickly looked up the websites for Kunnel’s three car shops. On the third site, they found a photo that sent chills down Adunny’s spine. “Look at this,” Kem said, pointing at the screen. There was Kunnel at a business event, standing next to a stunning woman in a red dress. The caption read, “Mr. Kunnel Adabo with Miss Solar Oak, our best sales manager.”
Adunny felt her heart drop. The woman was younger than her, perhaps twenty-five, with long hair and perfect makeup, smiling at Kunnel as if he were her entire world. “She works for him,” Adunny whispered, her voice barely audible.
As they continued to dig, they uncovered more photos of Kunnel and Solar together—each one a dagger to Adunny’s heart. In one picture, Kunnel was holding Solar’s hand across a dinner table, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke of love and intimacy. Adunny felt sick. While she was at home cooking dinner, her husband was out sharing romantic moments with his employee.
Then they stumbled upon Solar’s personal social media page, filled with images of luxury and wealth. In her most recent post, Solar wore a gold necklace that looked hauntingly familiar. “Wait,” Adunny said, her voice shaking. “That necklace… Kunnel gave me one just like it for our anniversary last year, but I haven’t seen it in months.”
Kem’s eyes blazed with anger. “He probably took it from your jewelry box and gave it to her.”
But the final blow came when they found a photo of Solar in a bedroom, wearing only a bathrobe. In the background, blue curtains hung from the window—curtains that Adunny had chosen herself. “That’s my bedroom!” she gasped. “That’s my house. She has been in my house, in my bed.”
Kem wrapped her arms around Adunny, trying to comfort her. “We have enough information now. But what do you want to do about it?”
Adunny’s voice was cold and determined. “I want to destroy them both. But I need to be smart about it. If I confront them, Kunnel will twist the story to make me look crazy. I need proof—real proof that everyone can see.”
A smile crept onto her face, but it was not a happy one. “I know Kunnel’s schedule. Every Monday at 8:00 p.m., he goes to see her. Next Monday, we’re going to follow him and record everything.”
The storm outside mirrored the tempest within her as thunder rumbled ominously. “What if we get caught?” Kem asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Then we run,” Adunny replied, her resolve unshaken. “But I promise you this: by next Tuesday morning, everyone in Lagos will know what kind of man Kunnel Adabbeo really is.”
Monday arrived far too slowly for Adunny. She spent the week pretending everything was normal, cooking Kunnel’s favorite meals and smiling when he spoke to her, all while plotting her revenge. Strangely, Kunnel seemed different this week—nicer, even bringing her flowers on Wednesday, as if trying to atone for his past mistakes.
But Adunny knew better. “It’s okay, my husband,” she said sweetly, masking her true feelings. “I understand.”
As the clock struck 7:00 p.m. that fateful Monday, Kunnel showered and dressed in his best clothes, using expensive cologne. “I have a business meeting tonight,” he lied, avoiding her gaze. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll keep your dinner warm,” she replied, her heart pounding with anticipation.
The moment his car left the compound, Adunny called Kem. “He just left. Meet me at the corner of Oola Odiku Street. Bring your camera.”
Adunny changed into dark clothes, her heart racing with excitement as they followed Kunnel through Lagos traffic. He drove to a fancy hotel called Golden Tulip. They parked across the street and waited. At 8:15 p.m., a red car pulled up, and Solar emerged, dressed in a tight black dress and high heels, looking around before striding into the hotel.
“There she is,” Kem whispered. “Your husband’s girlfriend.”
They waited ten more minutes before Kunnel walked into the hotel lobby, heading straight for the elevator. “Room 405,” Kem said, peering through binoculars. “I saw him press the button.”
Adunny felt a surge of adrenaline as they followed him into the hotel, their plan clear. They reached the fourth floor and found room 405. Adunny pressed her ear to the door, hearing voices inside—one unmistakably Kunnel’s, the other a woman’s laughter.
“What now?” Kem asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We wait. They have to come out sometime.”
But as the minutes dragged on, frustration began to bubble within Adunny. After an hour, Kem had an idea. “What if we call room service? I’ll pretend to be bringing champagne to room 405. When someone opens the door, you take photos.”
It was a risky plan, but Adunny agreed. Kem called the hotel, posing as room service. “Hello, this is room service. We have champagne for room 405, but I’m lost. Can you tell me exactly where the room is?”
The hotel worker provided directions, confirming that room 405 was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Adabo. Adunny felt as if the ground had been pulled from beneath her. Kunnel was pretending Solar was his wife.
“They’re pretending to be married,” Kem said, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger.
After another thirty minutes, they heard the door open. Adunny quickly turned on her phone camera, ready to capture the truth. Kunnel stepped out first, his shirt wrinkled, followed closely by Solar, her dress unzipped at the back. Kunnel wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her neck. “Same time next Monday, my love,” he said, his voice dripping with affection.
“Of course, but next time bring me that diamond bracelet you promised—the one you said you would take from your wife’s jewelry box.”
Adunny’s heart raced as she recorded everything. They were not just having an affair; they were planning to steal from her. When Kunnel and Solar entered the elevator, Adunny and Kem rushed to the stairs, desperate to escape before they were seen.
“We did it!” Kem exclaimed as they reached the parking lot just in time to see Kunnel’s car leaving. “We have proof!”
But Adunny’s face was grim. “This is just the beginning. I need to decide how to use this video.”
“You could show it to his family or post it online,” Kem suggested.
“No,” Adunny shook her head. “All of those options are too small. I want everyone to see what kind of man he really is—his customers, his family, his friends. Everyone.”
As they drove home, thunder crashed outside, but this time, Adunny felt empowered. She was the storm.
The next morning, Kunnel woke up blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing around him. He greeted Adunny with a smile, kissing her forehead. “Good morning, beautiful. You look lovely today.”
Inside, Adunny felt sick. How could he touch her with the same hands that had hurt her?
After Kunnel left for work, Adunny called her lawyer, Mr. Balagan. “I need to see you today. It’s about my marriage.”
Two hours later, she sat in his office, showing him the video. “This is very clear evidence of adultery,” he said after watching it. “You have good grounds for divorce, but are you sure you want to end your marriage?”
“Yes, but I want more than just a divorce. I want to make sure he pays for what he’s done to me.”
Mr. Balagan leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “What exactly do you want?”
Adunny explained how Kunnel had been using their joint bank accounts to fund his affair. “I want to prove he stole our money to spend on another woman.”
“That could be considered theft of marital assets. If you can prove it, the court might order him to pay you back double.”
Adunny’s eyes lit up. “What else can I do?”
“Well, if his business partners knew about this affair, they might not want to work with him anymore. Many Nigerian businessmen don’t trust a man who cheats on his wife.”
This was exactly what Adunny wanted to hear. She left the lawyer’s office feeling empowered, determined to gather more evidence.
She drove to Kunnel’s main car shop in Victoria Island, knowing the workers there from her past visits. Calling Samuel, the mechanic, she asked, “Is my husband here?”
“No, ma. He’s at the Acia branch today, but Miss Solar is here.”
Adunny’s heart raced. “Can you show me where her office is? I’d like to introduce myself.”
Samuel led her to the back of the shop, where she saw Solar, impeccably dressed and confident. Adunny felt a surge of anger as she realized this woman had destroyed her marriage.
“Excuse me,” Adunny said, stepping forward. “I’m Adunny Ado, Kunnel’s wife.”
Solar’s face turned pale, but then she smiled. “So, you’re the wife. I was wondering when I would meet you.”
“I know about the affair,” Adunny said quietly, her voice steady.
“Good. Then you know your husband is no longer happy with you. He loves me now.”
The words hit Adunny like a slap. “You’re destroying my marriage.”
“I’m not destroying anything. Your marriage was already broken. Kunnel told me you can’t even give him children. What kind of wife are you now?”
Adunny’s anger boiled over. “What kind of woman seduces a married man?”
“The kind who gives him what he needs—love, passion, excitement. Things you obviously can’t give him.”
As Solar got into her car, she rolled down the window. “Oh, and thank you for the diamond necklace. It looks much better on me than it ever did on you.”
As Solar drove away, Adunny stood there, her heart racing. She had recorded every word. The war was about to begin.
That night, Kunnel returned home earlier than usual, carrying flowers and chocolates. “My beautiful wife,” he said, presenting her with the gifts.
Adunny wanted to laugh, cry, or scream, but instead, she smiled. “These are lovely, honey. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. I just wanted to show my wife how much I love her.”
As he showered, Adunny examined the receipt for the flowers. “Fifteen thousand naira?” she murmured. That was a lot of money for a simple bouquet. Had he bought flowers for Solar too?
At dinner, Kunnel was unusually talkative. “How was your day, sweetheart?”
“Quiet. I went shopping and visited Kem. Nothing special.”
“That’s nice. You should go out more often. Have fun with your friends.”
Adunny almost choked. “What about you? How was work?”
“Busy. Very busy.” Another lie.
Adunny knew he would probably be with Solar that night. “Of course, honey, I understand.”
After dinner, they watched television together. Kunnel pulled her close, whispering, “I love you so much.”
Those words used to make Adunny happy. Now they made her feel sick.
The next morning, after Kunnel left for work, Adunny visited the bank to check their joint accounts. “I need to see all the transactions on our accounts for the past six months,” she told the account manager.
Mrs. Oandu printed out the statements. Adunny’s heart sank as she read through them—hotel bills, expensive restaurants, jewelry store receipts. In six months, Kunnel had spent over two million naira on things that were definitely not for his wife.
“I didn’t approve these purchases,” she said, her voice shaking.
“That’s unusual,” the manager replied. “Would you like to speak to our legal department about protecting your assets?”
“Yes, please.”
An hour later, Adunny learned she could freeze their joint accounts if she could prove Kunnel was stealing money for illegal purposes. An extramarital affair counted as a legal use of marital funds.
With a plan forming in her mind, she drove to Kem’s office. “I need your help again,” she told her friend. “Tonight, Kunnel is probably going to see Solar again. I want to follow them and get more video evidence, but this time I want to do something bigger.”
Adunny showed Kem a list of Kunnel’s business partners, suppliers, and family members. “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to send each of them a copy of the video from the hotel along with a message explaining that Kunnel Adabbeo is a cheating husband who steals money from his wife to spend on his mistress.”
Kem’s eyes widened. “Adunny, that will destroy his business completely.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I want.”
But as they prepared, Adunny couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The next morning, she received a text from an unknown number. “Come back to Lagos if you want. But remember, pregnant women need extra protection. It would be terrible if something happened to my baby because of your stress. Think about it. Solar.”
Adunny’s heart raced. Solar was using her pregnancy as a weapon, threatening her in the most vulnerable way possible.
Determined not to be intimidated, Adunny returned to Lagos, checking into a small hotel. She needed to be careful now. Her first stop was the hospital where she had sought help after Kunnel’s worst beating.
Dr. Amadi remembered her case clearly. “Your injuries that night were very serious,” he said, reviewing her file. “You had a concussion, three broken ribs, and severe bruising. The pattern of injuries was consistent with domestic violence.”
Dr. Amadi wrote a detailed report, crucial evidence for Adunny’s case.
Next, she met with the three women who had also been victims of Solar. They shared their harrowing stories, each one more devastating than the last.
Adunny felt a surge of determination as she listened. “Solar is my cousin,” one woman revealed. “I’ve watched her destroy marriages for years. The pregnancy with your husband? It’s not her first fake pregnancy.”
Adunny’s heart raced. “Fake pregnancy?”
“She’s done it three times before. She uses fake tests and ultrasound pictures to trap men. Then she either fakes a miscarriage or disappears.”
This was the breakthrough Adunny needed. If Solar was faking her pregnancy, it would destroy her credibility completely.
But as they planned their next steps, Adunny received terrible news. Kunnel had been in a car accident. He was alive, but badly hurt. Solar was telling everyone that the stress of Adunny’s campaign had caused him to crash.
Despite everything, Adunny felt a pang of concern for him. She drove to the hospital, where she found Kunnel’s family blaming her for the accident.
“You destroyed my son’s life!” his mother screamed.
Adunny stood her ground. “I never wanted Kunnel to get hurt. I just wanted people to know the truth about what he did to me.”
Solar appeared, perfectly composed, and taunted Adunny about her pregnancy. “This baby is the future. Kunnel and I are building a new life together. You need to let go of the past.”
But Adunny had information that could change everything. “I know the truth about you, Solar. And soon everyone else will, too.”
As Kunnel lay in the hospital, Adunny felt conflicted. He had hurt her deeply, but she still cared for him.
When Kunnel finally woke up, he was a changed man. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I realized how badly I hurt you.”
Adunny listened as he confessed that Solar was not who he thought she was. “She was planning to take all my money and disappear,” he said, his voice weak.
The truth hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
As they navigated the aftermath of the accident and the revelations, Adunny felt a shift within herself. She was no longer the scared, beaten woman she had once been. She had fought back, and now she was stronger than ever.
But the battle was far from over. Solar was still a threat, and Adunny knew she had to be prepared.
In the following weeks, Adunny and Kunnel began to rebuild their lives. He attended counseling, and they started to reconnect, slowly but surely.
One evening, Kunnel cooked dinner for Adunny, the warmth between them palpable. “The doctor called today,” he said, his voice filled with hope. “There’s no medical reason why we can’t have children.”
Tears filled Adunny’s eyes as she realized that their future was finally brightening.
Months later, Adunny discovered she was pregnant. When she told Kunnel, he cried tears of joy, holding her tightly.
As they welcomed their daughter into the world, Adunny reflected on their journey. The beatings, betrayal, revenge, forgiveness, and new beginnings had shaped her into a woman of strength and resilience.
Six months after their daughter’s birth, Adunny received news about Solar. “She was released from prison early for good behavior,” Kem informed her. “But she left Lagos immediately.”
Adunny felt a sense of closure. “Good. I hope she learns to build her own life instead of destroying others.”
As the sun set over Lagos, Adunny smiled, knowing that her journey had taught her the value of strength, love, and forgiveness. In the end, she had not only survived but thrived, proving that sometimes the best victory is not in destroying your enemy but in building something beautiful from the ashes of what was lost.
The war was over, and everyone had won.
