He Pushed His Pregnant Wife Off the Cliff for Mistress — 9 Years Later She Returned For Revenge
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He Pushed His Pregnant Wife Off the Cliff for Mistress — 9 Years Later She Returned For Revenge
Chapter One: The Betrayal
The sun was setting over the Anugu hillside, casting a golden hue across the landscape. Neca stood at the edge of the cliff, her heart racing, not from fear but from disbelief. Her husband, Oena, had always been the love of her life, but the coldness in his eyes now sent chills down her spine.
“Please, Oena, please. I’m carrying your babies!” she screamed, desperation lacing her voice. She felt the strength of his hands gripping her shoulders, pushing her closer to the edge.
“That’s exactly why you have to go,” he replied, his tone devoid of emotion, as if he were discussing a mere business transaction. “Those babies complicate everything. Nosi can give me legitimate heirs. Clean ones. Not from a barren woman who finally got lucky.”
Neca’s back pressed against the empty air, her heels teetering at the very edge of the precipice. Behind her lay 300 feet of nothingness, a rocky gorge and a river below. “I’m six months pregnant with twins! How can you call me—”
“Accidents happen,” he interrupted, his handsome face twisting into something monstrous. “Pregnant women lose their balance. Tragic. Everyone will understand. Everyone will comfort the grieving widower.”
Horror crashed over Neca, worse than any fall could. “You planned this. The weekend trip, the romantic hike. You brought me here to kill me.”
“I brought you here to solve a problem,” he said, glancing over her shoulder at the drop. “Nosi is three months pregnant. We can’t wait any longer. The timeline has to make sense.”
Neca instinctively covered her swollen belly with her hands. Inside, her twins kicked alive, innocent, about to die because their father wanted a different woman’s children instead. “I’ll divorce you! I’ll disappear! Just let me live. Let them live!”
“Let you take half my money in court? Let you raise my bastards to come after my legitimate children someday?” Oena shook his head. “No, this is cleaner.”
With a swift motion, he pushed her. Neca’s scream followed her down into the abyss.
Chapter Two: A Desperate Survival
The fall felt like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. Neca’s body tumbled through empty air, spinning, her mind screaming, but her voice lost to the wind. The cliff face blurred past—rock, vegetation, more rock. Then impact. Not the crushing finality of stone, but the shocking cold of water.
She plunged deep into the Udie River, the current immediately seizing her, dragging her downstream away from the cliff base where Oena would be watching, confirming her death. Her lungs burned. Her babies kicked frantically inside her. Everything hurt, but she was alive.
Neca broke the surface, gasping, choking, already being swept away by the current. She caught a glimpse of the clifftop, impossibly high, impossibly far, but couldn’t see Oena. Couldn’t see anything but water and sky and pain. She tried to swim, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Something was broken. Ribs, maybe. Her left arm hung useless. Blood clouded the water around her.
“Hold on, babies,” she whispered through cracked lips. “Hold on. Mama’s got you.” The current carried her for what felt like hours. Sometimes she was conscious, sometimes not. The world became fragments—sky, water, pain, darkness, repeat.
Until hands grabbed her.
“Chiniki, this woman is alive! Help me pull her out!” Fishermen. Three of them in a small boat, checking their nets downstream. They hauled her aboard like a caught fish. Her pregnant belly unmistakable even through her soaked, torn clothing.
“She’s bleeding badly,” one said. “And pregnant. We need to get her to the clinic now.”
But Neca grabbed the nearest man’s wrist with her good hand, surprising strength in her grip. “No clinic, no hospital, no police.”
“Sister, you need medical attention.”
“My husband pushed me off that cliff,” she gasped, her voice raw and broken. “If he knows I survived, he’ll finish the job. Please, I’m begging you. Help me disappear.”
The three men exchanged glances. In Nigeria, everyone knew stories like this. Wealthy men disposing of inconvenient wives, police who looked the other way, justice that could be bought. The oldest fisherman, his face weathered and kind, nodded slowly. “My sister is a midwife, three villages over. She’ll help you, but after that, you’re on your own. We can’t be involved in this kind of trouble.”
“I understand. Thank you. Thank you.”
Chapter Three: A New Life
They took her to a small concrete house where a woman named Mama Jed—round, capable, unshockable—cleaned her wounds, wrapped her ribs, set her arm, and examined her pregnancy with expert hands. “Twins,” she confirmed. “Both still alive. Strong heartbeats. You’re lucky, sister. Very lucky.”
“Lucky?” Neca almost laughed. Her husband had just murdered her. She’d fallen 300 feet. She’d nearly drowned. She had nothing—no money, no documents, no home, no family who’d believe her story. But her babies were alive. Maybe that was enough.
Mama Jed let her stay. Weeks became months. Neca healed slowly, her body knitting itself back together through sheer stubborn will. At seven months, one month premature but strong, she gave birth to twins—a boy and a girl. She named them Zakura and Adonna. “Show your strength and father’s daughter,” she whispered, because they would need strength and because their father would never know his daughter existed.
“What will you do now?” Mama Jed asked when Neca was strong enough to walk, to plan, to think beyond survival.
“I don’t know.” Neca held her sleeping twins, one in each arm. “So small, so perfect, so completely dependent on her. I have nothing, no identity. Oena will have declared me dead by now. No money, no skills beyond being a housewife. How do I build a life from nothing?”
“The same way you survived that fall, Neca. One breath at a time.”
Chapter Four: Transformation
It started with Mama Jed’s sister in Abuja who needed a house girl. Neca took the job cleaning, cooking, caring for children while her own twins stayed with Mama Jed back in the village. She saved every naira. Then a friend of the employer needed help with bookkeeping. Neca had been good with numbers once, back when she’d helped Oena with his early business ventures before he’d decided wives should be decorative, not useful.
She learned computers at a library, taught herself accounting software, got a job at a small firm, saved every naira, met a Lebanese businessman who needed someone to manage his property portfolio—someone smart, hungry, willing to work twice as hard as anyone else. She learned real estate from the ground up. Learned how to spot value, negotiate deals, read people, play the game, saved every naira.
After three years, she had enough to buy her first property, a rundown flat in a decent area. She renovated it herself, sold it for double, bought two more, then five, then ten. She became Kioma Okapor, an identity she’d purchased from a woman who died childless, whose family needed money for burial. New name, new documents, new life.
By year five, she owned a property management company. By year seven, she was developing entire housing estates. By year nine, she was a millionaire several times over. CEO of Aquafor Properties Limited, a mystery woman in Abuja real estate circles. Where did she come from? How did she rise so fast? Who was she really? No one knew. And she wanted it that way until she was ready. Until she was powerful enough, until her children were old enough to understand, until she could return to Lagos and destroy the man who tried to kill them all.
Chapter Five: The Return
Neca stood in her Abuja penthouse, looking at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. 37 years old now, nothing like the soft, naive 28-year-old who died on that cliff. Her body was lean, hard from years of yoga and running. Her face more angular, sharpened by hunger, rage, and determination. Her hair cut short and natural instead of the long weave Oena had preferred. Her style, severe and powerful—tailored suits and sharp heels, not the soft, feminine dresses he’d chosen for her.
She looked like a completely different person. She was a completely different person.
“Mama!” Zakura appeared in the doorway, nine years old, tall for his age with his father’s sharp features but his mother’s kind eyes. “Are we really going to Lagos?” Beside him, Adonna, his twin, petite and fierce, all fire where her brother was thoughtful. “Are we going to see him? Our father?”
Neca turned from the window. Her children, her miracles, the reason she’d survived. “Yes,” she said quietly. “We’re going to see him.”
“Will you tell him who you are?” Zakura asked.
“Eventually. But first, I’m going to take everything he has, everything he stole from us. Everything he built on the lie of my death.”
She knelt to their level. “Do you understand what we’re about to do? It won’t be easy. It might be scary. You’ll have to pretend, to lie, to watch me hurt the man who’s technically your father.”
“He’s not our father,” Adonna said fiercely. “Fathers don’t push their wives off cliffs. Fathers don’t try to murder their babies. He’s just a bad man who happens to be related to us. He tried to kill us,” Zakura added, quieter but no less certain.
Before we were even born, he doesn’t get to be called our father.
Neca pulled them both into her arms. “I love you both so much. This is going to be hard, but we’re going to do it together. And when it’s over, he’ll never hurt anyone again.”
“When do we leave?” Adonna asked.
“Tomorrow.” Neca smiled, and it was not a kind smile. “I’ve already purchased the building next to his office, already infiltrated his social circles through shell companies, already positioned everything perfectly.”
She stood looking out at the Abuja skyline. “Tomorrow, Kioma Okapor arrives in Lagos, a mysterious investor interested in partnering with Obina’s construction company.”
“And he won’t recognize you?” Zakura asked.
“Not a chance.” Neca touched her short hair, her changed face, her transformed body. The woman he killed was soft, dependent, desperate for his love. The woman he’s about to meet is hard, independent, and very, very dangerous.
“What about her?” Adonna’s voice went cold. “The woman who took your place, his new wife, Gozi?”
Neca’s smile sharpened. “Oh, I have special plans for N Goi.”
Chapter Six: The Plot Thickens
She knew. You see, I did some investigating. She knew he was going to kill me. She helped him plan it. Made sure I went on that romantic weekend. Even suggested the hiking trail.
“She helped murder you?” Zakura’s voice cracked with rage. “She tried.”
Neca’s voice was still. “But I’m very hard to kill. And now she’s about to discover that the dead don’t always stay buried.”
She pulled out her phone and made a call. “Mr. Isak’s office. Yes, this is Kioma Akapor, CEO of AAR Properties. I’m calling to confirm our meeting tomorrow afternoon, 2 p.m.”
“Perfect. Yes, I’m very interested in discussing a potential partnership. The Lucky Development Project sounds fascinating.” She paused, listening. “Oh, he’s looking forward to meeting me. How lovely. Please tell him the feeling is mutual. I’ve been wanting to meet Obina for a very, very long time.”
She hung up. Tomorrow it began. Nine years of planning. Nine years of building power. Nine years of becoming strong enough to face the man who tried to erase her. Tomorrow, the dead would rise. And Obina would learn that some ghosts don’t just haunt; they destroy.
Chapter Seven: The Gala
The Azik Construction Company headquarters stood on Victoria Island like a monument to stolen success. Neca, now Kioma Okafor, sat in the back of her Mercedes, staring up at the gleaming 15-story building—her building—because she’d owned the land it sat on through a shell company, then sold it to Oena at a steep discount nine years ago when he was grieving and expanding his business on his dead wife’s insurance money. He had no idea he’d been paying her rent for years.
“Mama, are you ready?” Zakura asked from the seat beside her. He and Adonna had insisted on coming, wanting to see the man who tried to murder them, even if they had to wait in the car.
“I’m ready.” Neca checked her reflection in the compact mirror. Flawless makeup, designer suit, diamond earrings. She looked like money, power, success. Nothing like the woman who’d begged for her life on a cliff nine years ago.
“Remember,” Adonna said fiercely. “You’re stronger than him now, richer, more powerful. He’s nothing. He’s less than nothing.”
Neca corrected softly. “He’s a dead man walking. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
She stepped out of the car into the Lagos heat, her heels clicking on pavement with the confidence of a woman who owned the world. The lobby was all marble and glass, Obina’s corporate logo everywhere, a rising sun symbolizing new beginnings. The irony made her want to laugh. His new beginning had required her death.
“Miss Okafor.” A young receptionist approached, practically glowing with the importance of greeting a wealthy visitor. “Mr. Ezik is expecting you. Top floor, corner office. Would you like me to escort you?”
“I can find my way.” Neca’s voice was smooth, cultured, nothing like the soft, uncertain tone she’d used as Oena’s wife. Nine years of commanding boardrooms had changed everything about her.
The elevator rose swiftly. Neca watched the floor numbers climb, her heart rate staying perfectly calm despite what was coming. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times, planned it, rehearsed it, knew exactly how it would unfold.
The elevator doors opened to reveal an executive floor. Expensive carpet, original artwork, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Victoria Island and the Atlantic beyond. And there, walking toward her with hand extended and a politician’s smile firmly in place, was Oena Ezek.
He’d aged—44 now, his temples graying, his waistline thicker from years of good living on blood money—but still handsome in that polished, powerful way. Still the kind of man who made waiters nervous and subordinates scramble. Still a murderer.
“Ms. Okafor,” his voice boomed with false warmth. “What a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Your reputation precedes you. Abuja’s mystery mogul, they call you. The woman who came from nowhere and conquered real estate in five years.”
“Seven years, actually.” Neca shook his hand, her grip firm, professional, looking directly into the eyes of the man who’d pushed her off a cliff, feeling nothing. No fear, no love, not even hate—just cold calculation.
“But who’s counting?” He laughed, ushering her toward his office. “Please come in. Can I offer you something? Coffee, wine? We have an excellent South African vintage.”
“Water is fine.”
His office was obscene. Huge mahogany desk, leather chairs, original paintings worth more than most people earned in a lifetime. Awards and photos on the walls—Oena with governors, senators, business leaders. Oena cutting ribbons at building inaugurations. Oena accepting businessman of the year awards.
And there on the credenza behind his desk, a photo that made Neca’s carefully controlled expression nearly crack. A family portrait. Oena with Enozi, beautiful, smiling, dripping in jewelry, and three children. Three. The oldest looked about eight, a girl with Engo’s features.
Neca’s mental arithmetic was instant. Conceived before the cliff, which meant Nosi had been pregnant when she’d helped plan Neca’s murder. Had smiled in her face, knowing she was going to die.
“Beautiful family,” Neca said, her voice perfectly neutral as she accepted a bottle of water from Oena’s assistant.
“Thank you.” Oena’s smile turned softer, more genuine than anything he’d ever given Neca when they were married. “My wife Engoi and our three children. They’re my world.”
Three children. He’d killed Neca’s twins to make room for Engo’s children. Except the twins hadn’t died. They were alive, brilliant, and currently waiting in her car downstairs.
“How long have you been married?” Neca asked, settling into a chair across from his desk.
“Nine years this November. Met her when I was going through a difficult time. Lost my first wife. Tragically, hiking accident.” He said it so smoothly, like he’d told the lie a thousand times until even he believed it.
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Oena looked at her hands, at his massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Oena was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Eight: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Nine: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Ten: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Eleven: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Twelve: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Thirteen: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Fourteen: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Fifteen: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Sixteen: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Seventeen: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Eighteen: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Nineteen: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Twenty: The Reckoning Begins
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No. Should I?”
“I didn’t push her. I didn’t kill her. She made a choice. A stupid, selfish choice that left two babies dead and gave me everything I wanted.”
Neca’s vision went red. “She made a choice. Two babies dead. Gave me everything I wanted.” It took every ounce of control not to reach across the table and strangle this woman. Not to scream the truth. “I didn’t jump. You helped him plan my murder. My babies didn’t die. I’m right here.”
But not yet. Not until everything was in place.
“That’s quite a story,” Neca said, her voice remarkably steady.
“I’ve never told anyone before,” Enozi looked surprised at herself. “There’s something about you. You’re easy to talk to. Like, I can tell you anything.”
“You can.” Neca smiled. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Women in business should support each other.”
“I’d like that.” Enozi’s smile was genuine. “Lagos can be lonely when you’re at the top. People either fear you or want something from you. It’s rare to meet someone who’s actually real.”
“If only you knew how real.”
They talked for another hour. Enozi shared gossip about Lagos society, complaints about her marriage, worries about her children. Neca listened, filed away information, and planned.
When they finally parted with promises to have lunch again soon, Neca sat alone in her car and let herself shake.
Chapter Twenty-One: The Final Confrontation
She made a choice. Two babies dead. The rage was overwhelming. Her phone buzzed. Zakura.
“Mama, are you okay? You’ve been gone for three hours.”
“I’m fine. Coming home now. Tell your sister we accelerate the timeline. I can’t wait anymore. She needs to suffer now.”
She drove back to her temporary Lagos residence—a penthouse in Ecoy, naturally—where her children waited.
“What happened?” Adonna asked the moment Neca walked in.
“She thinks I jumped. Thinks I killed myself and you two because I couldn’t handle losing him.”
Neca’s voice was ice. “That must be difficult.”
“It’s pathetic,” Enozi’s voice turned hard. “She was weak, needy, desperate for his approval. When she finally got pregnant after years of trying, she became unbearable, clingy, emotional, calling him 20 times a day.”
Neca remembered those days differently. Remembered being happy, excited, wanting to share every moment of her miracle pregnancy with the husband she loved. Apparently, he’d found it annoying.
Oena told me he was planning to divorce her after the babies came. Continued that he’d fallen in love with me, that we’d be together. She laughed bitterly. “I was pregnant too. Three months. We were going to tell Neca after her delivery. Let her have the twins, then take them in the divorce. Clean break. But she died first.”
“And you got everything,” Neca said softly.
“I got everything.” Enozi looked at her hands, at her massive diamond wedding ring. “His name, his house, his bed, his children. Well, mine and his, plus two more we had together. I got the life she died trying to keep.”
“Do you feel guilty?” The question hung between them. Enozi was quiet for a long moment. Then, “No.
.
