Catch up here…
4 Weeks!
In four weeks, you finally get to read Obinna and Rot’s story!
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Happy reading!
OBINNA
THE WEST AFRICA EXPANSION MEETING is twenty-seven minutes old, and I’m calculating the many ways I can destroy the ex-NLRC regulator without leaving fingerprints.
“The NLRC complaint has pushed back Ghana by six weeks,” Taiwo, head of legal, says. “His regulatory contacts are… sympathetic.”
Sympathetic. What a word for bribery.
“Push the appeal anyway. Get me a meeting with Commissioner Adeyanju.”
“Sir, I don’t think—”
“That was not a request.”
Chuks appears in the doorway with hunched shoulders and a tight jaw.
“Meeting adjourned.”
The legal team files out. Chuks waits until the door closes behind the last one before stepping inside and locking it.
“What.”
“That SageMedia Network journalist. Miss Nentawe. She’s been taken.”
“By who?” He has my full attention now.
“Dala’s people. The secondary operation—the one running the match-fixing through the Ivory Coast league.” Chuks looks pissed and sympathetic at the same time, which is a peculiar combination on his face. “In her digging, I think she found the wrong thread. Followed it sideways instead of straight. Ended up in Dala’s business—”
“They think she’s fair game.”
“Looks that way, sir.” Chuks hesitates. “Or they think she’s connected to you. There are rumors already. If they believe she’s digging on your behalf, taking her sends a message to both of you.”
Dumb fools. All of them. Dala and his entourage of nincompoops.
Dala sees a journalist digging into his operations and assumes I’m the one holding the shovel. Because that’s what he would do. Hell, it’s what most of us would do.
“Where is she?”
“A warehouse in Oregun. One of Dala’s lieutenants—Kingsley—runs it. Small-time muscle. Big-time ego.”
She’s not my asset. If I do nothing, Dala’s people send their message and release her. Bruised, probably. Scared, definitely. She’ll drop the investigation or she won’t—but either way, it’s not my problem.
If I intervene…
“How long has she been there?”
“Three hours, maybe four.”
Three hours zip-tied to a chair. I know what that does to a person. I know because I’ve been on the other side of it—not the chair, but the room. Watching men break down, cry, beg, bargain. Watching the moment they realize that nobody is coming.
She’s not mine. But if I get her out, she owes me.
I curve my lips into a devious smile.
“Chuks.”
“Ódògwù?”
“Get the Kingsley guy on the phone.”
The call connects on the third ring.
“Ódògwù PuntPlay here,” Chuks says as introduction.
“Ódògwù…” Kingsley’s voice is thick—Mbaise boy trying to sound Lagos. “To what do I owe—”
“Tell me you’ve not done something irrevocable to her.”
Silence. Calculating silence.
Kingsley isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t be running Dala’s muscle if he were.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tshew… I overestimated the fool.
“The woman in your warehouse,” I say, my patience thinning. “The journalist. You have her because you think she belongs to me.”
I let that sink.
“And if I did?”
My jaw tightens.
“Then you’ve made a very expensive mistake.”
“Ódògwù, she’s putting her nose where she has no busi—”
“She’s a journalist. Asking questions is her job description.”
“You know that’s not what this is.”
“What I know,” I say evenly, “is that if a single hair on her head is out of place, this conversation becomes much more complicated for everyone involved.”
Kingsley laughs.
It’s the wrong response. I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself to stay patient.
“I’m on my way to get her, and you’re going to hand her over. I’m calling to tell you how that’s going to happen.”
Stunned silence. Then a short, disbelieving laugh.
“Why would I do that? I don’t answer to you. Dala is—”
“Tell Dala I know about Ivory Coast. And the Ghanaian clubs. The three he’s been running scores through since February. Tell him I have the bank records. Tell him the only reason the EFCC hasn’t knocked on his door is because I haven’t decided whether to be the one knocking.”
I let that settle.
“Then tell him the journalist is under my protection now. If he has questions, he can call me himself.”
Silence.
Longer this time.
“Ódògwù,” Kingsley says carefully, “she’s not worth this. She’s just a girl with—”
I close my eyes briefly.
Just a girl.
This is the thing with people who lack foresight.
If only he knew.
“Let me make this simple for you,” I say. “Whether you think she’s important or not is irrelevant. She’s leverage. And I don’t allow other people to hold what’s mine.”
Muffled voices fill the line, as though he’s covering the phone and consulting someone nearby.
When he comes back, his tone has changed.
“Fine. Come collect your leverage. But Dala won’t forget this.”
“Tell Dala I’m counting on it.”
I end the call.
Chuks reaches for his other phone. “I’ll get the team to—”
“You’re coming with me.”
His stare flicks up. He’s right to be confused. Sending Chuks is my usual play.
This is strategy, nothing more. I need to oversee the handoff. Make sure nothing slips.
Truth? I want to witness the moment she understands she owes me.
40+ Chapters to go…
Releases September 30, 2026.
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