AKILAHYEL’S POV
The following morning, the walls of my house were actively closing in on me.
Naya had gone out to run errands, leaving me with nothing but the low, continuous hum of the refrigerator and the maddeningly clean smell of lavender floor cleaner.
My body was hardwired to handle heavy resistance, to interpret physical strain as existence.
Sitting on a leather sofa watching clear fluid drip into my arm the previous day had done little to restore me; it had left me feeling hollow, fragile, and thoroughly disgusted with my own skin.
I couldn’t sit idle.
The “invalid” treatment, the quiet voices, the careful glances at my left side, the thick layers of gauze beneath my shirt — felt like a slow degradation.
I stripped down to a pair of gray tactical sweatpants, ignoring the deep, throbbing ache that radiated from my left collarbone down into my pectoral muscle.
The twelve stitches were tight, drawing the skin together in a rigid, puckered line, but I needed to feel the baseline. I needed to know that the machine still worked.
Dropping to the floorboards, I positioned my right hand firmly beneath my chest.
I kept my left arm slightly tucked, shifting seventy percent of my body weight onto my uninjured side to protect the thread, and lowered myself into a slow, deliberate single-arm push-up.
A sharp, hot wire of lightning split my shoulder on the second repetition.
My jaw clenched so hard a localized ache bloomed behind my temples. Sweat broke instantly across my forehead, dripping steadily onto the polished dark wood beneath me.
Three. Four. Five.
The heavy click of the front door opening didn’t make me break form.
I kept my eyes fixed on a single knot in the flooring, my breath coming in a low, disciplined hiss through my teeth.
“Akila! What on earth do you think you are doing?”
Soteria’s voice cut through the quiet room.
I heard her heels clicking furiously across the floorboards before she stopped directly over me, her shadow falling across my back.
I pushed myself up to a full extension, held it for a flat second, and then swung my legs around to sit heavily on the floor, resting my right wrist against my knee.
I didn’t look up at her immediately. I reached for a small hand towel on the table, wiping the sweat from my eyes while my left shoulder throbbed with a rhythmic, sickening heat.
“Hi baby,” I said with a smile. “You look beautiful.”
“Do not patronize me. I just asked you a simple question. What are you doing?”
I heaved a sigh. She looked upset.
“I’m keeping my lungs open,” I said, my voice a flat, low rumble.
“You are tearing your stitches!” she barked, her features twisting into an immediate, furious scold as she knelt down in front of me, her eyes wide with a mix of anger and absolute panic.
Her fingers reached out, trembling slightly as she grabbed the collar of my neck, pulling it aside to look at the fresh pink stain already bleeding through the white square of gauze.
BREAK IN TRANSMISSION!! DO NOT FORGET TO LIKE AND RESTACK.
THANK YOU!
“Look at this! The nurse explicitly told you to get twenty-four hours of absolute rest! Are you serious right now? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”
“Because if I don’t move this body, i will break down,” I said, my voice dropping into that quiet, stubborn tone that always made her step back.
I stood up smoothly, towering over her as I tossed the towel onto the table.
“You don’t understand how this works, babe. I’ve spent years conditioning myself to ignore the margins. If I sit on that couch for another twelve hours doing absolutely nothing but staring at the ceiling, my head goes into places it shouldn’t. I am bored out of my mind.”
“So your mental comfort is worth ripping your flesh open?” she asked, standing up to face me, her lips pressing into a hard, unyielding line.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the immense weight of her own exhaustion. The lively light that usually filled her eyes was completely gone, replaced by a cold, drawing distance that hit me harder than any bullet.
“You treat my care like a prison sentence, Akila. You think your strength is the only thing that matters. If you want to destroy yourself to prove how tough you are, do it alone. I’m not going to stay here and watch you do it.”
“Babe nau, don’t do this,” I muttered, stepping forward with my right hand extended.
“No,” she whispered, stepping back a full foot, her car keys gripped tightly in her palm.
“Do whatever you want. I am tired of nagging.”
She turned on her heel and marched out of the house, the front door closing behind her with a heavy, devastating thud that echoed through the empty living room like a gunshot.
I stood alone in the center of the room, my right hand still half-raised in the air.
The silence settled back down around me like a tomb.
A heavy, suffocating wave of regret settled into my chest. I had absolutely no idea how to tear down my defensive and independent wall without breaking her in the process.
SOTERIA’S POV
The drive to my client’s location was an exercise in pure survival.
My hands were vibrating against the steering wheel, my chest so tight with a suffocating, heavy panic that I could barely draw air into my lungs.
The trauma of my father’s sudden passing had left me emotionally shattered, and every time Akila pushed me away, every time he treated his own survival like a minor inconvenience, it felt like another anchor was being ripped out of my soul.
I was sinking, slowly, into a dark hole, and the only way I knew how to fight it was to run toward the only other thing I could control: my work.
By the time I reached the fourth floor, my face was a mask of cold corporate efficiency.
Julian stood in the plain office space.
He was dressed in a flawless, tailored charcoal jacket that draped over his broad shoulders without a single wrinkle, his silk tie perfectly straight.
A smug, lazy smile played on his lips as his eyes swept over the room before locking onto me with an intense, proprietary arrogance.
“Julian,” I said, my voice dropping into a cold whisper.
“You weren’t needed here today. We have everything sorted with the team.”
“I do not need permission to come to my own office, beautiful,” Julian said, his smooth, aristocratic tone oozing an annoying level of confidence.
I stepped into the room fully, dropping my bag on the desk.
“I wanted a firsthand status update. And frankly, I wanted to see you.”
A flash of deep, blinding irritation crossed my features. I looked up, my hands pressing flat against the glass desk.
“I am not in the mood for this today, Julian. Truly.”
Julian stepped further, his dark eyes scanning my face.
“You look tired,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a condescending, soft pity that made my stomach turn.
“Angry, even. Whoever is handling you out there clearly doesn’t know how to keep that beautiful face serene. I apologize if I came on too strong during our last meeting, Soteria.”
“Let’s make something crystal clear so you don’t waste your breath or my time ever again,” I said, my voice dropping into an absolute level of finality.
“I have a man. A real man at that. And I do not appreciate you crossing professional boundaries, making unsolicited personal remarks, or being in my face. Keep it strictly business, Julian.”
Julian paused.
For a fraction of a second, his smug expression twitched, but a soft, mocking chuckle quickly replaced it.
He stepped closer to my desk, completely unfazed by the tension radiating from my posture.
“A man,” Julian repeated, his tone dripping with an amused arrogance.
“I told you this before and I will say it again, Soteria. I really don’t care about the man you’re with. Not in the slightest. And don’t mind saying it right to his face.”
My hands clenched into tight fists against the polished wood of the desk.
“You are completely out of your mind.”
“I want you,” Julian said, his gaze darkening with an intense, possessive entitlement that made my skin crawl.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked onto mine.
“And I will stop at nothing to get you. Men like him are temporary distractions, doll. Men like me get exactly what they want.”
A bitter, furious laugh broke from my throat as I held my ground.
“I am not an object, Julian. I am not some trophy vehicle that you can ‘get’ anytime you want because your bank account allows it. You don’t own me.”
Julian didn’t flinch.
A slow, infuriating smile crept back onto his face as he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous, mocking confidence.
“Let’s see, doll.”
Immediately, my phone lit up on the desk.
The screen vibrated violently, the caller ID flashing in bold letters
My Babyyyyyy
My heart leapt into my throat.
I looked down at the phone, then slowly lifted my head, locking my eyes directly into Julian’s.
With a steady, deliberate motion, I slid the screen to answer, lifted the device to my ear, and maintained an unbroken, defiant stare dead into Julian’s face.
“Hey, baby,” I said.
My voice instantly shifted.
On the other end of the line, the silence lasted for a brief second before Akila’s voice came through.
“Babe,” Akila said quietly.
“You left the house upset. I’m... I’m sorry about earlier, my love.”
Still staring dead into Julian’s eyes, I watched the arrogant smile on his face twitch.
Julian’s jaw tightened slightly, his smug composure fracturing as he realized I was using the phone call as a direct shield to bruise his ego.
“Ohhhh. It’s fine,” I said, my tone thickening with a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion. I was still upset at him, but looking at Julian, the reality of how much I loved the man on the other end of the line vibrated through every word.
“I... I miss you so much, baby. I can’t wait to see you.”
Akila’s voice softened completely over the line, a bit surprised by the sudden, intense affection but fully giving into it.
“I miss you too, babe. I’m really sorry about earlier. When are you coming over? I’m bored out of my mind here, and I hate you being mad at me.”
“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, my eyes burning into Julian’s hardening expression.
“Just rest for me. I’ll see you the minute I’m done here. I love you.”
Julian’s face darkened with a sudden, ugly flash of pure irritation. His ego could not handle being treated like an invisible ghost.
Pushing off the edge of the desk with a heavy, aggressive movement, Julian deliberately raised his voice so it would carry clearly toward the phone’s microphone.
“Beautiful, I am going downstairs to the lobby,” Julian said, his tone loud, sharp, and dripping with a condescending sneer.
“Meet me down there when you’re completely done playing with your boy toy.”
He turned sharply on his heel, casting one last dark, possessive glance over his shoulder, and walked toward the exit, slamming the doors behind him with a resounding crash.
Inside the office, the silence from the phone was immediate, absolute, and terrifying.
Boy toy??
The soft, apologetic man on the other end of the line vanished in a single breath. I could hear the sudden shift in his breathing, a low, frozen stillness that chilled me to the marrow of my bones.
“Ziniya,” Akila said.
His voice had dropped an octave, a cold, dangerous edge cutting through the line like a razor.
“Who was that?”
My blood ran completely cold. My heart leapt into my throat, hammering against my ribs so violently I could barely breathe.
“Uhhh... it’s…. it’s nothing,” I stammered, my voice cracking as I tried to force a dismissive tone.
“Don’t... don’t worry about it, please.”
“No, no. Don’t do that,” Akila rumbled, and the deadly calm in his voice made the air feel incredibly heavy.
“I asked you a question. Who is the person referring to me as a boy toy?”
“It’s... it’s just a passerby, babe!” I panicked, my words tumoring out in a frantic bid to de-escalate a situation that was rapidly spiraling out of control.
I knew Akila was injured, but I also knew that nothing would stop him from getting into a vehicle and tracking Julian down if need be.
“He’s just a difficult client. An annoying one at that. Please, Akila, don’t worry about it. I have to handle something right now. I’ll call you the minute I’m leaving the office.”
Without giving him a single second to dissect the obvious lie or demand another answer, I slammed my finger against the screen, ending the call before my voice completely failed me.
I stood behind my desk for a full three seconds, my chest heaving.
Julian had just insulted my man, and now he had created an active threat that could shatter the fragile peace we were trying to protect.
Fuming, my vision blurred with a mix of furious tears and adrenaline, I choked back a sob of pure anger, grabbed my handbag, and stormed out of the office.
I marched down the corridor, my heels clicking like gunfire against the floorboards.
I caught up to him right at the elevator bank, where he stood waiting for the metallic doors to open, looking entirely unbothered as he adjusted his custom cuffs.
“Julian! How dare you? How dare you?” I hissed, cornering him against the large glass partition.
He turned around slowly, his expression smooth, a maddening smile playing on his lips.
“Don’t you ever, ever in your miserable life, speak like that about my man again,” I whispered, my voice shaking with a terrifying, low fury as I pointed a trembling finger at his chest.
“You have absolutely no right to insult him. Stay away from my life, Julian, or I swear to God, I will pull out of this contract completely. I don’t care what the legal penalties or the exit costs are to my firm. I will cancel this contract.”
Julian looked down at my shaking hand, then up at my face. He didn’t flinch.
He wasn’t shaken in the slightest by the threat; if anything, my explosive emotion seemed to feed his twisted sense of entitlement.
He stepped directly into my personal space, looming over me, and before I could pull my hand back, his fingers shot out with a smooth, iron grip.
He caught my right wrist, lifting my hand gently between us.
Looking straight into my burning eyes with a mocking, dangerous promise, Julian bent his head slightly.
He pressed a slow, deliberate, and irritatingly lingering peck against the back of my knuckles.
“Like I said, doll...” Julian whispered, his lips brushing against my skin as he smiled that smooth, annoying smile.
“Let’s see.”
The elevator doors chimed and slid open behind him.
He released my wrist, stepped backward into the mirrored cabin, and sank into the descent as the doors closed, leaving me standing alone in the empty corridor, absolutely fuming, upset, and terrified of the storm that was coming.
I didn’t want to go back home yet, nor head over to see Akila. I couldn’t face him in this state.
Not after the argument we had earlier in the day, and certainly not after the chilling silence that had followed Julian’s voice over the line. I needed to breathe. I needed a space where I could think.
I drove straight to Guzape, pulling into the secure gates of Amara’s residential estate. She lived in a beautiful, tucked-away development right against the rocky slopes of the district. I didn’t even bother calling ahead because I knew she was working from home today.
When I unlocked the front door with the code, the cool blast of her central air conditioning hit my face.
Amara was sitting at her dining table, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, surrounded by spreadsheets.
She took one look at my face, the tight, defensive set of my jaw, and pushed her laptop shut without a single word.
“Baby girl?” she asked, standing up immediately, her brow furrowing with instant concern.
“What happened? Why do you look like this?”
I didn’t answer right away.
I walked straight past the living room into her bedroom, tossed my handbag onto the vanity chair, and collapsed heavily onto her bed.
I let out a massive, ragged sigh that felt like it had been trapped in my chest for hours, staring up at the white ceiling.
Amara walked into the bedroom a second later, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her eyes tracking every line of exhaustion on my face.
“Talk to me nau. Why are you looking like this?”
“I am so upset, Amara,” I said, my voice tight and trembling with a mix of fury and tears.
“Julian came to the site today. Unannounced. He started coming on to me again, saying all those disgusting things he usually says. I tried to keep calm. God knows that I tried. I told him off. But guess what this idiot did. He made a completely derogatory remark about Akila.”
Amara’s posture instantly stiffened. “He did what?”
“Guy!” I hissed, a bitter, furious laugh breaking from my throat as I rolled onto my side to look at her.
“He called Akila a ‘boy toy’. And the worst part. The absolute worst part is that Akila was on the phone with me when he said it. I had picked up Akila’s call right in front of Julian to pepper him. I wanted to show him that I was taken. I was telling Akila I loved him, and that rubbish buffon just leaned in and shouted that I should meet him downstairs when I was done playing with my boy toy.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Amara groaned, running a hand over her face as she walked closer to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.
“And Akila heard him?”
“He heard every single thing,” I whispered, the panic rising in my throat again.
“Akila went completely dark. His voice dropped into that quiet, terrifying mode. He asked me who it was, and because I was panicking and knowing what he’s capable of, I stuttered, lied, and told him it was just a passerby before cutting the call. He has been calling me back continuously since, but I’ve just been rejecting the calls. I refused to pick up. Amara, I know my man. He is probably fuming right now.”
Amara reached out, patting my leg through my skirt, her voice dropping into a stabilizing, calm rhythm.
“Babe, calm down first. Just breathe. Look, Akila is not going to be mad at you. He will be mad, yes, but that anger is ninety-nine percent directed at Julian, not you.”
“I know,” I sighed heavily, burying half my face into her plush pillow.
“I know he won’t be mad at me directly, but you don’t understand the timing. We’ve had so many issues these past few days. There has been a lot of friction between us because of his stubbornness and how much he likes being independent. I’m just scared that because I walked out on him this morning while I was furious, he might get a bit insecure or distrustful now. What if he thinks I’m moving on to someone else? What if he thinks something is going on between this client and me because I tried to cover it up?”
Amara let out a short, loud chuckle, shaking her head with an amused expression.
“No na! Soteria, bikonu. Akila is a fiercely confident man. He knows exactly who he is, and he knows how much you love him. He is not that type of insecure man. Trust me on that one.”
She paused, her smile fading slightly into a more serious, realistic expression as she looked toward the window.
“The only thing I actually fear right now... is that he will track down Julian. And if he does? Guy, it really won’t be funny.”
A sudden, unexpected burst of laughter broke through my heavy mood.
I sat up on the bed, a dark, wicked grin spreading across my face as the pure mental image of the encounter hit me.
“Honestly, Amara? I pray he tracks him down!” I laughed, wiping a stray tear of frustration from my eye.
“Let him go and find him oo! Let Julian see shege since he doesn’t want to have sense in his life! He thinks because he has money,, he can just open his mouth waaahhhhh and say whatever he likes.”
Amara’s eyes sparked with mischief, a bright, matching laugh bubbling up from her chest as she leaned back against the headboard.
“No, but seriously! Normally, e suppose collect beating! A very solid, military beating to reset his carton brain!”
“Exactly!” I said. But my mind was already racing with thoughts of how upset Akila would be.
AKILAHYEL’S POV
The third time the call went straight to that automated, flat network response, I didn’t redial.
I tossed the phone onto the dining table.
I was past the point of pacing.
A hot, tight weight had settled right behind my ribs. The kind of quiet burn.
Boy toy.
Me. Captain AkilaHyel Gaya. A riffraff called me a boy toy.
I was beyond livid, and what was currently making my blood run like hot oil through my veins was the fact that Soteria had dropped the line on me.
And now, she was actively snubbing me. She had never done that before.
No matter how much we clashed, no matter how furious she got, she always picked up.
For her to slide that red button and shut me out completely meant she was either panicking or she was trying to hide whatever was happening.
My jaw clenched so hard the muscles in my temples throbbed. I grabbed my car keys from the console table.
I was already moving toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Naya’s voice cut through the living room as she stepped out of the kitchen, blocking the narrow hallway.
She took one look at my face and the car keys in my hand. Her expression instantly hardened.
She dropped her phone onto the sofa and planted herself firmly in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Move, Naya,” I said, my voice a flat, low rumble.
“I am not moving an inch, Yaro,” she shot back, her voice rising as she stepped directly into my path, forcing me to stop unless I wanted to physically walk over her.
“Look at yourself! You look like you are about to kill somebody.”
“That is none of your business. Just move out of my way” I muttered, trying to step around her, but she shifted her weight, putting her hands flat against my chest to hold me back.
“No!” she demanded, staring up at me with a mix of frustration and genuine concern. “What is wrong with you today? You’ve been acting up recently. What is the problem?”
I didn’t answer. I just stood there, my chest heaving against her palms, the heat radiating off my skin.
Seeing that I was not going to speak, Naya let out an exasperated sigh, her fingers digging into my shirt.
“Akila, please. Just sit back down. You are injured. If you drive out there right now in this state, you are going to hurt yourself. Whatever it is, let it breathe first.”
Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to get in the car and track the man down, get my woman, and have a proper conversation with her. But I knew I could not do that in the state I was.
“Fine,” I growled, ripping my keys away and tossing them back onto the table.
I stormed over to the single armchair and sat down heavily, leaning my elbows on my knees as I stared blankly at the floorboards.
The white gauze beneath my shirt was throbbing with a sickening, rhythmic heat, but the fire in my head was much worse.
Naya stood in the hallway, watching me closely to make sure I stayed put, before she finally shook her head and walked back into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the quiet.
I sat there in the dark, my thoughts spiraling into a place I hated.
For the first time, a sharp, bitter spike of insecurity pierced through my anger.
We had been fighting so much these past few days.
Was she tired of it? Was she moving on to someone else?
The thought made my stomach twist, but I immediately shook my head, trying to beat the idea out of my mind.
No. Not Soteria.
But then the darker thoughts crawled in. I knew she had lived a rough, wild life before she gave her life to Christ.
What if all this stress, the grief of losing her father, and the friction between us were pushing her back into that old life?
What if she was slipping away, back to the things and the people she used to know?
Is she cheating?
The question flashed in my mind, cold and ugly.
My spirit immediately rejected it. My gut beat me up for even letting the thought cross my brain.
No. Soteria wouldn’t do that to me.
She loved me; I was sure of that.
But if there was nothing to hide, why wasn’t she picking up? Why was she shutting me out?
I slammed my fist against my knee, the anger returning ten times hotter, burning away the confusion.
I didn’t care who the guy was or what kind of games he thought he was playing.
She was mine.
I was going to find out exactly who he was. And when I did, it wasn’t going to be funny for him.
God abeg….
At this rate, our ship is about to capsize.
I pity Julian. The moment Akila gets a hold of him, he is dead.
See y’all on friday.
Omo. Real fire on the mountain o😩
Which kain mumu audacity this Julian guy get?😂😭
I understand that she was afraid but Soteria should have gone straight to Akila though.
Soteria where is julians 'slap ??