The Therapist: Chapter 19

The wind in Johannesburg carried a different scent than Lagos—crisp, dry, and untouched by the weight of her past. Claire Adebayo leaned against the balcony of her new penthouse, a glass of wine in hand, watching the city lights flicker below. A new country. A new life. A new Claire.

But freedom, she had learned, wasn’t about escape. It was about control. And now, for the first time in years, she was the one in control.

One week earlier: The morning after the bloodshed, Claire sat in the private office of Victor’s estate lawyer. The chaos of his empire’s fall had left many scrambling, but one thing remained unchanged: Victor Adebayo had never trusted anyone but himself.

And Claire.

The lawyer, an older man with weary eyes and a perfectly tailored suit, slid the documents across the mahogany desk. “Mrs. Adebayo, as you are the sole signatory on all of Mr. Adebayo’s legal and financial accounts, the assets now transfer to you.”

Claire picked up the papers, barely hearing his words. She had expected resistance, legal battles, but no. Victor’s paranoia had worked in her favor. He had always been too careful, too distrustful to allow anyone but his wife access to his accounts.

“How much?” she asked, her voice even.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat. “Liquid assets in excess of ₦9 billion. Additional offshore holdings and properties bring the total to—”

Claire stopped listening. She had more money than she had ever dreamed of. More than she and Daniel had ever fantasized about when they were younger.

Daniel.

She folded the papers neatly, pressing her hands against them to still the slight tremble. She had everything she needed. It was time to disappear.

Within days, Claire liquidated every asset she could. Properties, businesses, luxury cars—gone. She was ruthless, offloading Victor’s empire piece by piece, ensuring that nothing tied her to him remained. The art collection, the penthouse, even the fleet of high-end cars Victor had once obsessed over—she stripped it all away, turning every possession into untraceable funds.

Baba Jide, predictably, had tried to make a move, sending intermediaries with threats disguised as negotiations. But Claire had anticipated that. She paid off the right people, covered her tracks, and ensured that when she finally vanished, no one—not Baba Jide, not Marcus, not Lagos itself—could find her.

And Daniel?

Daniel was beginning to feel like another loose end.

Johannesburg was not Lagos. It lacked the suffocating weight of expectation, the knowing glances, the whispers of her past. Here, she was not Claire Adebayo, the widow of a fallen king. Here, she was someone else entirely.

The first week was exhilarating. The air was fresher. The sky stretched wider. She moved through the streets with a freedom she hadn’t felt in years.

Daniel arrived soon after. He had insisted on joining her, playing the part of the devoted first love, whispering promises of the life they had always dreamed of. And for a while, Claire let him. She let him believe they were finally free. That this was their fresh start.

But Claire had changed.

The girl who had once been willing to follow love anywhere was gone. The woman standing in her place had learned that survival was about power. And Daniel… Daniel wanted to be in control.

She saw the signs immediately—the possessiveness in his voice when she made decisions without him, the subtle attempts to weave himself into her finances. He thought he was being clever, that she was still blinded by their history.

He was wrong.

One evening, over dinner in a private rooftop restaurant, Daniel leaned in, his voice smooth. “Claire, we need to talk about our next move. We should start investing in—”

“Our?” she interrupted, taking a slow sip of wine.

Daniel blinked, his mask slipping for just a second. “Well, yes. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Claire smiled, the kind of smile that had once fooled Victor. “Of course.”

But that night, she moved half of her funds into a private account he didn’t know about. By morning, she had cut him out of everything.

Claire had spent years being controlled—by her father, by Victor, even by the naive dreams of love she had once shared with Daniel. No more.

As she stood on the balcony of her new home, staring out at the Johannesburg skyline, she felt something stir within her. Not fear. Not regret.

Power.

The world had been unkind to her, but she had learned how to adapt, how to bend chaos to her will. She had thought she wanted freedom, but now she realized she wanted something else.

Control.

And now, she had it.

For the first time, Claire Adebayo was truly free. But what she would do with that freedom?

That was yet to be decided.