Brevity Bard

Marcus Oladipo sat in his office, the notepad on his desk filled with cryptic notes, arrows, and hastily scribbled ideas. It was a web of connections, a chaotic map of his thoughts as he tried to navigate the precarious situation he’d landed in. Victor wanted his marriage saved, or at least to regain control over Claire. Claire, on the other hand, had all but handed him an invitation to sabotage the marriage, dangling the promise of a hefty payoff if she could secure her divorce. And looming over all of it was Baba Jide, whose men had made it clear just days ago that Marcus’s time was running out. For a moment, Marcus closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. The faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant sounds of Lagos traffic outside his window did little to ease the pressure in his chest. This wasn’t just a balancing act—it was a deadly tightrope. Victor arrived first for their second session. Punctual as ever, he walked into the office with his usual commanding presence, h...

The morning was uncharacteristically humid, even for Lagos. Marcus adjusted the tie around his neck for the third time as he glanced at the clock on his desk. His nerves were on edge. This wasn’t just another therapy session; it was the first step in his gamble to save his life. Victor and Claire Adebayo were scheduled to arrive any minute, and he needed to ensure this session played out perfectly. His office was impeccably arranged, every detail deliberate. The couch cushions were fluffed, the bottled water chilled, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. The environment was supposed to convey calm and trust, though Marcus felt neither. At precisely 10:00 a.m., the knock came. Marcus stood, smoothing the front of his shirt before opening the door. Victor entered first, his presence as commanding as ever. He was dressed in another tailored suit, his expression a mix of cool control and subtle irritation. Claire followed, her movements slower, more deliberate. She wore a si...

Marcus Oladipo sat behind his desk in his modest office, staring at the blank notepad in front of him. The elegant simplicity of the space—a soft beige couch for clients, calming blue curtains, and a neatly arranged bookshelf—once felt like a testament to his professionalism. Now, it felt like a stage, where he had to perform miracles not for his clients, but for his own survival. The Adebayo case was his last shot, his lifeline. Victor Adebayo’s call a few days before had been unexpected, but Marcus quickly recognized the opportunity. This wasn’t just another couple in crisis; this was a wealthy, high-profile duo with resources that could solve his problem. If he played his cards right, he could secure enough money to settle his debt with Baba Jide and maybe even reclaim some semblance of peace. He flipped open the notepad and began jotting down ideas. His first session with the Adebayos was scheduled for the next day, and he needed a plan. Claire’s motives were clear from Victor’s br...

The grand Adebayo mansion, perched in the heart of Ikoyi, Lagos, gleamed under the morning sun. It was an architectural marvel of glass and marble, surrounded by perfectly manicured gardens. Inside, the air hummed with the quiet efficiency of a well-oiled machine—maids moving silently, a chef preparing breakfast, and the distant hum of Victor Adebayo’s favorite classical music playing through hidden speakers. Claire Adebayo sat at the dining table, a half-eaten slice of toast on her plate. She barely registered the taste of the imported jam spread thinly on her bread or the fresh-squeezed orange juice in the crystal glass. Her mind was elsewhere, far removed from the luxury surrounding her. Her gaze wandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the garden, where the roses bloomed in neat rows. The perfection of it all felt stifling, as though the house itself conspired with Victor to keep her caged. Victor strode into the room, his presence commanding as always. Dressed in a...

The rain lashed against the windshield of Dr. Marcus Oladipo’s aging Toyota Corolla as he navigated the chaotic streets of Lagos. Traffic crawled at its usual snail’s pace, and the blaring horns from impatient drivers mixed with the relentless sound of the downpour. The dampness in the air seeped into the car, but Marcus hardly noticed. His mind was far from the chaotic roads of Ikeja; it was firmly locked on the problem that had been gnawing at his sanity for weeks. Seventy-five million naira. The number loomed in his thoughts like a specter, haunting every waking moment and invading his dreams. Just a year ago, he had been one of the city’s most sought-after marriage therapists, with a reputation for salvaging even the most fractured relationships. His clients ranged from prominent politicians to celebrities, all willing to pay exorbitant fees for his services. But now, that life felt like a distant memory. It had started innocently enough. A friend—if Marcus could even call him that...