The Therapist

The atmosphere inside Marcus Oladipo’s office was suffocating. A heavy silence hung in the air as Claire sat across from Victor, her eyes cold but calculating. Victor, as usual, exuded his unshakable confidence, though Marcus could see the tension in his clenched jaw and the way his fingers drummed against the arm of the chair.

Marcus was exhausted. He had been walking a tightrope for too long, and today felt like the moment it would all come crashing down.

And then, the door burst open.

Baba Jide strode in like a force of nature, his expensive suit doing little to soften the raw menace he carried with him. His two enforcers followed, their expressions stone-cold and unreadable. The air instantly thickened with a tangible sense of danger.

“Doctor,” Baba Jide said smoothly, though his eyes held none of his usual charm. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Marcus swallowed hard, rising from his chair. “Baba Jide, this isn’t the—”

Baba Jide’s hand shot up, cutting him off. “I’m not here for your excuses, Oladipo. I want my money. And I want it now.” His gaze shifted to Victor. “And it seems our mutual friend here might have some answers.”

Victor leaned back, crossing his legs with deliberate ease. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Baba Jide’s lips curled into a humorless smile. “Let’s not play games, Victor. I know you. You don’t like debts hanging over your head, and neither do I.”

Claire, sitting quietly until now, suddenly spoke up. “Victor, tell him the truth,” she said, her voice measured and icy.

Victor’s eyes darted to Claire, suspicion flickering across his face. “What truth, Claire?”

Claire stood slowly, walking to the side of the room, her posture poised and elegant. “That you’ve been laundering money through your offshore accounts. That you’ve been siphoning funds from your so-called business empire.”

Marcus’s heart pounded. This was dangerous territory.

Victor’s face darkened, but before he could respond, Baba Jide’s eyes narrowed on Claire. “You have my attention, Mrs. Adebayo.”

Claire glanced at Marcus, then turned back to Baba Jide with a calm smile. “Victor isn’t as clean as he likes to pretend. The deals he’s been making? They’re only benefiting him. You think he’s a friend, but he’s been keeping the best cuts for himself.”

Victor shot to his feet. “Claire, shut your mouth.”

Baba Jide’s smile widened, but his eyes burned with deadly curiosity. “Is that so, Victor?”

Marcus stepped in, raising his hands. “Gentlemen, let’s not turn this into something it doesn’t need to be.” His voice wavered, but he pushed on. “We can work this out. Victor can settle the debt.”

Victor turned on Marcus, his eyes blazing. “You’re in no position to negotiate anything, Doctor.”

Baba Jide’s enforcers took a step forward, and Victor’s hand twitched toward his pocket—Marcus didn’t doubt there was a gun hiding there. The room felt like a lit fuse about to explode.

Claire took another calculated step forward. “You see, Baba Jide, Victor’s been hiding assets—millions. Offshore accounts under fake company names. I have proof.”

Marcus’s breath hitched. She was going for the kill.

Victor’s face was a mixture of rage and panic, and for the first time, Marcus saw cracks in his armor.

Baba Jide’s gaze never wavered from Victor. “Proof?”

Claire nodded confidently. “You’ll have it.”

Baba Jide’s expression hardened. “I’ll give you 24 hours to hand over everything you have, Claire. If I like what I see, Victor—” He turned to the visibly seething man. “We’ll be renegotiating our arrangement.”

Victor’s nostrils flared, but he knew he was cornered.

Marcus took a deep breath. “There’s no need for threats. We can—”

Baba Jide’s glare silenced him instantly. “I’m done being patient, Doctor. You should pray Claire delivers, or we’ll be having a very different conversation.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving the office as abruptly as he had entered, his men following closely behind.

The door shut, and silence reigned once more.

Victor’s eyes bore into Claire. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

Claire met his gaze without flinching. “I know exactly what I’ve done.”

Marcus wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, feeling the weight of the moment crashing down on him. He was more trapped than ever, now caught in a war between Victor and Baba Jide.

And Claire? She wasn’t just looking for an escape anymore—she was playing for keeps.