The Therapist

Claire Adebayo stood in Baba Jide’s lavish penthouse, the city lights of Lagos glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The faint hum of jazz music played in the background, but the tension in the room was razor-sharp.

Baba Jide sat across from her, sipping a glass of scotch, his expression unreadable. His two enforcers loomed in the shadows, their presence a silent reminder of the danger Claire was inviting into her life.

“You want me to take Victor out,” Baba Jide finally said, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement. “And in return, you’re offering me what? A divorce payout?”

Claire smiled coolly, masking the fear thrumming beneath her skin. “Not just the payout,” she said. “I can give you access to his businesses. His offshore accounts. All the assets he’s been hiding from you.”

Baba Jide studied her for a long moment, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “You’re a bold woman, Claire. But tell me…” He leaned forward, his eyes piercing. “Why should I trust you?”

Claire’s heart pounded, but she maintained her poise. “Because I have nothing to lose,” she replied. “Victor has controlled me for too long. I want out, and I’m willing to give you everything to make that happen.”

Baba Jide chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “And what makes you think I won’t just take everything from you instead?”

Claire’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Because you’re smarter than that, Jide. You don’t need a war—you need leverage. And I can give it to you.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, then Baba Jide leaned back in his chair. “You’ve got guts, Claire. I’ll give you that.” He set his glass down with a thud. “Alright. You get me the documents, the financial records—everything. Once I have proof, we’ll talk about Victor’s... departure.”

Claire exhaled slowly, her hands steady despite the storm raging inside her. “You’ll have them soon.”

Baba Jide nodded toward the door. “You better deliver, Mrs. Adebayo. If you waste my time, you won’t like how this ends.”

Claire swallowed her fear and walked out, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The deal was done. Now all she had to do was survive it.

Meanwhile, Marcus sat alone in his office, his head buried in his hands. He was trapped—no longer just a marriage therapist, but a pawn in a deadly game he never signed up for.

The walls of his office seemed to close in on him, every shadow feeling like a threat. Baba Jide’s enforcers had made their presence known, Claire was dragging him deeper into her dangerous plot, and Victor… Victor was far from defeated.

Marcus rubbed his temples, staring at the burner phone Claire had given him earlier. She had filled him in on her plan to use Baba Jide against Victor, but something about it didn’t sit right. Claire was playing with fire, and Marcus knew he was the one who would get burned if things went south.

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone. A message from Victor.

“We need to talk. Tonight. No excuses.”

Marcus’s stomach clenched. He couldn’t keep juggling both sides much longer. Victor wasn’t a fool—he had to know Claire was up to something.

But what worried Marcus the most was that Victor wasn’t acting like a man in retreat.

At Victor’s private estate, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Marcus sat across from Victor in the sprawling study, surrounded by leather-bound books and the faint scent of expensive cigars.

Victor leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the desk. “You’ve been watching Claire closely, haven’t you, Doctor?”

Marcus swallowed hard. “I’m trying to help, Victor. That’s what you hired me for.”

Victor smirked. “Don’t play me, Marcus. I know she’s working with Baba Jide.”

Marcus froze, his mind scrambling for an escape. “Victor, I—”

Victor waved him off. “Save it. I have my own people. I know what’s happening.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out a stack of papers, sliding them toward Marcus.

Marcus hesitated before picking them up. His eyes widened as he scanned the pages—detailed records of Claire’s meetings, her secret bank transfers, even a list of her suspected contacts.

“She thinks she’s smart,” Victor mused. “But she’s forgetting who I am.”

Marcus looked up at him. “So what are you going to do?”

Victor smiled, cold and calculating. “Fight back. And I want you to help me.”

Marcus stiffened. “Victor, I—”

“You don’t have a choice,” Victor said smoothly. “Either you work with me and get out of this alive, or you go down with her.”

Marcus felt the noose tighten around his neck. “What do you want me to do?”

Victor leaned back in his chair. “Keep playing both sides. Feed Claire what she needs to believe she’s winning. But when the time comes, I’ll need you to make sure I’m the one who comes out on top.”

Marcus’s throat was dry. He nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his own impending doom.

As Marcus left Victor’s estate, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were spiraling beyond his control. Claire was playing a dangerous game, and now Victor was ready to fight back.

Baba Jide wasn’t a man who liked to be deceived, and Marcus knew that the next few days would determine whether he walked away from this alive—or ended up as collateral damage.

The deadly alliance had been set in motion, and there was no stopping it now.