The Therapist

The echoes of gunfire faded, leaving only the crackling sound of flames consuming the remnants of Marcus Oladipo’s once-cozy office. Smoke billowed from shattered windows, blending with the dim light of Lagos’s night skyline.

Marcus and Claire ran through the shadowed streets, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they darted down an alley, away from the carnage they had left behind.

“Keep moving!” Marcus urged, pulling Claire’s arm as she stumbled.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” Claire gasped, clutching the folder of evidence tightly against her chest.

“We can’t stop now,” Marcus said, his voice a mix of desperation and exhaustion. “They’ll find us if we do.”

Behind them, the chaos at Marcus’s office continued to unfold. Victor’s men and Baba Jide’s enforcers were locked in a brutal confrontation, but the scales were tipping. Victor’s empire, already riddled with betrayal and lies, was crumbling under the weight of Baba Jide’s calculated onslaught.

Back at the office, Victor was cornered. His once-loyal men lay sprawled across the floor, casualties of Baba Jide’s relentless attack. The mob boss stood over him, his eyes gleaming with cold triumph.

“You thought you could outplay me, Victor,” Baba Jide said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You forgot who you were dealing with.”

Victor clutched his side, blood seeping through his fingers. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed.

Baba Jide laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “The only thing I regret is not taking you out sooner.”

Victor reached for his gun, but one of Baba Jide’s enforcers was faster. A single shot rang out, silencing Victor Adebayo for good. His body collapsed to the ground, his empire reduced to ashes in an instant.

Baba Jide exhaled slowly, adjusting his suit as if brushing off the remnants of a mild inconvenience. “Clean this up,” he ordered his men. “And find the doctor and his little accomplice. They have something I want.”

Marcus and Claire finally came to a stop in a dark, abandoned lot on the outskirts of the city. Marcus leaned against a wall, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Claire sank to the ground, clutching the folder like a lifeline.

“It’s over,” Marcus said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

Claire looked up at him, her eyes haunted. “No, it’s not. Baba Jide will come for us. You know that.”

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. She was right. Baba Jide wouldn’t rest until he had Victor’s empire—and anyone tied to it.

“What do we do now?” Claire asked, her voice trembling.

Marcus stared into the darkness, the weight of their situation pressing down on him. “We disappear,” he said finally. “We leave Lagos. Start over somewhere else.”

Claire shook her head. “Do you really think we can outrun this?”

“We have to try,” Marcus said, his voice firm. “There’s nothing left for us here.”

The following morning, the news spread across Lagos like wildfire. Victor Adebayo was dead. His empire, once untouchable, had fallen into Baba Jide’s hands.

The city’s underworld buzzed with speculation about what would come next. Baba Jide’s dominance was now unquestionable, and anyone who dared challenge him knew the consequences.

But in the quiet corners of the city, whispers began to circulate about the two people who had been at the center of the chaos. Marcus and Claire.

Days later, Marcus and Claire sat in a small roadside diner in a quiet town far from the chaos of Lagos. They had ditched their phones, paid cash for everything, and used fake names.

Marcus stirred his coffee absently, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt and regret. “Do you think this will ever end?”

Claire stared out the window, her expression distant. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But at least we’re alive.”

Marcus nodded, though the weight of everything they had lost—and everything they had done—hung heavy between them.

For now, they had escaped. But the scars of what had happened in that office, and the lives that were lost, would stay with them forever.

And deep down, they both knew that Baba Jide wouldn’t forget them.