A muffled scream rips from my throat as an arm locks around my waist. The scent of sweat and something metallic fills my nostrils. My heart pounds.
"Stay still," a low voice growls as I struggle to break free. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
I thrash, kicking wildly, but he's too strong. The car lurches forward, tinted windows swallowing the outside world. My stomach clenches. I should have trusted my instincts.
Tears blur my vision as I claw at the rough hand covering my mouth. He barely flinches. Instead, something cold presses against my ribs—a knife.
"One more move, and you'll regret it."
My breath hitches. The driver glances at us through the rearview mirror.
"She secure?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
Terror surges through me. What wrong have I done this time to merit a promotion from sexual abuse to kidnapping?
"Where are you taking me?" My voice comes out strangled when the hand finally loosens from my mouth. "If Alhaji sent you I swear—"
The driver chuckles. "Oh, sweetheart, the world doesn't revolve around Alhaji."
The car turns sharply, leaving the smooth roads behind. Gravel crunches beneath the tires. We're going off the main road. This is bad.
I glance at the door handle. Locked. Of course.
The man beside me clicks his tongue as he notices where I'm looking. "Don't even think about it."
Ali. He'll realize something's wrong if he gets back from the meeting and can't find me. He'll come looking for me. I have to hold onto that hope.
The car slows, then stops. My pulse pounds as the driver turns, dark eyes boring into mine.
"Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Usman."
The back door swings open, and a rough hand yanks me out. My feet stumble on uneven ground, gravel biting into my soles.
I barely register the crumbling compound before a cloth bag is shoved over my head.
Darkness swallows me whole.
⸻
I wake to silence.
A cold, hard floor presses against my back. My wrists sting—tied up. My breathing quickens as my eyes adjust to the dim light. The walls are painted in unsettling shades of black and red, strange artifacts cluttering the corners. A metallic scent lingers. Blood? Rust?
I try to move, body trembling. Panic claws at my chest.
"Help!" My scream echoes. "Somebody help me!"
Silence.
Then—footsteps.
A shadow moves toward me. A man, broad-shouldered, walking casually, like he has all the time in the world.
Tears blur my vision. "Please, don't hurt me! I'll give you anything—Alhaji will pay whatever you want!"
He chuckles.
Another figure emerges from the shadows. The driver.
"You—" My voice wavers. "I know you. From Ayo's homecoming."
He tilts his head, amused. "Good memory."
I swallow. "Who are you?"
"Doesn't matter," he says, crouching. "But if you must know—Alhaji is my uncle."
My blood runs cold.
He smirks. "You don't know, do you? Your dear husband parades his wealth while his real family suffers. I asked for help. He ignored me. My siblings are starving, yet their uncle is a billionaire." His voice hardens as he stares down at me. "That's why you're here."
A vendetta.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. "You—you're doing this for money?"
He grins. "Smart girl. I don't want to kill you, I just need two hundred million naira to leave this country. Once I have it, you're free."
Two hundred million. A lot, but for Alhaji? He can afford it. The question is, will he be willing to? That money can buy him ten more brides if he desires.
But then another thought strikes.
I shift, whispering, "But I've seen your face. Why would you let me go?"
His laughter is almost fond. "Let him find me, I'm his blood. What's he going to do? Get me arrested? I don't mind jail if it means I get what I deserve." He shrugs. "Besides, I have younger sisters your age. I don't hurt women."
I search his face for deception but find none.
So, I do the only thing I can. I pull my knees to my chest and stay silent. If this is about money, there's still hope.
⸻
The first night passes in agonizing silence.
They've taken my phone. No way to call for help.
Is Alhaji looking for me? Does Ali know? He promised to check on me after his appointment. Has he noticed I'm gone?
Or is Alhaji relieved?
The next day, they hand me a tiny burner phone.
"Call him."
I take the phone with trembling fingers, dialing the number on the screen. My breath is shallow as the line rings.
The moment Alhaji's voice comes through, I nearly break down.
"Where are you?" His tone is sharp, impatient.
"I've been kidnapped," I choke out. "They—they want money, Alhaji. Please—"
"How did they get you?"
I hesitate.
"I—I went for a stroll."
Silence. A heavy, suffocating silence.
Then his voice drops, dangerously calm. "Who gave you permission to stroll?"
Tears prick my eyes. How am I supposed to know that strolling through the estate is a crime?
Alhaji exhales slowly. "Since you believe you have wings to move freely without my permission or your senior wife's, then I have no business with you."
My breath catches.
"The kidnappers can kill you if they want to."
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone, my heart pounding in disbelief.
No. No, this can't be real.
Tears blur my vision as I clutch the small phone in my hands. He abandoned me. Just like that.
Before I can process the betrayal, the man beside me snatches the phone, dials the same line and speaks into it, his voice suddenly bright and cheerful.
He greets Alhaji in Hausa.
And then—to my horror, Alhaji laughs.
"Ah," Alhaji says, a smile in his voice. "Dan ta'adda."
My stomach drops.
Terrorist.
I turn to the man beside me, my breath quick and shallow.
What does that mean?