BABY MAMA TRAP
PART 1
The loud music from Club Lavish pounded in Onyinye’s ears as she stepped inside, the bass vibrating through her whole body. The air smelled like expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. She adjusted the tight red dress that clung to her curves, feeling both nervous and excited. Her best friends, Amaka and Chioma, had dragged her out tonight, saying, "Onyi, you’re too young to be sitting at home every weekend! Come and have fun!"
So here she was—Onyinye Obi, 24 years old, a bank teller with big dreams, standing in the middle of Asaba’s most popular nightclub. She wasn’t the type to do things like this. She was careful. She was smart. But tonight… tonight, she just wanted to forget about her problems.
Then she saw him.
Tall. Dark. Handsome. Dressed in a black designer suit that screamed money. His gold Rolex glinted under the flashing club lights as he sipped his drink. He stood near the VIP section, surrounded by men who laughed too loud at everything he said—like he was some kind of king.
Their eyes met.
A slow, confident smile spread across his face.
Onyinye quickly looked away, her heart beating fast. She knew who he was—Chief Kolawole Adebayo, a rich businessman, married with three kids. She had seen his family photos in Hello Nigeria magazine. His wife was beautiful, always dressed in expensive lace, smiling beside him at parties.
But right now, in this club, with the music thumping and the alcohol flowing, none of that mattered.
He walked toward her.
And like a moth drawn to a flame, she let him.
Three Hours Later
The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the city outside the window. Onyinye lay in the soft bed, her body still humming from what had just happened. Chief Kolawole—no, Kola—lay beside her, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare arm.
"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice deep and smooth. "I’ve never met a woman like you."
She knew she should feel guilty. She knew he had a wife at home. But in that moment, with his warm body pressed against hers, she let herself believe his lies.
"This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing," he said, kissing her shoulder. "We can keep seeing each other. Just you and me."
Onyinye’s heart fluttered. Was he serious?
Then his phone rang.
The screen lit up—"WIFE" in bold letters.
Kolawole sighed, sitting up. He answered the call, his voice suddenly sweet, loving—completely different from the way he had just spoken to her.
"Yes, darling… No, I’m still at the meeting… I’ll be home soon."
He hung up and stood, pulling on his clothes without looking at her.
"I have to go,"* he said, tossing a few bills on the bedside table. *"For your taxi."
And just like that, he was gone.
Onyinye sat there, staring at the money, feeling ******. Used.
What did I just do?
Six Weeks Later
The bathroom was silent except for the sound of Onyinye’s shaky breaths. She stared at the little white stick in her hand, her stomach twisting in fear.
Two pink lines.
Pregnant.
Her mind raced. *How? They used protection… didn’t they?
She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering that night—the way Kolawole had whispered in her ear, the way he had made her feel special.
Now, she was carrying the baby of a man who didn’t even care about her.
A man who would *never* claim this child.
(To be continued…)
BABY MAMA TRAP
PART 1
The loud music from Club Lavish pounded in Onyinye’s ears as she stepped inside, the bass vibrating through her whole body. The air smelled like expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. She adjusted the tight red dress that clung to her curves, feeling both nervous and excited. Her best friends, Amaka and Chioma, had dragged her out tonight, saying, "Onyi, you’re too young to be sitting at home every weekend! Come and have fun!"
So here she was—Onyinye Obi, 24 years old, a bank teller with big dreams, standing in the middle of Asaba’s most popular nightclub. She wasn’t the type to do things like this. She was careful. She was smart. But tonight… tonight, she just wanted to forget about her problems.
Then she saw him.
Tall. Dark. Handsome. Dressed in a black designer suit that screamed money. His gold Rolex glinted under the flashing club lights as he sipped his drink. He stood near the VIP section, surrounded by men who laughed too loud at everything he said—like he was some kind of king.
Their eyes met.
A slow, confident smile spread across his face.
Onyinye quickly looked away, her heart beating fast. She knew who he was—Chief Kolawole Adebayo, a rich businessman, married with three kids. She had seen his family photos in Hello Nigeria magazine. His wife was beautiful, always dressed in expensive lace, smiling beside him at parties.
But right now, in this club, with the music thumping and the alcohol flowing, none of that mattered.
He walked toward her.
And like a moth drawn to a flame, she let him.
Three Hours Later
The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the city outside the window. Onyinye lay in the soft bed, her body still humming from what had just happened. Chief Kolawole—no, Kola—lay beside her, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare arm.
"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice deep and smooth. "I’ve never met a woman like you."
She knew she should feel guilty. She knew he had a wife at home. But in that moment, with his warm body pressed against hers, she let herself believe his lies.
"This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing," he said, kissing her shoulder. "We can keep seeing each other. Just you and me."
Onyinye’s heart fluttered. Was he serious?
Then his phone rang.
The screen lit up—"WIFE" in bold letters.
Kolawole sighed, sitting up. He answered the call, his voice suddenly sweet, loving—completely different from the way he had just spoken to her.
"Yes, darling… No, I’m still at the meeting… I’ll be home soon."
He hung up and stood, pulling on his clothes without looking at her.
"I have to go,"* he said, tossing a few bills on the bedside table. *"For your taxi."
And just like that, he was gone.
Onyinye sat there, staring at the money, feeling stupid. Used.
What did I just do?
Six Weeks Later
The bathroom was silent except for the sound of Onyinye’s shaky breaths. She stared at the little white stick in her hand, her stomach twisting in fear.
Two pink lines.
Pregnant.
Her mind raced. *How? They used protection… didn’t they?
She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering that night—the way Kolawole had whispered in her ear, the way he had made her feel special.
Now, she was carrying the baby of a man who didn’t even care about her.
A man who would *never* claim this child.
(To be continued…)
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