HOW TO TAKE YOUR SODA DRINKS IN A WAY IT WON'T AFFECT YOU

Do This And Thank Me Later.

WARNING: If you skip any of these steps, you kiss your health goodbye.


Step 1: Buy any of the Soda drinks. Ensure it's chilled.

Step 2: Take it to the kitchen.

Step 3: Grab a glass cup (don't drink directly from the bottle and don't use straw).

Step 4: Pour into the glass cup and allow it to settle for 2 minutes.

Step 5: Ensure there are no fizzy bubbles anymore.

Step 6: Cover it.

Step 7: Carry it to your toilet and pour round the inside of the toilet.

Step 8: Get a toilet brush, add some little soap and scrub the toilet.


Mama Sadé, stop sipping confusion.

You have zobo, fenugreek tea, saffron tea E.t.c.


If this slaps like lime, share this to a friend who still sips liquid regrets to calm herself down.

HOW TO TAKE YOUR SODA DRINKS IN A WAY IT WON'T AFFECT YOU

Do This And Thank Me Later.

WARNING: If you skip any of these steps, you kiss your health goodbye.


Step 1: Buy any of the Soda drinks. Ensure it's chilled.

Step 2: Take it to the kitchen.

Step 3: Grab a glass cup (don't drink directly from the bottle and don't use straw).

Step 4: Pour into the glass cup and allow it to settle for 2 minutes.

Step 5: Ensure there are no fizzy bubbles anymore.

Step 6: Cover it.

Step 7: Carry it to your toilet and pour round the inside of the toilet.

Step 8: Get a toilet brush, add some little soap and scrub the toilet.


Mama Sadé, stop sipping confusion.

You have zobo, fenugreek tea, saffron tea E.t.c.


If this slaps like lime, share this to a friend who still sips liquid regrets to calm herself down.

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 17
The air in Ghost’s apartment still hummed with the fading resonance of celebration, but the joyous chaos had settled into a warm, contented quiet. Paper lanterns cast soft, multicoloured pools of light on the worn floor. The scent of jollof rice and sweet puff-puff mingled with the faint, hopeful fragrance of the lilies. Jessica sat nestled in a worn but comfortable armchair, a hand resting on the magnificent curve of her belly, exhaustion and profound happiness etched on her face. Beside her, perched on the armrest, was Sebastian Scar.
He hadn’t left her side since the moment he’d stepped through the door. One arm was draped protectively around her shoulders, his large hand resting possessively on her bump, feeling the powerful, reassuring kicks of his son. His other hand held hers, his thumb tracing slow circles on her knuckles. The cold, hardened kingpin was gone. In his place was a man visibly awash with wonder, tenderness, and a fierce, almost overwhelming protectiveness. He couldn't hide his excitement. A genuine smile, rare and radiant, softened the harsh lines of his face as he watched Jessica accept a final glass of water from Chioma.
"You need to rest, *omoge*," Chioma fussed gently, using the Yoruba term for 'beautiful child'. "All this excitement isn't good for the little warrior."
Scar nodded immediately, his voice unusually soft. "She's right, my love. You've been through too much today." He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple, breathing in her scent – safety, home, *future*. He acted as if she were spun glass, his movements careful, his embrace constant, a physical manifestation of his terror at the thought of her disappearing again. Every time she shifted, his arm tightened infinitesimally; every time she smiled at one of the men, his gaze followed her with possessive adoration. The raw vulnerability he displayed, this public clinging, was as shocking to his men as his earlier rage had been.
As Chioma began gently clearing plates, William stepped forward, clearing his throat. The relaxed atmosphere shifted slightly, a current of solemnity returning. Kola, Musa, Femi, and the others gathered closer, their expressions turning serious, respectful, but also apprehensive.
"Boss," William began, his voice steady but heavy with unspoken weight. "First… on behalf of all of us…" He gestured around the room, encompassing the gathered men. "We owe you and Jessica a profound apology. We hid the truth. We kept Jessica from you. We deceived you." He met Scar’s gaze, which had sharpened but held no immediate anger, only a watchful intensity. "It wasn't disloyalty to you, sir. Never that. It was… it was loyalty to *her*." He nodded towards Jessica. "And to your unborn child. We saw what Amanda was doing. We saw the poison she dripped into everything. We knew she’d kill Jessica if we didn’t act, and likely the baby too. We needed time. Time to gather proof solid enough to shatter her lies and keep Jessica safe while we did it. We chose to protect what we knew mattered most to you, even when you couldn't see it. We beg your understanding… and your forgiveness."
Scar studied William, then slowly scanned the faces of the other men. He saw no defiance, only earnest contrition and the steely resolve that had driven their dangerous gambit. He squeezed Jessica’s hand. "You kept her alive," he stated, his voice low and thick with emotion. "You kept *my son* safe. When I…" He paused, the memory of his own murderous rage towards Jessica a fresh wound. "When I failed to see the truth. That debt outweighs the deception." A collective sigh of relief seemed to ripple through the room. "Now," Scar’s voice hardened, the tender lover replaced by the avenging king. "Tell me everything. Leave nothing out."
William nodded, pulling out a slim tablet. Kola stepped up beside him. What followed was a meticulous, damning reconstruction of Amanda’s treachery.
Kola detailed the digital forensics: "The CCTV deletion wasn't just timed during the chaos, Boss. It was executed using *your* encrypted master credentials, accessed from Amanda’s personal tablet within the penthouse. We recovered the login timestamp and device ID. She had a keylogger planted months ago, likely when she 'accidentally' spilled wine on your old tablet and insisted on getting it 'cleaned'."
Musa spoke next, his voice rough: "The poison, Boss. Aconite. Rare. Traced to a disgraced chemist operating a back-alley lab in Badagry. Amanda visited him twice under a false name in the weeks before… *it* happened. Paid in untraceable crypto. Femi and I tracked him down. He confirmed it was her, described her perfectly, even remembered the red diamond serpent ring she wore. He was… persuaded… to give a recorded testimony." The implication of that 'persuasion' was clear.
Femi added, "The cook, Mama Nkechi. Amanda got to her. Threatened her grandson who was in trouble with some local thugs. Promised to make the trouble disappear if Mama Nkechi wiped *only Jessica’s* favourite coffee cup with a cloth Amanda provided *after* Jessica made the coffee but *before* she handed it to you. Mama Nkechi thought it was just Amanda being spiteful, trying to make Jessica look careless. She had no idea about the poison. She’s terrified, Boss, but she confessed everything when we showed her the threat to her grandson was orchestrated by one of Amanda’s paid street enforcers."
William displayed the evidence on the tablet: the digital logs pinpointing Amanda’s device, the chemist’s shaky video testimony, transcripts of Mama Nkechi’s tearful confession, financial trails leading back to Amanda’s shadow accounts. "She framed Jessica perfectly, sir," William concluded, his voice tight with anger. "Used your trust, your systems, and innocent people as tools. She poisoned you to eliminate Jessica and reclaim her place. She nearly killed you to get what she wanted."
As each piece of evidence slammed home, Scar’s body grew rigid beside Jessica. The tender hand on her belly became a claw, trembling with suppressed fury. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a glacial, terrifying darkness. The image of himself choking, the white foam, the agony – not caused by some faceless enemy, but by the woman he’d once been bound to, the woman who’d shared his childhood, all to destroy the woman he loved and the child she carried. The betrayal was absolute, monstrous.
When William finished, the silence was volcanic. Scar slowly rose to his feet. The gentle protector was gone. The Lion of Lagos, wounded and enraged beyond measure, stood in his place. He didn’t speak. He didn’t look at Jessica, though his hand briefly squeezed hers in a silent promise. He turned, his movements lethally precise, and walked towards the apartment door. He paused only to pick up the heavy black pistol Ghost silently handed him, checking the chamber with a cold, mechanical click that echoed in the stillness.
"Stay with her," Scar commanded Ghost, his voice a low growl that vibrated with pure menace. "Guard them with your life." Then he was gone, striding into the hallway, William, Kola, Musa, and Femi falling into step behind him like shadows of death.
***
The drive back to the villa was a blur of speed and suffocating silence. Scar sat in the back of the armored SUV, staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle pulsed in his cheek. The evidence replayed in his mind – Amanda’s manipulations, the cook’s fear, the chemist’s greed, the deliberate, calculated attempt to murder him and frame Jessica, to destroy his future. Rage, cold and absolute, consumed him.
They stormed into the penthouse. Amanda was lounging on the cream sofa, sipping champagne, dressed in a silk negligee as if expecting a different kind of visitor. The sight of Scar, flanked by his grim-faced lieutenants, his expression murderous, made her freeze mid-sip. A flicker of fear crossed her face, quickly masked by defiant arrogance.
"Sebastian! Darling, what's—" she began, attempting her usual purr.
"Silence." Scar’s voice cracked like a whip. He stopped a few feet away, the pistol held loosely but pointedly at his side. "You poisoned me." It wasn't a question.
Amanda’s eyes widened with theatrical innocence. "Poisoned? Sebastian, have you lost your—"
"Spare me the act," he snarled, taking a step closer. "The chemist in Badagry. Mama Nkechi. The keylogger. The CCTV deletion. Your tablet." He listed the evidence like a death sentence. "You tried to kill me. You framed Jessica. You threatened an old woman’s grandson." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "For *what*? A throne you were never fit to sit on?"
The mask shattered. Amanda slammed her champagne flute down, shattering it on the glass table. She surged to her feet, her beautiful face contorted with venomous rage. "Fit for? That throne was *mine* by birthright! Our fathers promised it! You were *mine*! Then that gutter rat slithered in with her simpering innocence and stole you! Stole *everything*!" Spittle flew from her lips. "Yes, I poisoned you! I wanted you weak, needing me! I wanted her blamed, destroyed, *gone*! And I would have succeeded if it weren't for these *traitors*!" She spat the word at William and the others.
Her eyes, wild and hate-filled, locked onto Scar’s. "You think she loves you? That whore? She’s using you! Just like her mother used men to climb out of the slums! That baby? It’s probably Ghost’s, or some other street—"
The gunshot was deafening in the opulent room.
Amanda screamed, staggering back, clutching her upper left arm where Scar’s bullet had torn through silk and flesh. Blood bloomed crimson, stark against the pale fabric. She crashed onto the sofa, gasping, her face white with shock and pain, staring at Scar with utter disbelief.
Scar stood frozen for a split second, the gun smoking in his hand. The raw, blinding fury that had propelled the shot warred with cold control. Killing her now, in cold blood, would be too easy. Too merciful.
"Get her out of my sight," Scar commanded, his voice icy, his gaze fixed on Amanda’s writhing form with utter contempt. "Take her to the secure clinic. Patch her up. Then lock her in the basement cells. No visitors. No privileges. She lives to face justice. *My* justice." The promise in his voice was more terrifying than the gunshot.
William and Kola moved swiftly, hauling a shrieking, cursing Amanda to her feet. Musa followed, already speaking into his comms to alert the clinic.
Scar watched them drag her away, the crimson stain spreading on the cream upholstery. The rage still simmered, but a profound exhaustion, and a desperate need, washed over him. He needed Jessica. He needed his son. He needed to make amends.
***
He didn’t return to Ghost’s apartment. He sent for Jessica and Chioma, bringing them back to the villa in a heavily guarded convoy. He went straight to the wing housing Jessica’s family.
Jessica’s parents and younger siblings were gathered in their living room, the atmosphere tense with the distant echoes of the gunshot and the sudden flurry of activity. Fear was etched on their faces. When Scar entered, flanked by Ghost (who had stayed glued to Jessica’s side) and William, they flinched.
Scar stopped in the center of the room. He didn’t sit. He looked at Jessica’s mother, then her father, meeting their fearful gazes directly. He saw the strain of months under house arrest, the worry for Jessica, the humiliation.
Then, to their utter astonishment, Sebastian Scar, the most feared man in Lagos, the man who held their lives in his hands, bowed his head. Not deeply, but significantly. A gesture of profound respect and contrition.
"Mr. and Mrs. Adebayo," he began, his voice rough but sincere, devoid of its usual command. "Jessica." He looked at her, standing protectively near her parents, Chioma beside her. "I owe you the deepest, most sincere apologies. Words cannot express the regret, the shame I carry for the suffering you have endured because of my blindness, my failure, and the evil of another."
He took a breath, the weight of his words heavy in the room. "You were brought here for safety, but it became confinement. You lived under guard, separated from Jessica, fearing for her life, fearing for your own, because I believed a lie. I failed to protect Jessica. I failed to protect *you*. I allowed a viper into our home, and she poisoned everything – my body, my mind, and your peace." He looked directly at Jessica’s parents. "The inconvenience, the fear, the suffering you have had to go through… it is unforgivable. But I beg your understanding, and if possible, in time, your forgiveness."
He straightened. "The woman responsible, Amanda, has been dealt with. She will never harm any of you again. Jessica is innocent. She has always been innocent." His voice softened as he looked at Jessica, his hand instinctively reaching towards her belly before stopping himself. "And she carries my son. Your grandson."
He gestured towards William. "Your house arrest is lifted. Effective immediately. These men are no longer your guards, but your protectors. This wing is yours. Come and go as you please. The city is yours. Anything you need, anything you desire, you have only to ask." He met Jessica’s father’s eyes again. "I know trust must be earned again. I will spend the rest of my life earning yours, and Jessica’s, if she allows me."
The silence that followed was thick with shock, relief, and hesitant hope. Jessica’s mother burst into quiet tears. Her father, a proud man weathered by hardship, looked at Scar with a new, cautious measure of respect. He gave a slow, solemn nod. "We suffered," he acknowledged quietly. "But our daughter is safe. Our grandchild is coming. That is what matters now."
Scar nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He turned to Jessica, his eyes filled with a vulnerable plea. She stepped forward, away from her parents, and walked into his open arms. He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair, the horrors of the day momentarily banished by the solid, living reality of her and the life they’d created. Home wasn't just a place; it was this woman, this child, this fragile, hard-won peace reclaimed from the jaws of treachery. The storm wasn't entirely over, but for now, the Lion was home, guarding his den, his mate, and his future cub.
TO BE CONTINUED...

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 16
The Lagos heat pressed down like a damp cloth, but within the modest walls of Ghost’s third-floor apartment, a different kind of warmth pulsed – nervous, hopeful, and defiantly joyful. For weeks, William, Kola, and a handful of Scar’s most trusted lieutenants had moved with the precision of a covert operation. Not against rivals, but for Jessica. The secret baby shower was their rebellion, their apology, and their promise.
Chioma had transformed the small living room. Strings of tiny, multicolored paper lanterns crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a warm, dappled glow. Bunches of vibrant orange lilies and purple bougainvillea blooms overflowed from repurposed jars, filling the air with a sweet, hopeful fragrance. A folding table groaned under the weight of steaming pots of jollof rice, fragrant pepper soup, fried plantains, and small mountains of puff-puff. In the corner, a carefully curated pile of gifts grew – tiny knitted booties, soft cotton blankets, hand-carved wooden toys, and practical supplies donated by the men who’d once hunted her. A banner, painstakingly lettered by Chioma, hung crookedly above the food table: "WELCOME LITTLE LION CUB."
Jessica stood in the center of it all, one hand instinctively cradling the immense swell of her eight-month pregnant belly. She wore a simple, flowing dress of deep blue cotton that Chioma had sewn, the fabric straining gently over the curve of life within. Her long black hair was loosely braided, framing a face that held a complex mix of emotions – profound gratitude, lingering fear, and a fierce, protective love that radiated from her. She hadn’t felt this surrounded, this *cherished*, since before the poisoning. Ghost stood near the window, his usual stoicism softened by a rare, almost imperceptible smile as he watched Chioma fuss over Jessica, adjusting the dress and pressing a cool cloth to her forehead.
"We told him we were doing perimeter checks on the new warehouse district," William murmured to Kola, keeping his voice low despite the cheerful chatter of a dozen men awkwardly holding plates of food. "Benji said he had a family emergency down in Port Harcourt. Tunde claimed his mother needed him for a traditional ceremony." He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, a flicker of unease in his eyes. "He bought it… but barely. He’s been like a caged panther these past few days, restless. Feels like he senses something’s off."
Kola nodded, his gaze sweeping the room, landing on Jessica. "It’s worth the risk, Will. Look at her. She deserves this moment. We owe her this." He lowered his voice further. "After tonight… after we show him…" He didn’t need to finish. The plan was set. The evidence against Amanda – meticulously gathered, witness testimonies secured, a timeline of her manipulations laid bare – was locked in a secure case in William’s car downstairs. The baby shower was the calm before the storm, a final act of solidarity before they presented their case and shattered Amanda’s poisonous reign.
The apartment buzzed with an energy that was part celebration, part conspiracy. Men who usually carried the weight of violence and suspicion laughed awkwardly, cooed over the tiny booties, and shared stories of their own children. Chioma moved like a benevolent whirlwind, refilling plates, urging everyone to eat, her eyes bright with tears of happiness for Jessica. Jessica herself felt a warmth seep into her bones, a fragile sense of safety she hadn’t known in months. She accepted a plate of puff-puff from a burly guard named Musa, who blushed furiously when she thanked him.
"This little warrior," Musa said gruffly, nodding towards her belly, "will be strong like his father, and wise like his mother." The simple words, coming from a man who had once been ready to drag her before Scar, brought fresh tears to Jessica’s eyes.
Suddenly, a sharp, insistent knock echoed through the apartment, cutting through the music Chioma had put on – a soft, traditional lullaby.
Everyone froze. The cheerful chatter died instantly. Plates were lowered. Smiles vanished, replaced by wary alertness. Ghost’s hand drifted instinctively towards his waistband. William and Kola exchanged a look of pure alarm. *Too early. No one else was expected.*
"I’ll get it," Jessica said, her voice calm despite the sudden pounding of her heart. She assumed it was perhaps a neighbor Chioma had invited, or maybe one of the men who’d been delayed. She smoothed her dress over her bump and moved towards the door, a welcoming smile already forming on her lips.
She unlocked the door, the cheap metal bolt scraping loudly in the sudden silence, and pulled it open.
The figure standing in the dimly lit hallway wasn’t a neighbor. It wasn’t a late-arriving guard.
It was Sebastian Scar.
He filled the doorway, dressed not in his usual impeccable suit, but in dark trousers and a slightly rumpled black shirt, the sleeves rolled up his powerful forearms. His face was a mask of cold fury, his dark eyes burning with the intensity of a predator who had finally cornered its prey. He’d followed William, his suspicion a coiled spring finally released. He’d seen the men gather here, heard the muffled music, the laughter that felt like a betrayal. He expected secrets, perhaps disloyalty, maybe even Ghost’s treachery laid bare.
He did *not* expect the sight that met him.
Jessica stood before him, bathed in the warm light spilling from the apartment. Her beauty, amplified by pregnancy, hit him like a physical blow. The gentle curve of her cheek, the luminous glow of her skin, the defiant strength in her eyes… and the impossible, undeniable swell of her belly, stretching the soft blue fabric of her dress. It was a reality so profound, so utterly shattering to the narrative of betrayal he’d clung to, that it stopped the breath in his lungs. His furious glare faltered, replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock. His eyes widened, locked onto the visible proof of life – *his* life, intertwined with hers – that pulsed beneath her hands.
"Jessica…?" The name escaped him, a hoarse whisper devoid of its intended rage, filled instead with bewildered awe.
The room behind her was utterly frozen. William had gone pale. Kola looked like he might be sick. Ghost stood rigid, every muscle tensed, ready to spring. Chioma clutched a platter, her knuckles white. The other men looked stricken, caught between loyalty and fear. They braced for the explosion, for the violence Scar was legendary for. They expected him to tear Jessica away, to unleash his wrath upon them all for their deception.
Scar didn’t move. He just stared, his gaze traveling from Jessica’s face, down to the incredible evidence of their child, and back again. The fury that had propelled him here seemed to dissolve, replaced by a wave of emotion so powerful it threatened to buckle his knees – disbelief, a dawning, agonizing understanding, and a surge of raw, possessive love that eclipsed everything else.
Then, he moved. Not with violence, but with a sudden, desperate urgency. He stepped across the threshold, ignoring the terrified men, his focus solely on Jessica. His large, powerful hands, capable of such destruction, came up, trembling slightly, and gently cupped her face. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks, his touch impossibly tender.
"My God," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes drinking her in. "You look… you look so beautiful, my love." The endearment, unused for so long, fell from his lips with aching sincerity. He pulled her carefully, oh-so-gently, into his arms, mindful of the precious burden between them. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent mixed with the new, warm sweetness of pregnancy. His arms tightened around her, not to imprison, but to anchor himself to this impossible reality. "I’ve missed you," he murmured against her skin, his voice cracking. "Every single day. Every single breath. Why… why did you run away from me, my little lioness?"
Jessica clung to him, sobs shaking her shoulders, months of fear, isolation, and longing pouring out. "I had to," she choked out, her voice muffled against his chest. "I had to protect the baby… from your rage. From *her*." She lifted her head, her eyes searching his, pleading for understanding. "I didn’t poison you, Sebastian. I swear on our child’s life. I would *never*."
He looked deep into her eyes, past the fear, past the tears, to the unwavering truth he saw shining there. The damning evidence Amanda presented, the deleted footage, the apparent betrayal… it all crumbled in the face of this – Jessica, pregnant with his child, hiding not out of guilt, but out of desperate love. The last vestiges of doubt evaporated.
"I believe you," he whispered, the words a sacred vow. He kissed her then, not with the desperate passion of their reunion after Amanda’s arrival, but with a profound, reverent tenderness that spoke of homecoming, of forgiveness, of a love reforged stronger in the fire of betrayal. It was a kiss that silenced the room, that washed away months of pain and suspicion.
When they finally parted, both breathless and tear-streaked, Scar kept one arm firmly around Jessica, supporting her weight, his other hand resting possessively, protectively, on the curve of her belly. He turned to face the room, his expression no longer furious, but stern, demanding answers.
William stepped forward, his own eyes suspiciously bright. He cleared his throat. "Boss… welcome. We… we planned this for Jessica. For your child." He gestured around the decorated room, the food, the gifts. "But it’s more than a party. We have something else for you. Something crucial."
Scar’s gaze swept over his men, seeing not traitors, but allies who had protected what was most precious to him when he couldn’t see the truth. He gave a single, curt nod.
Kola stepped up beside William. "It was Amanda, sir," he stated, his voice firm and clear, cutting through the lingering tension. "From the beginning. She poisoned you. She framed Jessica."
One by one, the men added their pieces, painting a damning picture. William detailed how Amanda had sourced the aconite weeks before the poisoning through a disgraced chemist she’d paid off. Musa recounted seeing her near the penthouse security server room late on the night *before* Scar fell ill. Another guard, Femi, confessed under pressure how Amanda had subtly threatened his family if he didn’t corroborate her story about Jessica’s behavior. Kola presented digital fragments Ghost had painstakingly recovered – not the full CCTV, but metadata proving the deletion happened remotely from *within* the penthouse network, timed precisely during the chaos, using credentials only Amanda and Scar possessed.
Ghost finally spoke, his voice low but carrying. "I didn’t betray you, Boss. I followed a false trail she laid, knowing I’d be out of the way. When I realized the trap, I came back… not to help Jessica escape guilt, but to save her from being murdered for a crime she didn’t commit. Bringing her here, so close… it was the only way to keep her safe while we gathered proof."
As the evidence mounted, Scar’s face darkened with a chilling, silent fury directed not at Jessica, not at his men, but at the architect of this devastation. He held Jessica closer, his hand tightening protectively on her belly, the gesture speaking volumes.
The baby shower, interrupted by seismic revelation, slowly transformed. The fear melted away, replaced by a profound sense of relief and vindication. Scar, the feared kingpin, stood amidst the paper lanterns and flowers, gently guiding Jessica to a chair, fetching her a plate of food himself, his attention solely on her. He listened intently as the men, now relaxed, resumed their celebration, showering Jessica with well-wishes and playful predictions about the baby’s strength or intelligence. He touched her belly hesitantly at first, then with growing wonder as he felt the powerful kick of his son beneath his palm. A slow, genuine smile, the first in months, touched his lips.
"Strong," he murmured, looking up at Jessica, his eyes shining with a mixture of awe and fierce pride. "Just like his mother." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I can’t wait to meet him, Jessica. Our son."
The party continued, the music restarted, the laughter now genuine and free. But beneath the celebration, a new tension simmered. Amanda was still out there. And Sebastian Scar, reunited with his lioness and anticipating his heir, had a debt of vengeance to collect. The storm hadn’t passed; it had merely found its true target. The final reckoning with the serpent in their midst was just beginning.
TO BE CONTINUED...

I saw the post below. It touched the core of my soul. With people like Chiemelie Kyrian Offor, I am again hopeful for my country. God bless him

***Let me share this here.***

Of this incident that happened a few hours ago.

I wasn’t supposed to stop.

But I did.

There was chaos just ahead of the supermarket gate somewhere in Surulere.

A black Toyota Corolla was surrounded by three LASTMA officials.

The driver, mid-40s, shirt soaked in sweat, kept pacing between them.

And something in his voice stopped me.

"Please. Please just look inside the car. He is not even moving anymore. That’s my son. He is sick, he is very sick. We were going to the hospital. I only stepped in to grab his medication. I was gone for just five minutes."

One of the officials shook his head like he’d heard it a thousand times.

"You people always have stories. Why park where you're not supposed to? You want us to lose our job?"

Another officer barked.

"Oga, if you don’t bring ₦70,000 now, this car is going to the yard. And from there? You’ll need close to ₦400,000 to bail it."

The man reached out. Not to touch them. Just to plead.
They stepped back like he carried something contagious.

"I swear I’m not lying. Please. He has severe asthma. I forgot the nebulizer at home. I was rushing to the hospital, Faithview, just ten minutes from here. Look at him! You have a child, right? Please, have sympathy."

That was when I looked.

The boy,maybe ten, was in the backseat, his small frame slumped against the door, eyes half-closed. His chest heaved in rapid spasms, every breath sounding like gravel grinding in a pipe.

His fingers trembled. His lips were turning dark.

So I stepped forward.

"What’s wrong with him?"

The father looked at me, disoriented.

"Asthma. It started an hour ago. He had a mild attack in the morning, but it’s worsening fast. I was going to get him treated and just stopped for a refill. Please, sir… help me talk to them."

I tried to talk to the LASTMA officers but they ignored me so I turned back to the man.

"Try and sort this with them, let me take him to the hospital."

His eyes widened.

"You…?”

"We don't have another option and there is no time. He needs oxygen. Now.”

He hesitated.

"You’re a stranger."

"I am. But your son is dying.”

He looked back at the boy.

Then at me.

He obviously saw that there was no other option left.

His lips trembled.

"Give me your number. Please.”

I gave him mine.

And he gave me his.

I opened the door and gently lifted the boy from the backseat.

He was warm. Burning. His eyes barely focused on mine.

As I placed him in my car, the father shouted behind me.

"Please, call me the moment you get there. Please don’t let anything happen to him!"

I nodded once. Then I got into the car and quickly drove off.

The hospital wasn’t crowded, I guess because it was a private one.

I rushed in carrying the boy in both arms.

"Emergency! Severe asthma attack. Ten-year-old boy!"

The receptionist stood up so fast her chair hit the wall.

She shouted.

"Treatment Room Two! Get Doctor Okafor!"

While I tried to fill the form I was given, two nurses rushed and took the boy, placed him on the oxygen tank, connected a nebulizer, and began checking vitals.

One of the nurses murmured.

"He’s tachypneic. Respiration over 40. Oxygen saturation 82%."

The doctor said as he rushed in still zipping his scrubs.

"Get the hydrocortisone ready. Nebulize him every 20 minutes. Keep him on oxygen. If he doesn’t stabilize, we’re moving to adrenaline injection.”

I stood there.

My heart pounding.

This wasn’t my child.

But it felt like my fight.

Minutes passed.

Then the doctor came out.

“He is stable."

He said, wiping his forehead.

"That was close. He’ll be okay, but he needs to stay a few hours for monitoring.”

I thanked him so much.

The bill came.

₦89,000.

I paid with my debit card.

I stepped outside and called the boy’s father.

He picked on the first ring.

“Hello! Sir, please, is he?"

"He is stable. He is getting oxygen and treatment.”

A pause.

Then I heard the man begin to cry. Softly.

I didn’t speak. I let him.

But he wasn’t done.

“They’ve taken the car. They refused to wait. I was still begging when the towing truck came. They said the 70K grace was over. I’m at their yard in Iponri now. Sir… they’re asking for ₦385,000 to release my car.”

I looked at the hospital door behind me.

Then at the sky.

Then back to my car.

I didn't know what to say to him.

But all I found myself saying was.

"I’m coming.”

And I meant it.

He couldn't believe his ears.

I arrived at the LASTMA office just before 3PM.

The weather was warm, no sun, but the heat stuck to my skin like wet cloth.

I found him standing by a corner fence, head down, fingers digging into his scalp.

He was tired and confused.

So I said to him gently.

"Sir."

He looked up like someone coming out of a bad dream. His eyes were red, his face streaked with dry sweat and tears.

He approached me nervously.

His voice was hoarse.

"My car… they have impounded it. Said I’ll pay ₦385,000. They even threatened to keep increasing the fine by day. That car is my only source of income. That's my office from where I make money to take care of my son and my wife. God, please, help me."

I told him.

"Stay calm. Nothing will happen to your car, you'll get it back, I believe."

He nodded slowly.

"They have been laughing at me. One said, ‘Your son is sick? Na why you go break law? You think say we be Red Cross?’"

I felt something cold stir in my chest.

Not rage.

Just sadness.

I said to him.

"Please, come with me."

We walked into the building.

Inside, it smelled of engine oil, sweat, and indifference.

I approached the counter.

“Good afternoon. I’d like to speak with your superior officer. It’s regarding a car that was impounded a few hours ago, black Toyota Corolla.”

A thickset officer with bloodshot eyes looked up at me. "Eeyyaa who you be? Police or Army? Abeg everything you want to say, say it here. We don’t have time.”

I responded calmly but firm.

"I was the one who rushed the sick boy to the hospital, I have the hospital card and bill here. He was in the back seat of that vehicle. That child would have died today if I didn’t act."

He scoffed.

"And so? Good for him. E mean say we no go do our job?”

"No one said that but this man was in an emergency. All he asked was a few more minutes. Instead, you people want to extort him. Now you’re billing him almost ₦400,000. This isn’t traffic enforcement. It’s cruelty."

Another officer chimed in.

"Oga, the car don enter system. Na only Oga inside go override am. And e no dey see everybody."

"Then let him see me."

"As governor of Lagos State or as who?"

Silence.

I stood my ground.

"Get your superior. I’ll wait.”

The minutes crawled.

The father stood beside me like a child awaiting judgment.

Fortunately, a senior officer emerged.

Bald, tall, stern. I saw his name tag.

He sized me up before he said.

"What’s the problem?”

I stepped forward and told the story. From the moment I saw the boy wheezing in the back seat, to carrying him into the hospital, to paying the ₦89,000 hospital bill, to returning only to find the car had been towed.

The Commander listened without interruption. Then he asked a single question:

“Do you have proof the boy was sick?”

I handed him the hospital bill and the case card. He studied them for a long moment.

Then something shifted in his eyes.

He looked at the officers behind the desk.

"You towed the vehicle knowing a child was dying in it?"

"Sir, the man parked in a no-parking."

"I didn’t ask that. I asked if you knew a child was in distress in the car."

No one answered.

He sighed.

"Release the car. Immediately. Remove the fine. No man should suffer for saving his own son’s life. And you."

He turned to the father.

"You’re lucky someone still has a conscience in this country. Thank this guy for stepping in."

The man fell to his knees.

"Thank you. Thank you, sir… I swear, thank you…"

When the superior left, he turned to me.

And his voice broke.

"You didn’t know me. Yet you rushed my son to the hospital. You paid for his treatment. And now, you’re standing here fighting for me when I couldn’t even fight for myself."

I helped him to his feet.

He opened his wallet and tried to hand me some money.

"I don’t have much. Please… even if it’s part of what you spent..."

I shook my head.

"Your son is breathing. That’s enough. Please, pick your car and go and see him. God bless you."

He looked at me, eyes trembling.

"Why? Why would you do this for me?"

I didn’t know how to answer that.

So I said the only thing I truly believed.

"Because someone should."

As we walked out into the fading light, I handed him a folded note.

It was the hospital’s follow-up card. His son had to return in two days for further tests.

"I already booked the appointment. He’ll need more care. Don’t miss it."

He opened it slowly, then looked back at me, his lips parted, but no words came.

Only tears.

Only silence.

And behind us, the LASTMA officers watched.

They were quiet now. Maybe even ashamed.

But I left there happy and fulfilled.

You could do the same.

And the world will be a better place.

.

Chiemelie Kyrian Offor
June 17, 2025

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 15
Nine months. The city of Lagos breathed, pulsed, and roared beneath a relentless sun, oblivious to the silent war waged within the gilded cage of Sebastian Scar’s world. Time had scarred over the raw wound of the poisoning, leaving a thick, knotted tissue of suspicion, bitterness, and a haunting absence.
Scar stood at the penthouse window, a tumbler of untouched whiskey in his hand. The view was the same – the sprawling, vibrant chaos of the city he commanded. Yet, it felt alien, muted. Amanda flitted around the living room behind him, the sharp click of her designer heels a constant, grating counterpoint to the silence in his soul. She’d embedded herself like a persistent thorn, a constant presence draped in silks and poisonous concern. She managed his schedule, filtered information, played the devoted caretaker – the role of the wronged fiancée finally vindicated. But her attempts to reignite their past, to seduce him, were met with a cold, impenetrable wall. He tolerated her, used her efficiency, but the chamber of his heart she once occupied was now a locked vault filled only with echoes of betrayal and the phantom scent of jasmine.
Jessica. The name was a ghost that walked the halls. His men – the best trackers, the most connected shadows in the city – had turned Lagos upside down. Rivers dredged, slums combed, borders watched, informants squeezed dry. Nothing. Not a whisper, not a footprint. She and Ghost had vanished as if swallowed by the earth. The frustration was a constant, low hum beneath his rage. He didn’t just want her dead anymore; a deeper, more torturous need had taken root. He needed to *see* her. To look into the eyes he’d once drowned in and demand, with the last breath she’d ever draw, *“Why?”* Why shatter the sanctuary he’d built for them? Why poison the hand that gave her everything? Why betray a love that had thawed his frozen heart? The unanswered question festered, poisoning his days more insidiously than the aconite ever had.
Her family remained a confusing testament to that shattered past. Still under house arrest in the mansion he’d gifted them, guarded by men whose loyalty was now solely to him. Amanda railed against it constantly. "They know something, Sebastian! They’re her blood! They’re laughing at you, hiding her!" she’d hiss, her eyes flashing with malice. But Scar had held firm. "They stay. Unharmed." It was a command born not of mercy, but of a grim, unresolved thread. Harming them felt like closing a door he wasn’t ready to shut, admitting a finality he couldn’t face. Were they hostages for a ghost? Or a lingering, irrational hope that their presence might somehow draw her out? He didn’t know anymore.
Ghost… his betrayal stung with a unique venom. A man forged in the same fires of loyalty, whose silence had always been his strength. He’d reappeared weeks after the poisoning, materializing one night in Scar’s study as if stepping from a shadow. His story was chillingly plausible, delivered with his usual impassive calm. He’d tracked a lead on a rival faction potentially linked to the poison, deep into the Niger Delta. Communications compromised. Ambushed. Left for dead. He’d only just recovered. He vehemently denied helping Jessica escape. "Boss, I would die before betraying you. She must have had other help, or she was far more resourceful than we knew. I failed you. I should have been there." The explanation was tight, logical. Scar had stared into Ghost’s unreadable eyes, searching for a flicker of deceit. He found none. But the absence of proof wasn’t proof of innocence, and a seed of doubt, carefully nurtured by Amanda’s whispers, remained. Ghost was reinstated, his duties curtailed, watched.
Meanwhile, miles away yet impossibly close, hidden in a modest, unremarkable apartment building just five streets from the towering opulence of Scar’s villa, Jessica lived in the fragile eye of the storm. Ghost’s gamble had been audacious. Bringing her back to the lion’s den, to a safehouse nestled within the very territory crawling with men hunting her. It was a move born of necessity and audacious strategy – the last place Scar would think to look.
Jessica’s world was confined to three small rooms. The weight she carried now wasn't just fear, but the profound, undeniable swell of her pregnancy. Eight months. Her body was a landscape of taut skin, aching bones, and the ceaseless, miraculous flutter of life within. Chioma, Ghost’s fiercely protective fiancée, was her anchor, her midwife, her confidante. She tended to Jessica with quiet competence, brewing herbal teas for the swelling in her ankles, massaging the knots from her back, her eyes holding a constant, watchful worry.
The apartment was a world away from the penthouse luxury, filled with the smell of simmering stews and the sound of distant city life filtering through thin walls. Jessica spent her days by a small window overlooking a dusty courtyard, her hands often resting on the hard curve of her belly. She traced patterns, whispered secrets to the life inside – stories of its father, not the man baying for her blood, but the man who had held her like she was the world, who had whispered love against her skin. "Your Papa, Sebastian," she’d murmur, tears often blurring her vision. "He’s strong. He’s brave. And he’s lost right now. But we’ll find him, little one. We’ll make him see."
Fear was a constant companion. Every footstep on the stairwell, every raised voice in the courtyard, sent her heart racing. But it was tempered now by a ferocious, maternal resolve. She carried Scar’s heir. This child was her truth, her weapon, her reason to fight. She couldn’t run forever. She had to clear her name, for herself, for her child, and for the man whose love had created this life, even if he now sought to end hers.
Unbeknownst to Jessica and Scar, a quiet revolution was brewing among the ranks. William, Scar’s steadfast second-in-command, had become the epicenter of doubt. The initial rage had cooled, replaced by cold logic and gnawing inconsistencies. The missing CCTV footage – too clean, too convenient. Amanda’s constant presence, her manipulation of information, her eagerness to see Jessica’s family harmed. Ghost’s improbable, yet unchallenged, alibi. And Jessica… the girl from the slums who’d fought tooth and nail for an education, who’d sent money home religiously, who’d looked at Scar with an adoration William had never seen in Amanda’s calculating eyes. Did that woman poison the man she loved?
William began cautiously. Late-night meetings in secure garages, hushed conversations with other senior lieutenants – men who’d witnessed Jessica’s quiet strength, who remembered Scar’s transformation when she was near. Men like Kola, the head of security, who’d privately questioned the lack of physical evidence tying Jessica to the poison beyond proximity. Slowly, carefully, a network of doubt solidified into a conspiracy of truth. They shared fragments: Amanda making unexplained calls before the poisoning, her subtle influence over certain guards, her unnatural calm amidst the chaos. They couldn’t prove anything yet, but the conviction grew – Jessica was innocent. Amanda had orchestrated it all. And Ghost… his role was still murky, but his return and Jessica’s continued disappearance pointed towards something more complex than betrayal.
Their plan was dangerous, embryonic. Gather irrefutable proof. Find Jessica. Expose Amanda before she consolidated her power or eliminated them. They moved like shadows within shadows, aware that one misstep meant death.
Back in the penthouse, Amanda felt the shifting sands. Scar’s coldness was a fortress she couldn’t breach. Her seduction attempts – lingering touches, suggestive whispers, expensive lingerie showcased under flimsy robes – were met with indifference or curt dismissal. He slept in his own room, the door locked. The engagement ring she’d subtly placed on her finger remained unacknowledged.
One evening, fueled by desperation and expensive wine, she cornered him in his study. He was reviewing weapons manifests, his profile harsh in the lamplight. She approached, the scent of her perfume cloying. "Sebastian," she purred, draping herself over the arm of his chair, her hand sliding onto his thigh. "It’s late. You work too hard. Let me… ease your mind." Her fingers crept higher.
Scar didn’t look up. His hand shot out, not violently, but with crushing finality, clamping around her wrist and removing it from his leg. His touch was ice-cold. "Don't," he said, his voice devoid of any inflection, his gaze still fixed on the papers. "Leave, Amanda."
Humiliation burned her cheeks. "Why?" she hissed, the mask slipping. "Why cling to the ghost of that treacherous whore? I’m *here*. I’ve *always* been here! We’re meant to be together!"
Finally, he looked at her. His eyes, dark and fathomless, held not anger, but a chilling emptiness. "Meant to be?" he echoed, a hollow laugh escaping him. "That childhood contract died the day you shot an unarmed woman in my house. It was buried when you poisoned me and framed Jessica. You are here because you manipulated your way in. Not because I want you. Not because I *ever* will." He stood, towering over her, the sheer force of his presence pushing her back a step. "You serve a purpose, Amanda. For now. Don't mistake tolerance for desire. Now get out."
She fled, not in tears, but in a silent, shaking rage that promised retribution. The walls were closing in. William’s subtle resistance, Scar’s impenetrable coldness, the persistent, maddening silence of Jessica’s whereabouts – it was all unraveling.
As Amanda seethed in her suite, and Scar stared sightlessly at the city lights, wrestling with ghosts and unanswered questions, Jessica lay in the stifling heat of the safehouse apartment, Chioma gently rubbing cooling balm onto her swollen feet. The baby kicked vigorously, a powerful reminder of the life pulsing against all odds. Five streets away, William and Kola met in a dimly lit back room, a stolen security log spread between them, their voices low and urgent. The storm was no longer gathering; it was on the horizon, a tempest fueled by love, betrayal, and the desperate hope held within a heavily pregnant woman hidden in plain sight. The reckoning was coming, and the heir to the Scar empire would be born amidst its fury.
TO BE CONTINUED...

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 14
The sterile air of the hospital room tasted like despair. Sebastian Scar floated in a grey limbo, tethered to life by whirring machines and dripping IVs. Visions flickered – Jessica’s tear-streaked face, Amanda’s venomous smile, the bitter taste of coffee, the terrifying convulsions, the suffocating white foam. Pain was a distant throb beneath layers of sedation. Time lost meaning.
Then, slowly, agonizingly, consciousness seeped back. It wasn't a sudden awakening, but a cruel, dragging emergence from the depths. His eyelids felt like lead weights. Light stabbed his pupils, blurred shapes resolving slowly. The rhythmic beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor was the first anchor to reality. Then came the ache – deep, pervasive, bone-deep exhaustion layered over a raw, burning sensation in his gut. He tried to move, to speak, but his body felt alien, unresponsive.
"Sebastian? Darling? Can you hear me?"
The voice, dripping with saccharine concern, cut through the fog. Amanda. He forced his eyes to focus. She sat perched elegantly on a chair beside his bed, dressed in somber, expensive silk, her blonde curls artfully arranged. Her hand rested lightly on his forearm, her touch feeling like ice despite the room's warmth. Her dark eyes, usually sharp with malice, were wide with a carefully constructed simulation of worry.
"Doctor! He's waking!" she called out, her voice trembling with theatrical relief.
A flurry of activity followed. Doctors checked vitals, adjusted IVs, shone lights in his eyes. Sebastian endured it, his gaze fixed on Amanda, a silent question burning in his exhausted eyes. What happened? Where is Jessica?
Amanda waited until the doctors finished their brief assessment, assuring them she’d stay with him. As the door clicked shut, her expression shifted. The worry remained, but beneath it, a cold, calculating gleam surfaced.
"Oh, Sebastian," she breathed, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We were so scared. You’ve been fighting for a week."
A week? Panic flared weakly. "Jess…" he managed, the word a raw croak.
Amanda’s face contorted instantly into a mask of profound sorrow and righteous anger. Tears welled in her eyes – real or expertly faked, he couldn’t tell. "Sebastian… my love…" she choked out. "It’s… it’s Jessica."
His heart monitor spiked. Beep… beep… beep… beep…
"She… she poisoned you," Amanda whispered, her voice thick with tears she let spill down her cheeks. "The coffee. She made it. She gave it to you. They found traces… aconite… a terrible poison. She was the only one who touched it. The only one with access." Amanda squeezed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "She must have planned it… planned to kill you, take everything… or maybe she was working with your enemies? We don’t know."
Sebastian tried to shake his head, denial roaring silently inside his shattered body. No. Impossible. Not Jessica. But the memory was fractured, terrifying. The coffee. Her handing him the cup. The immediate, violent reaction. The white foam.
"And then…" Amanda’s voice hardened, the tears replaced by cold fury. "When they realized you were poisoned, when they confronted her, she panicked. She tried to run. Ghost… he helped her escape! He betrayed you too! They fled together into the night." She spat the words. "She left you here dying, Sebastian. She poisoned you and ran away with one of your own men!"
The accusation crashed over him like a tidal wave. Betrayal. Poison. Escape. Each word was a shard of ice driven into his heart. The image of Jessica, the woman he loved, the woman he’d built a fragile future with, deliberately poisoning him… It clashed violently with the memory of her tender touch, her whispered love. But the evidence Amanda presented – the coffee, the poison, the flight – seemed damning. And the blinding rage that surged through his weakened body felt real, fueled by the violation, the near-death experience, the utter shock.
A guttural sound escaped his throat, part pain, part fury. His hands clenched weakly on the sheets.
Amanda saw it – the dawning horror, the spark of rage. She pressed her advantage, her voice dropping to a venomous hiss. "She played you, Sebastian. Used you. That gutter rat was always a gold-digging whore. She saw her chance and tried to take everything, including your life."
The crude insults, echoing those she’d hurled before, struck a different chord now, amplified by the context of betrayal. The fragile trust, the sanctuary of their love, felt like a grotesque lie. The rage crystallized, cold and lethal. He remembered her fleeing the room when he’d aimed the gun at Amanda… Had that been guilt? Fear of being caught?
"Find… her," he rasped, the words scraping his ravaged throat. His eyes, though clouded with pain and medication, burned with a terrifying intensity. He locked eyes with William, who had entered silently during Amanda’s tirade, his face grim. "Find Jessica… and Ghost. Bring them… to me." He took a shuddering breath, summoning every ounce of his fading strength. "Alive. I will… kill her… myself."
The command hung in the sterile air, heavy with finality. William nodded curtly, his own expression hardened by Amanda’s narrative and his boss’s suffering. "Consider it done, Boss."
Amanda leaned back, a flicker of triumph quickly masked by concern. "We checked the penthouse security immediately, Sebastian," she added smoothly. "Trying to find proof. But… the CCTV footage from the kitchen and balcony during that time… it’s gone. Deleted. No traces left." She shook her head sadly. "She covered her tracks well. Ghost must have helped her erase it."
The missing footage felt like the final nail. Paranoia, a familiar old friend, crept in. *How could she? Why?* The questions screamed in his mind, drowned out by the roar of betrayal. "I gave her… everything," he whispered, the words laced with bewildered agony. "Everything…" The image of her family, safe in the mansion he’d given them, flashed in his mind. "The family…" he managed. "Leave them… in the house. Guarded. But… untouched." It was a concession to a past love, a lingering doubt he couldn’t fully quash, even amidst his fury. He ignored Amanda’s immediate, sharp protest.
"But Sebastian! They could be involved! They—"
"Leave them!" he growled, the effort sending a spasm of pain through him. His order stood. Jessica’s family remained under house arrest, but protected, a confusing testament to the war raging within him.
Miles away, in a small, sun-drenched village house nestled among palm trees and vibrant bougainvillea, Jessica existed in a state of suspended terror. Ghost’s fiancée, Chioma, a woman with kind eyes and hands hardened by work, had become her unexpected guardian angel. The modest house, a world away from Scar’s penthouse luxury, was a fragile sanctuary.
Days bled into each other, filled with gnawing fear for Sebastian, crushing guilt over her family’s imprisonment, and the paralyzing knowledge that she was hunted. She scanned local news on a burner phone Ghost provided, dreading the headline announcing Scar’s death. The silence was almost worse.
Then, the nausea started. Not the sharp anxiety she was used to, but a deep, rolling sickness that hit her most mornings. At first, she blamed the stress, the unfamiliar village food. But when it persisted, accompanied by a profound exhaustion and a strange tenderness in her breasts, a terrifying, wondrous possibility began to dawn.
One morning, after retching into a basin behind the small house, Chioma found her pale and trembling. The older woman took one look at her, her gaze softening with sudden understanding. Without a word, she disappeared into the village market and returned an hour later, pressing a small, unmarked paper packet into Jessica’s hand. Inside was a simple pregnancy test.
Hands shaking, Jessica locked herself in the tiny bathroom. The wait for the result felt like an eternity. She stared at the small plastic window, her heart hammering against her ribs, her mind a whirlwind of fear and impossible hope. Then, two clear, unmistakable lines appeared.
Pregnant.
The world tilted. She sank onto the cool concrete floor, the test clutched in her hand. Sebastian’s child. Conceived in the deep, healing love they’d shared after Amanda’s first assault, before the poison, before the betrayal. A life growing inside her while its father lay poisoned, believing she’d tried to kill him, vowing to end her life himself.
Terror threatened to engulf her. They were fugitives. Hunted. Scar wanted her dead. Amanda wanted her destroyed. How could she bring a child into this nightmare? How could she protect it?
But then, gazing at those two lines, a fierce, primal resolve ignited within her, burning away the despair. This wasn't just about her anymore. This was about their child. Scar’s heir. The living proof of their love, conceived before the poison, before the lies.
She placed a trembling hand on her still-flat stomach. The fear didn't vanish, but it was joined by a steely determination. She couldn't run forever. She couldn't let her child be born into a life of hiding, branded by its mother's supposed crime. She had to clear her name. Not just for herself, not just for Sebastian, but for this tiny, fragile life growing inside her.
She had to prove her innocence. Find the real traitor. Expose Amanda. And she had to reach Sebastian, make him see the truth, before his rage or Amanda’s schemes destroyed them all. For the sake of their child, she had to fight. Or they would all die – her, the baby, Sebastian, consumed by the poisonous lies.
Emerging from the bathroom, Jessica met Chioma’s knowing gaze. There were no words. Jessica simply nodded, her eyes no longer filled with just fear, but with the fierce, terrifying light of a mother’s resolve. The hunted woman was gone. In her place stood a lioness, ready to fight for her cub and its father, even if the father himself held the gun. The battle for truth, for love, and for the future of their child had truly begun.
TO BE CONTINUED...

Speedy and Crispdal Finally end their relationship after 3 years

You see this love thing ? It’s really complicated . Be careful with the blessings you tap on the internet. We could never imagine that this two will end their relationship. Imagine taking pics , doing videos and touring the world together just to come go their separate ways ? Omo this one pain me .

Few minutes ago Speedy just shared on her TikTok story that they have decided to end their relationship. She made it clear that it wasn’t easy and all of them faught to save the relationship . They did all they could and finally decided to to end it . They are NO LONGER IN A RELATIONSHIP, they are officially engaged and definitely getting married by December.

See your head , we knew you were waiting to drop a comment like “ You knew it won’t last “ . Na u no go last for bed .

Moral lesson : Congratulations. True love still exists .

*THE RESTORER'S DAILY GUIDE*

DATE: THURSDAY 19TH JUNE 2025

THEME: *ACTIVATE YOUR DIVINE INTELLIGENCE*

MEMORIZE
Job 32:8
[8]But there is [a vital force] a spirit [of intelligence] in man, and the breath of the Almighty gives men understanding. [Prov. 2:6.] [AMP]

READ
Acts 6:1-7
And in those days, when the number of the disciples was multiplied, there arose a murmuring of the Grecians against the Hebrews, because their widows were neglected in the daily ministration.
Then the twelve called the multitude of the disciples unto them, and said, It is not reason that we should leave the word of God, and serve tables.
Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business.
But we will give ourselves continually to prayer, and to the ministry of the word.
And the saying pleased the whole multitude: and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolas a proselyte of Antioch:
Whom they set before the apostles: and when they had prayed, they laid their hands on them.
And the word of God increased; and the number of the disciples multiplied in Jerusalem greatly; and a great company of the priests were obedient to the faith.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
*The brightest minds in the universe are those who study under the LORD.*

MESSAGE
Yesterday we saw the awesome necessity of functioning with quick understanding in the fear of the LORD.

This is vitally necessary because, we do not always know what to do because of the high percentage of our ignorance due to spiritual blindness and the impact of darkness on our spiritual senses. This is why we need to be extraordinarily passionate about our fellowship with the LORD.

We need the LORD much more than ever.

Today's memory verse tells us that we already have a vital force or a spirit of intelligence in us which requires an activation by the breath of the Almighty God.

Three spiritual exercises are vital to activating our divine intelligence.

1. BE CEASELESS IN PRAYERS.
Why we should pray always and spend more time in prayers is because through prayers we reduce our ignorance and by spending time daily in God's word, we increase our capacity for divine intelligence.

The Lord Jesus Christ in His earthly days spent so much time in prayers as to make it a notable feature of His earthly life and ministry because He had to function in alignment with the will of His Father, and to do this perfectly, He had to battle with His humanity to align with His divinity. We were only permitted to see that He battled with His humanity when He was praying in the garden of Gethsemane before His passion. However, He allowed His humanity to be conquered by the perfect will of His Father through willing submission and obedience.

The altar of incessant prayers is a necessity because that is where we reduce our ignorance and resistance to God's perfect will for our lives.

The Bible puts it this way;
Jeremiah 33:3
[3]Call to Me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things, fenced in and hidden, which you do not know (do not distinguish and recognize, have knowledge of and understand).

2. REGULAR INTAKE OF GOD’S WORD.
The act of regular intake of the Word of God is necessary because through it we expose ourselves to divine light and increase our intelligence.
See;
Psalm 119:105,130
[105]Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. [Prov. 6:23.]
[130]The entrance and unfolding of Your words give light; their unfolding gives understanding (discernment and comprehension) to the simple.

3. SPEAK FORTH GOD’S WORD REGULARLY.
The act of speaking forth the word of God through teaching others, preaching, witnessing, or prophetic confession of God's Word increases our learning and divine brightness in God.
Proverbs 16:21
The wise in heart shall be called prudent: and the sweetness of the lips increaseth learning.
Proverbs 16:23
The heart of the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips.

Beloved, availing yourself in God's presence regularly is making yourself a student of the LORD.

*Those who are privileged to study under the LORD are the brightest minds in time and in eternity*

ACTION STEPS
1. Prayerfully meditate on today's devotional guide.
2. Be determined to keep on reducing your ignorance and increasing your intelligence.
3. Insist on a regiment of tight spirituality with the Lord Jesus Christ.

REMEMBER
*The brightest minds in the universe are those who study under the LORD.*

PRAYERS
Dear heavenly Father, Thank you for today's devotional guide. I receive grace to accept the responsibility of activating my divine intelligence through the exercise of higher spirituality in Jesus name. Amen.

AUTHOR: JEDIDIAH DAVID

DAILY READING: 2Chronicles 2-4; Psalms 144-145; Hebrews 11-12;

HYMN
1
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

2
When darkness hides His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the vail.

3
His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the ’whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

4
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
On ,may I then in Him be found,
Clothed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne!

PLEASE SHARE

*DIABETES*
Diabetes is a chronic metabolic disorder characterized by high blood glucose levels, often leading to damage to the heart, blood vessels, eyes, kidneys, and nerves.

The main types of diabetes include type 1,
type 2, and gestational diabetes.

Types of Diabetes:

*Type 1 Diabetes:*
This type is an autoimmune disease where the body's immune system attacks the insulin-producing cells in the pancreas, resulting in little to no insulin production.
It often develops in childhood or adolescence but can occur at any age.


*Type 2 Diabetes:*
In this type, the body either doesn't produce enough insulin or its cells don't respond properly to insulin (insulin resistance). This leads to a buildup of glucose in the bloodstream.
Type 2 diabetes is the most common type and usually develops in adulthood, but it can also occur in children.

*Gestational Diabetes:*
This type develops during pregnancy and typically resolves after childbirth. However, women who have gestational diabetes have a higher risk of developing type 2 diabetes later in life.

*Prediabetes:*
This is a condition where blood sugar levels are higher than normal but not high enough to be diagnosed as diabetes. Individuals with prediabetes are at higher risk of developing type 2 diabetes.

Treating diabetes involves a multifaceted approach, including lifestyle modifications like diet and exercise, and often requires medication, such as insulin or non-insulin antihyperglycemic agents. The specific formulation used depends on the type of diabetes and individual patient needs.

Types of Diabetes and Treatment Approaches:
Type 1 Diabetes:
Primarily requires insulin therapy due to the body's inability to produce insulin. Insulin is administered through injections or an insulin pump, mimicking the natural function of the pancreas.

Type 2 Diabetes:
Often managed initially with diet and exercise, but may require medication as well. Medications can include oral antidiabetic drugs (e.g., sulfonylureas, metformin, GLP-1 receptor agonists) or insulin therapy.

Gestational Diabetes:
Usually managed with diet, exercise, and potentially insulin, especially if blood sugar levels are not controlled.

Formulation Methods:
Diet and Exercise:
These play a crucial role in managing blood sugar levels, improving insulin sensitivity, and promoting overall health.

Insulin Therapy:
Involves administering insulin to lower blood sugar levels. Different types of insulin are available, including short-acting, rapid-acting, and long-acting options, and are chosen based on individual needs.

Non-Insulin Antihyperglycemic Medications:
These drugs work in different ways to lower blood sugar levels, such as by increasing insulin production, improving insulin sensitivity, or slowing down glucose absorption.
Other Treatments:
May include therapies like islet cell transplantation (a more advanced treatment that restores insulin-producing cells) or insulin pumps (devices that deliver insulin continuously, mimicking the body's natural function).

Example of a Formulation (Combination Therapy):
A common approach for type 2 diabetes is a combination of oral antidiabetic medications (like metformin) and insulin, used when oral medications alone are not sufficient to control blood sugar.

Some formulations may also include other treatments like GLP-1 receptor agonists, which can help improve blood sugar control and may also lead to weight loss.

Important Considerations:
Individualized Treatment:
The specific formulation used should be tailored to each patient's individual needs, taking into account factors like their age, other health conditions, and medication preferences.

Monitoring and Adjustments:
Regular blood sugar monitoring and follow-up appointments are essential to ensure the formulation is working effectively and to make necessary adjustments.

Education and Support:
Patient education is crucial to ensure proper medication use and understanding of the diabetes management plan.

Diabetes treatment formulation involves a comprehensive.

1. *Dietary changes*: Balanced meal planning, carbohydrate counting.

2. *Physical activity*: Regular exercise, such as walking, jogging..

3. *Weight management*: Maintaining a healthy weight.

Monitoring and Adjustments
1. *Blood glucose monitoring*: Regular tracking of blood sugar levels.

2. *A1C testing*: Monitoring long-term glucose control.

3. *Medication adjustments*: Healthcare provider-guided changes.

Education and Support
1. *Diabetes education*: Understanding the condition, treatment and self-management.

Over time, diabetes can damage blood vessels in the heart, eyes, kidneys and nerves. People with diabetes have a higher risk of health problems including heart attack, stroke and kidney failure. Diabetes can cause permanent vision loss by damaging blood vessels in the eyes.


*DIET PLAN ON DIABETES PATIENT*

*A diabetic diet focuses on managing blood sugar levels through a balanced intake of carbohydrates, protein, and healthy fats, while also prioritizing whole, unprocessed foods and limiting added sugars and refined grains.*

*Principles of a diabetic diet:*
Carbohydrates: Choose complex carbohydrates like whole grains, fruits, vegetables, and legumes.

*These are digested more slowly, preventing rapid spikes in blood sugar.*

*Protein:* Include lean protein sources such as fish, chicken, turkey, eggs, beans, and lentils.

*Healthy Fats:* Opt for healthy fats like olive oil, avocados, nuts, and seeds.

*Fiber:* Increase fiber intake through whole grains, vegetables, and fruits to help regulate blood sugar.

*Portion Control:* Be mindful of portion sizes to avoid overconsumption of carbohydrates and calories.

*Limit Added Sugars:* Reduce intake of sugary drinks, desserts, and processed foods.

*Regular Meal Times:* Eat meals at regular intervals to maintain stable blood sugar levels.

*Foods to include:*
Non-starchy vegetables: Spinach, leafy greens, carrots, bell peppers.

*Whole grains:* Whole wheat bread, brown rice, quinoa, oats.

*Fruits:* Choose whole fruits over juices or dried fruit.

*Lean protein:* Fish, chicken, turkey, eggs, beans, lentils.
Low-fat dairy: Milk, yogurt, cheese.

*Healthy fats:* Olive oil, avocados, nuts, seeds.
Foods to limit or avoid:
Sugary drinks: Soda, juice, sports drinks.
Refined grains: White bread, white rice, pasta.
Processed foods: Fast food, chips, sugary snacks.

Saturated and trans fats: Found in processed meats, butter, and fried foods.

Example meal plan:
*Breakfast:* Oatmeal with berries and nuts, or a lean protein omelet with vegetables.


*Lunch:* Salad with grilled chicken or fish, whole-grain bread, and vegetables.

*Dinner:* Baked chicken or fish with roasted vegetables and brown rice.

Snacks: Fruits, vegetables, nuts, or a piece of whole-grain bread with a small amount of low-fat cheese.

*Additional Tips:*
Read food labels: Pay attention to sugar and carbohydrate content.

Consult with a registered dietitian: A dietitian can help create a personalized meal plan.

*Stay hydrated:* Drink plenty of water throughout the day.

*Be active:* Regular physical activity helps improve insulin sensitivity and blood sugar control.

*Manage stress:* High stress levels can impact blood sugar.

*Don't skip meals:* Regular meals help prevent blood sugar swings.

*Monitor your blood sugar:* Regularly check your blood sugar levels to track your progress and make adjustments to your diet.

*Consider cultural preferences:* Incorporate healthy versions of traditional Nigerian dishes into your meal plan.

Use the plate method: Fill half of your plate with non-starchy vegetables, a quarter with lean protein, and a quarter with a carbohydrate.

*POTENTIAL WARNING SIGNS OF DIABETES* include increased thirst, frequent urination, unexplained weight loss, excessive hunger, fatigue, blurred vision, slow-healing wounds, numbness or tingling in hands/feet, frequent skin or vaginal yeast infections, and dark skin patches.

More detailed look at each of these signs:
1. Increased Thirst and Frequent Urination:
Excessive thirst (polydipsia) and frequent urination (polyuria) are common early symptoms, especially in type 1 diabetes.

2. Unexplained Weight Loss:
Despite increased appetite, unexplained weight loss can be a sign of type 1 diabetes, as the body is unable to utilize glucose for energy.

3. Excessive Hunger:
Increased appetite (polyphagia) can occur as the body tries to compensate for the inability to use glucose.

4. Fatigue:
Persistent tiredness and weakness can be a result of high blood sugar levels and dehydration from frequent urination.

5. Blurred Vision:
High blood sugar can affect the lens and cause changes in fluid levels in the eye, leading to temporary blurring.

6. Slow-Healing Wounds:
Diabetes can impair blood circulation, slowing down the healing process of cuts and sores.

7. Numbness or Tingling in Hands/Feet:
Nerve damage (neuropathy) from high blood sugar can cause tingling or numbness, particularly in the extremities.

8. Frequent Skin or Vaginal Yeast Infections:
High blood sugar can create an environment for yeast to thrive.

9. Dark Skin Patches:
Acanthosis nigricans, characterized by dark, velvety patches in skin folds (like armpits, neck, groin), can be a sign of type 2 diabetes.

10. Shin Spots (Diabetic Dermopathy):
These round, brown or reddish-brown spots, often on the shins, can be a sign of diabetes and may fade after diabetes is well-controlled.

*Several herbs medicine for management blood sugar levels, including cinnamon, fenugreek, bitter melon, it's very important to check the patient sugar levels before incorporating them into your routine, especially if you have diabetes.*

Herbs and Supplements for Blood Sugar Control:

*Cinnamon:* Studies suggest cinnamon can help lower glucose levels and improve insulin sensitivity.

*Fenugreek:* This herb is known to improve glucose tolerance and reduce blood sugar levels.

*Bitter Melon:* This plant has been traditionally used to manage diabetes and may help with blood sugar control.

*Milk Thistle:* Some research indicates milk thistle may help lower blood sugar and protect against diabetes-related complications.

*Gymnema:* This herb is believed to help regulate blood sugar levels and suppress cravings for sweets.

*Ginger:* Ginger has anti-diabetic, anti-oxidative, and hypolipidemic properties that may help manage blood sugar.

*Aloe Vera:* Aloe vera may help improve insulin sensitivity and lower blood sugar levels.
Berberine: This supplement is known to help control blood sugar and lipid metabolism.

*Turmeric:* Turmeric is a spice with anti-inflammatory and anti-diabetic properties that may help regulate blood sugar.

*Holy Basil:* This herb is believed to improve glucose tolerance and regulate blood sugar levels.

*Oregano:* Oregano oil may help lower blood sugar and reduce oxidation of lipoprotein in the blood.

*Aegle marmelos (Bilva):* A study showed that the aqueous extract of Bilva leaves can improve digestion, reduce blood sugar, and lower cholesterol levels.

*Nopal Cactus:* Nopal cactus may help control high blood sugar and cholesterol levels when incorporated into the diet.

*Curry Leaves:* Curry leaves may improve insulin sensitivity and help lower blood sugar.

*Apple Cider Vinegar:* The acetic acid in apple cider vinegar may help lower blood sugar levels.
Ginseng: Ginseng may help improve insulin sensitivity and regulate blood sugar levels.

*Probiotics:* Some research suggests probiotics may help improve blood sugar control and insulin sensitivity.

*Berberine*: Lowers blood sugar, improves insulin sensitivity.

*Ginseng*: May improve insulin sensitivity, glucose metabolism.

Methods
1. *Tea infusions*: Herbal teas, such as gymnema or fenugreek.

2. *Capsules or tablets*: Standardized extracts of herbs like berberine.

3. *Powders or extracts*: Added to food or drink Considerations
Ensure safe integration with conventional treatment.

. *Quality control*: Choose reputable sources.

. *Monitoring*: Regularly track blood sugar levels.


Potential Benefits
1. *Blood sugar control*: Some herbs may help lower blood sugar.

2. *Insulin sensitivity*: Certain herbs may improve insulin function.

3. *Antioxidant properties*: Some herbs may reduce oxidative stress.

As a complementary and alternative medicine practitioner, I'd describe various ways to formulate and use herbal treatments for diabetes management:
Herbal Formulations.

1. *Teas*: Infusions or decoctions of herbs like Gymnema Sylvestre, Fenugreek, or Cinnamon.

2. *Capsules/Tablets*: Standardized extracts of herbs like Berberine, Ginseng, or Turmeric.

3. *Powders/Extracts*: Added to food or drinks, such as Gymnema or Fenugreek powder.

4. *Tinctures*: Concentrated herbal extracts, often used sublingually.

Methods
1. *Combination therapy*: Blending multiple herbs for synergistic effects.

2. *Individualized treatment*: Tailoring herbal remedies to each patient's needs.

3. *Lifestyle integration*: Combining herbal treatments with dietary changes and exercise.

Popular Herbs
1. *Berberine*: Blood sugar regulation, insulin sensitivity.

2. *Gymnema Sylvestre*: Traditionally used to support blood sugar control.

3. *Fenugreek*: May improve glucose tolerance, insulin sensitivity.

4. *Cinnamon*: Potential blood sugar-lowering properties.

Considerations
1. *Quality control*: Sourcing high-quality herbs.

2. *Dosage and potency*: Ensuring effective and safe dosing.

3. *Interactions and contraindications*: Monitoring potential interactions with conventional medications.


*Treatment plan for the management of diabetes*

King of bitter, abere seed,bitter leaf and bitter kola

From personal experience, both King of Bitters and Abere Seed live up to their reputations but in different ways.

*King of Bitters* has a sharp, intense bitterness that fully activates all the bitter-sensitive areas of the tongue. It hits hard the moment it touches your tongue but fades relatively quickly. The initial impact is strong, but it doesn’t linger for too long.

*Abere Seed*, on the other hand, offers a more complex bitterness. It not only stimulates the bitter taste buds but seems to engage the sour-sensitive areas as well.

The bitterness hits hard—just like King of Bitters—but unlike it, the taste lingers stubbornly. It stays on your tongue, often making you want to scrape it off. That lingering bitterness is what sets it apart.

*Bitter Leaf* falls somewhere in between. Its bitterness is noticeable and persistent but not as sharp as King of Bitters nor as lingering as Abere Seed. In my experience, *Bitter Kola* shares a similar bitterness level with Bitter Leaf—distinct but not overwhelming.

Now, imagine combining these four potent botanicals—King of Bitters, Abere Seed, Bitter Leaf, and Bitter Kola—into one powerful herbal formulation:
*Know as Bitters Capsule*.

This herbal blend could be nature’s answer to some of the most stubborn ailments. From supporting *liver health* to reversing *diabetics status, fighting hepatitis*, and even showing promise in the *treatment of cancer*—bitter plants hold remarkable healing potential.

Yes, Nature truly put healing essence in bitter herbs.

You can also use
Nri product
D3 orignic
De-defix
Cuminus oil
Green tea
Majik tea

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