I want to make this clear: never enter a serious relationship until you're truly ready to leave singleness behind. Don't invite someone into your life if you haven't made space for them. Never open someone's heart if you have no intention of catching them when they fall in love with you. There are genuine people in the dating world right now, ready to give their all for a stable and healthy relationship with someone they've longed for their whole lives. If you're not ready to commit, don't interfere with someone else's future.

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...

**From Waste to Wealth: Transforming Our Future**

**Embrace the Circular Economy!**

Did you know that what we consider waste can actually be a valuable resource? The concept of "From Waste to Wealth" highlights the incredible potential of recycling, upcycling, and reusing materials to create new products and opportunities.

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Together, we can turn waste into wealth and build a more sustainable future for generations to come!

**Let’s make a difference! **

**From Waste to Wealth: Transforming Our Future**

**Embrace the Circular Economy!**

Did you know that what we consider waste can actually be a valuable resource? The concept of "From Waste to Wealth" highlights the incredible potential of recycling, upcycling, and reusing materials to create new products and opportunities.

Follow me as I take you through how you can contribute your quota in saving the planet....

Visit my page @ GREENWORLD here in Gada.chat💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾

Together, we can turn waste into wealth and build a more sustainable future for generations to come!

**Let’s make a difference! **

SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE, IS IT REALLY A THING?

I know this is one topic many avoid, but it’s one we need to talk about.
Sex before marriage is becoming so common that it’s now seen as “normal.” Some even believe it’s how you prove love. But just because something is common doesn’t make it right.

Let me ask you:
Have you ever stopped to think about what sex really does?

It’s not just about the body. It connects your soul, your emotions, your heart. That’s why after sleeping with someone, it’s hard to just walk away.

Something deeper has been exchanged.
When you give your body before giving your commitment, things get complicated. Feelings get mixed. Expectations rise. Trust can break easily. And sometimes, heartbreak becomes the result.

Now, I’m not here to judge you. We all have a past, we've all made mistakes. But I’m here to remind you that waiting is not foolish. It’s wisdom. It’s protection. It’s saying, “I value you and I value us, enough to build a strong foundation first.”

If you’ve already had sex, listen, God is not done with you. You’re not damaged. You can start again. You can choose a fresh path. Purity is not about a perfect past; it’s about a decision you make today.

Love that waits are love that honors.
Love that respects boundaries are love that lasts.
You don’t need sex to prove love.

The right person will wait, and work on building a future with you, not using your body before making a commitment to your soul.

So yes, sex before marriage is really a thing. But you have a choice. A wise one.

Let’s build love the right way. Let’s do it God’s way. Let’s protect our hearts.

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...

*Today, By the revelational knowledge of God's Word of Truth, whatever you've been praying & asking God for since the beginning of this year, receive the speedy MANIFESTATION & ANSWERS PRAYER right now! 2 Timothy 3:7. (TPT)*

*Your future is already settled... I see God rejoicing over your matter... I see your Compassionate and Unprecedented HELPERS taken their full possession and responsibility in your life.*

*Beloved, you must learn to continually declare what God has redeemed you from. Every morning when you wake up, declare it. Speak it to yourself. Say: ‘I am delivered. I am saved, I am sanctified. I am filled with the Holy ghost. I have authority. I have divine mandate to represent heaven. I am God’s ambassador. I am anointed by God to work the works of God’ Psalm 107:1-2.*

*Declare that there is a power at work in you that makes the rulers of darkness to tremble. Declare that you are God’s powerhouse. Therefore, you can never fail. As a matter of fact, you are a terror to the devil. You have authority to tread upon serpents and upon scorpions and over all the ability of the enemy. And nothing shall by any means hurt you. There is no weapon formed against you that shall prosper. Any tongue that rises against you in judgment is condemned. Mark 16:17-18. (TPT)*

*You are born of God. You have a world overcoming faith residing on the inside of you. Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world. You have the mind of Christ. Philemon 1:6.*

*In order for you to see the manifestation of the revelation knowledge of God's Word of Truth in your life, You must acknowledge God’s promises. That is how to make the promises effective in your life. You must acknowledge every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus. If you are to receive the manifestation of every good thing that Jesus paid for, you have to acknowledge them. When you wake up in the morning, declare that they are yours, whether you see them or not.*

*I declare you'll get married. Your children will be delivered safely and they'll be taught the ways of the Lord. You are far from oppression. You will not be stranded. The ground you walk upon will celebrate you. The heaven over you will never be shut.*

*You shall be the desire of God called Hephzibah and Beulah... Never again will you be termed forsaken and thy future desolate. Isaiah 62:1-12.*

*Good Morning Your Excellency!*

*IT IS YOUR DAY OF REST, OPEN DOORS AND ANSWERS PRAYER!*

HOW DISCIPLINE HELPS YOUR SUCCESS

Many at times, after setting an alarm to determine when you will wake up in the morning, you go to sleep.

The next morning, when the alarm starts ringing, not feeling like you want to wake up just yet, you get up and turn off the alarm only to go back to sleep.

Then you sleep and when you wake up again, another two hours is gone and you have lost the time you were supposed to use to do the things you wanted to do.

There are also a lot of people, who set diet and fitness goals, using a diet and fitness plan.

Such a plan may include not eating in the morning, or at certain times of the day, and not eating junks and certain types of food.

However, when early in the morning their nostrils perceive the aroma of something delicious coming out of the kitchen, they lose their plans and go out to eat.

Or sometimes, when they come across junks that look really tasty, they begin to salivate and over time, they indulge.

Why do people behave like this?

Because majority of the human population lack the discipline that will make them stay consistent in doing the things they plan to do.

And since they can't discipline themselves enough to work for themselves, they end up having to work for other people, because a business in the hand of an undisciplined person will soon fail.

No matter what success principles or knowledge or strategy you learn, if you lack discipline, it will all fail because it take discipline to make you do the things you said you will do.

Without discipline, you will start deferring tasks you don't like, and pushing back on things you don't want to do, even though you know that they are essential to your success.

Listen, if you are going to start and scale your business, part of what you must know is that you will have to do things you don't really like, or want to do.

Consider doing such a sacrifice for your future, so that your financial life can survive and thrive.

Remember, there is no success without discipline.

The more disciplined you are, the more you will have the capacity to build success.

Hard work is nothing but a fruit of discipline, so if you lack discipline, you can't even be hardworking.

© Emmanuel Salem

Mothers this can be very helpful to you while doing your kids home work. Kindly save for future use

41 THINGS TO TELL YOUR DAUGHTERS AS THEY GROW...✍🏾

1: Tell your daughter that Money has no gender. She can make money the way any Man can make it and even more.

2: Tell her to step into the FIELD not the BED to make money. Money from the field comes with dignity, money from the Bed comes with STD.

3: Let your daughter know that she need to trade her brain not her privates to make money.

4: Train your daughter never to pray to marry a rich man, but to work to become rich girl.

5: Train your daughter never to pray to marry a Governor but to work to become the President.

6: Train your daughter that the instrument of money making is under the Hat not under the skirt.

7: Train your Daughter never to Man-hunt but to focus her focus and she will become the focus of many Men.

8: Train your daughter that no man can love her like God, so she must never trade her relationship with God with a relationship with any Man.

9: Train your daughter that internet never forget or forgive, let her know that the foolish post she makes in the internet can depose her from her post tomorrow.

10: Tell your daughter that time wait for no man, if she waste her time with a foolish man, she will wake up one day to discover that it is night time.

11: Tell your daughter that life give back what you give into it, wickedness will be fully repaid.

12: Tell your daughter that beauty is not in exposing nakedness, it is dressing to look like a Queen.

13: Tell your daughter that she is a princess and not a prostitute, tell her to dress to prove she is.

14: Tell your daughter that it is a great wickedness to sleep with the husband of another Woman.

15: let her know that married men do not love her, they only see her as available sex toy to satisfy the urge in them.

16: Let your daughter know that the best friend she can keep is God, He can not disappoint her.

17: let your daughter know that beauty without brain makes one look like a Decorated pig.

18: teach your daughter to believe in herself because she is capable of doing whatever she believes she can do.

19: Teach your daughter never to think that wealth is sexually transmitted. Sleeping with wealthy men will only make her a whore not wealthy.

20: tell your daughter good look does not make a man a good Man. He can have 6 PACKS and be a PACK of trouble.

21: teach your daughter never to be a Run girl because run girls normally RUN into trouble.

22: Tell your daughter knowing God is not negotiable and being righteous should be her entire Life principle.

23: Tell your daughter time go fast and wait for no one, she should stop thinking she has time to waste, she should get up now before it is too late.

24: Tell your daughter nobody wants to marry a liability, every man is looking for Help-meet not help-eat.

25: Tell your daughter she must have her own sources of income. A woman without her own sources of income will be embarrassed by her husband, in law and even her own Children.

26: Tell your daughter it is not all that glitters that are gold Some May even be a ball of fire.

27: Tell your daughter her body is not for sale but to preserve it for the man that deserve it after her wedding.

28: Tell your daughter failure is not the end but a bend.

29: Tell your daughter there is no height she can not attain, if she can just dare it.

30: Tell your daughter courtship is not marriage, she can still let go any man with red flags.

31: Tell your daughter that a broken courtship is not a divorce she can still get out of relationship at any time before wedding.

32: Tell your daughter she is beautiful, if a guy tells her she is, she will say my Dad told me too.

33: Tell your daughter never to be a runs girl, because this will ruin her future and destiny.

34: Tell your daughter that Marriage is more important than Wedding, she should take more time to prepare for marriage than wedding.

35: Tell your daughter Love is not enough for marriage, commitment, faithfulness, purity, contentment, communication, training etc are needed.

36: Tell your daughters that attitude is more than beauty.

38: Tell your daughter Labour bring favour

39: Tell your daughter she is not to submit to Men but her husband

40: Tell your daughter that marriage choice making may bring PAIN OR GAIN

41: Tell your daughter that it is not all Professors of love that are POSSESSORS OF LOVE, He may say I love you, he might actually mean I love sex.

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
PART 13
The past month had been a balm, a deep, golden reprieve after the tempest of Amanda. Sunlight seemed brighter in the penthouse, laughter came easier, and the love between Jessica and Scar felt like a fortress rebuilt stronger on the ruins of distrust. They were inseparable. Mornings lingered over shared coffee and murmured plans. Evenings were spent entwined on the sofa, Jessica reading law texts while Scar reviewed encrypted reports, his hand perpetually resting on her knee or playing with a strand of her long, dark hair. He’d taken to calling her "Counselor" with a teasing glint in his eyes, a constant, warm reminder of his investment in her future. The shadow of Amanda felt distant, a bad dream fading in the dawn of their renewed intimacy.
This particular morning bloomed with deceptive serenity. Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows, painting warm diamonds on the polished floor. Jessica, humming softly, prepared two cups of strong, dark coffee – Scar’s favorite, brewed just the way he liked it. She carried them to the balcony where he sat, immersed in a financial ledger, the Lagos skyline a glittering backdrop. He looked up as she approached, his stern features instantly softening into the smile reserved only for her. He pulled her down for a quick, tender kiss.
"Morning, Counselor," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "Smells perfect."
"It is," Jessica smiled, placing his cup before him. She settled into the adjacent chair, cradling her own cup, savoring the rich aroma and the peaceful domesticity. For a few blissful minutes, they sipped in companionable silence, the city’s hum a distant lullaby.
Then, the world shattered.
A choked gasp tore from Scar’s throat. Jessica looked over, startled. His face had gone unnaturally pale, a sickly grey undertone replacing his healthy complexion. His coffee cup clattered to the marble floor, shattering, dark liquid spreading like a stain. His hand flew to his throat, his eyes wide with a sudden, terrifying confusion.
"Sebastian?" Jessica breathed, frozen for a heartbeat.
He lurched forward, gagging violently. A thin stream of white, frothy foam bubbled from the corner of his lips. His body convulsed, muscles locking in agonizing spasms. He crashed sideways off the chair, hitting the balcony floor with a sickening thud, his limbs jerking uncontrollably.
Panic, pure and primal, seized Jessica. "SEBASTIAN!" she screamed, the sound tearing her throat. She scrambled towards him, her hands fluttering uselessly over his convulsing form. The white foam was thicker now, coating his chin. His eyes rolled back, showing the whites. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"
The penthouse exploded into chaos. Heavy footsteps pounded. William burst onto the balcony first, his face draining of color at the sight of his boss writhing on the floor, choking on foam. Ghost, a silent, perpetually watchful presence whose loyalty was unquestioned, materialized beside him, his dark eyes instantly assessing the scene with chilling calm. Two more guards followed, their expressions grim.
"Poison!" William snarled, dropping to his knees beside Scar. "Get the medical team! NOW!" One guard sprinted back inside, shouting into his comms.
Ghost efficiently helped William roll Scar onto his side, trying to clear his airway as he gagged and choked. Jessica knelt beside them, tears streaming down her face, her hands trembling as she tried to wipe the foam from his mouth. "Hold on, Sebastian! Please hold on!"
Within minutes, the penthouse became a triage zone. Scar’s private medical team arrived, moving with grim efficiency. They administered oxygen, injected emergency medications to counteract the convulsions, and stabilized him for transport. As they lifted him onto a stretcher, his body still twitching, his skin clammy and grey, Jessica felt a piece of her soul tear away. She tried to follow, clutching his limp hand.
"Where are you taking him? I need to be with him!" she pleaded.
"The hospital. Our facility," William said tersely, his face etched with worry and suspicion. "Stay here, Jessica." His tone held a command she’d never heard directed at her before.
The journey to Scar’s private, high-security hospital wing was a blur of flashing lights and suffocating dread. Jessica rode in a separate car, flanked by guards, her mind racing. *Poisoned.* The word echoed like a death knell. *How? When?* Her thoughts snagged, horrifyingly, on the image of the coffee cup. *She* had made it. *She* had handed it to him. *She* was the last person to touch it before he drank.
The sterile, cold air of the hospital corridor did nothing to calm the rising hysteria. Doctors rushed Scar into an emergency room, shutting the doors firmly. Jessica paced, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, feeling exposed and terrified. William and Ghost stood nearby, their expressions unreadable, communicating in low tones with other arriving lieutenants.
Suddenly, the tense silence was shattered by the sharp click of stiletto heels on the polished floor. Amanda. She strode down the corridor like a vengeful goddess, dressed in a sleek black pantsuit, her blonde curls impeccable, her face a mask of icy fury.
She stopped inches from Jessica, her dark eyes blazing with pure malice. "You," she spat, the word dripping venom. "You poisonous little SLUT!"
Jessica flinched, taking a step back. "Amanda, this isn't—"
"Shut your filthy mouth!" Amanda hissed, her voice low but carrying through the corridor. "You couldn't stand that he was mine! Couldn't stand that he sent you away! So you tried to kill him!" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper only Jessica could hear. "But don't worry, gutter rat. When he dies – and he will die – I'll make sure you suffer slowly. Very, very slowly. I'll peel the skin from your bones myself."
The raw hatred in Amanda’s eyes was terrifying. Before Jessica could react, Amanda raised her voice, projecting it to the gathered men. "Look at her! She made his coffee! She was alone with him! She's the only one who wanted him dead! SHE POISONED HIM!"
The accusation hung in the air, toxic and heavy. Eyes turned towards Jessica – William’s gaze hardened, others narrowed with suspicion. The seed of doubt Amanda planted found fertile ground in the fear and anger already swirling around them.
"Take her," William ordered, his voice cold, devoid of its usual respect. "Secure her. Now."
Strong hands clamped onto Jessica’s arms. "No! I didn't! I would never!" she cried, struggling futilely against the grip of two burly guards. "It was her! She did this! She threatened him! She threatened me!"
Amanda laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Lies! Desperate lies from a murderer! Lock her up!"
As Jessica was dragged away, kicking and pleading, her eyes locked with Ghost’s. His expression was inscrutable, but for a fleeting second, she saw something – not suspicion, but intense calculation. He gave her the faintest, almost imperceptible nod, then turned his attention back to the emergency room doors.
Jessica was shoved into a small, sterile holding room within the hospital, guarded heavily. Despair washed over her. Sebastian was dying. Everyone believed she’d done it. Amanda had won. Panic surged. Her family! Amanda knew where they lived! She fumbled for the phone she’d been allowed to keep, frantically dialing her mother.
"Mama!" she sobbed when the call connected. "Listen! You have to leave! Right now! Take everyone and run! Go somewhere safe! Don't tell anyone! Amanda… she… Sebastian’s poisoned… they think I did it… she’ll come for you! PLEASE RUN!"
Her mother’s voice was thick with terror and confusion. "Jessica! What? Poisoned? Baby—"
"NO TIME! RUN! NOW!" Jessica screamed before the call was abruptly cut off. One of the guards outside had heard and seized her phone.
Minutes later, William stormed into the room, his face thunderous. "Your family," he stated coldly. "They won't be going anywhere. They’re under protective custody. House arrest. For their own safety… and ours." The implication was clear: they were hostages, leverage against her.
Jessica crumpled onto the hard cot, her world reduced to crushing fear and helplessness. Sebastian was fighting for his life. Her family was imprisoned. She was branded a traitor and a murderer. And Amanda was free, weaving her web of lies.
Hours crawled by. Night fell. The hospital corridor outside her door was quiet now, only the low murmur of guards remained. Jessica sat in the dark, hugging her knees, tears long since dried, replaced by a cold, simmering fury and a gnawing terror for Sebastian. Was he still alive? Had the poison…?
The lock on her door clicked softly. It opened just enough for a shadow to slip inside. Ghost. He moved like smoke, closing the door silently behind him. His face was grim in the dim light filtering under the door.
"Miss Jessica," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "We don't have much time."
Her heart leaped into her throat. "Ghost? Sebastian? Is he—"
"Alive. But in a coma. Critical." Ghost’s words were clipped. "They’re setting you up. Amanda’s playing them all. William… he’s blinded by anger and fear for the Boss. Others are listening to her whispers."
"Ghost, I swear, I didn't—"
"I know," he interrupted, his dark eyes holding hers with unnerving intensity. "The Boss trusts you. That’s enough for me. But you can't stay here. They'll kill you before morning, or hand you to Amanda. And your family… they’re not safe either."
"What do I do?" Jessica whispered, desperation clawing at her.
"We get you out. Now." Ghost pulled a dark hoodie and a pair of nondescript trousers from a small bag. "Put these on. Quickly. We go out the service elevator, through the basement. I have a car."
"But my family! Sebastian!"
"I can't get to your family yet. Too guarded. But alive, free, you have a chance to clear your name, to find the real traitor, to help the Boss," Ghost insisted, urgency hardening his voice. "Staying is death. For you, and eventually, for them. Come on!"
Driven by terror and a fierce spark of hope ignited by Ghost’s loyalty, Jessica scrambled into the clothes. Ghost guided her silently past the guard he’d discreetly incapacitated, through deserted corridors and down service stairs. The humid night air of Lagos hit her face as they slipped out a loading dock door. A battered, unremarkable sedan idled in the shadows. Ghost shoved her into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and peeled away into the chaotic Lagos night.
Jessica stared out the window, the city lights blurring through fresh tears. Sebastian was in a coma. Her family were prisoners. The man she loved might never know she was innocent. Amanda had framed her perfectly. And somewhere, hidden among the men Scar trusted most, was a traitor who had poisoned him and nearly destroyed everything.
Ghost navigated the streets with tense precision. "Where are we going?" Jessica asked, her voice small.
"Somewhere safe. Off-grid," Ghost replied, his eyes scanning the mirrors. "We need to disappear. And we need to find out who did this. Before it's too late for everyone."
The car sped into the darkness, carrying Jessica away from the hospital, away from Sebastian’s side, away from everything she loved. She was a fugitive, branded a murderer, hunted by her lover’s men, and stalked by his vengeful ex. Her only ally was a shadow named Ghost. The fight for their lives, for their love, and for the truth had just begun, and it was a fight Jessica had to win from the shadows. The question wasn't just *who* poisoned Scar, but *who* would believe her innocence when even the man she loved was lost in a silent, poisoned sleep?
TO BE CONTINUED..