BREAKING: Israel Reportedly Greenlights Full Occupation of Gaza as Ceasefire Talks Collapse

According to top Israeli media, Prime Minister Netanyahu’s office is done playing games — and the word out now is blunt: “We are going to occupy the Gaza Strip.”

Yes, you read that right. After nearly two years of war, hostage negotiations gone nowhere, and a Hamas leadership still firmly entrenched, Israeli leadership says the time for half-measures is over.

“Hamas won’t release the hostages without total surrender… if we don’t act now, the hostages die of starvation and Gaza stays under Hamas control,” a senior official told Channel 12’s Amit Segal.

Here’s what’s happening:
• Israel’s Security Cabinet is meeting Tuesday to approve next moves
• Military is preparing to move into parts of Gaza previously untouched
• Ceasefire talks with Hamas have officially hit a dead end
• U.S. envoy Steve Witkoff’s plan to “end the war” seems DOA

So after months of “delicate diplomacy” (read: nothing happening), the gloves may finally be coming off.

“Victory” is back on the table. And Israel’s about to take matters into its own hands.

#Israel #GazaWar #Hamas #Netanyahu #MiddleEast #Hostages #CeasefireCollapse #NoMoreTalks #VictoryOrNothing #DefendIsrael #WarCabinet #AmericaFirst #MAGA

*SCHOOL WITCHES *

*Episode One: The Meat of the Innocent*

The sun stood reluctantly over Abuja, its golden face veiled in clouds as if it too dreaded what would unfold at Ivory City College. Chinasa sat quietly at the back seat of her parents' car, fingers twisting the hem of her green skirt, her heart pounding like a caged drum. Her eyes darted from her father’s stern silence to her mother’s gentle hands resting over hers.

It was her final year in junior secondary school—JSS Three. The year that mattered.

The car rolled to a stop in front of Hostel A, and as the door swung open, her mother stepped out first. Chinasa hesitated. Her father came around, opened her door, and handed her the small purple travel bag.

"Chinasa, be strong," her mother whispered as she embraced her tightly, her perfume clinging to Chinasa like a memory that wouldn’t wash off.

Tears rolled down her cheek before she could stop them.

They waved at her from the car as they drove off, and Chinasa stood frozen, her chest crumbling like dry leaves underfoot.

Then came the whirlwind of noise—

"Na wa o! Chinasa you dey cry?"

She turned.

Betty, her wild-haired best friend, sprinted across the hostel lawn, flanked by Asia and Chommy. They wrapped their arms around her, bursting into giggles, teasing and tugging playfully at her braids. Chinasa laughed through tears as they grabbed her boxes and dragged her toward the hostel doors.

Inside the large hall, the air was thick with the musty scent of bodies and bunk beds. Over two hundred girls shared the space, giggling, gossiping, some already changing into dorm wear. Asia and Betty helped her unpack, throwing jokes as they folded her clothes into the metal locker beneath the bunk.

Then the assembly bell clanged.

Like soldiers in chaos, students poured out into the gravel paths, flowing into the giant hall with rusted fans and a faint smell of varnish. On stage stood Mrs. Barbara, headmistress of Ivory City College, a woman known for her thick-rimmed glasses and voice that cracked like thunder.

"Welcome to a new term at Ivory City!" she roared. "This is not your village. Obedience is not optional. You are young women being prepared for society!"

Behind her stood the new prefects, eyes sharp as hawks. Some students clapped. Some stared like hostages.

That evening, the dining hall erupted with madness.

Noise bounced from wall to wall. Pantry boys and girls served trays of fried rice and chicken, but order was a myth. Students screamed across tables, fought over meat, some devoured food with open mouths, utensils forgotten.

At one corner, Chinasa sat with Betty, Asia, Chommy—and three boys from their class. Among them was Victor, tall, quiet, with a face sculpted like it belonged in a storybook. He stared at Chinasa like he was seeing a spirit.

She didn’t notice.

From her school bag, she brought out a silver flask, its body smooth and warm from the sun. She opened it, and thick chunks of stewed meat slid out, oily, glistening, spiced. The aroma captured the attention of everyone around her. Asia and Chommy didn’t wait—they scooped pieces greedily, stuffing their mouths. The boys reached for some too.

All except Victor.

He just watched her.

Betty nudged Chinasa. “Why you no go chop your own meat? You dey do fine girl?”

“I’m okay with the chicken they gave us,” Chinasa replied quietly.

“No try that nonsense,” Betty said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Na my mum prepare this meat for you. Anything I eat, you go eat too.”

Chinasa hesitated. The meat looked too rich, too tender to resist. Guilt slid off her like a shawl. She picked a chunk and placed it over her green rice. The first bite melted in her mouth—juicy, buttery, laced with flavors she’d never tasted before.

“Betty, this meat is mad o! What meat is this?”

Betty grinned. “Human meat.”

Chinasa stopped chewing. “What?”

“I dey joke jare. It’s from my papa’s ranch. Young bull. Special breed.”

Chinasa laughed. “Better talk true. This meat taste like sin.”

They all laughed.

But shortly after, Chinasa’s vision blurred. The world tilted like a room with a crooked floor. She stood up, mumbling something about needing to rest. The walk to the hostel was like wading through fog.

By the time she lay on her bed, her bones felt hollow. Then darkness took her.

---

She was flying.

Her arms were wings—feathers sprouting from her shoulders. She gasped for air. She wasn’t dreaming; she was moving through night sky, trees rising below like jagged teeth.

She slammed into a tree. Pain pierced her chest.

She spiraled through the wind like a falling star, unable to scream.

She crashed into a forest clearing.

The open space was lit by hundreds of fire torches, their flames casting shadows on more than five hundred masked dancers circling a throne carved of skulls and bone. They wore brown ragged clothes, chanted in a language older than pain. The drums shook the ground.

White men. Black women. Children. Teenagers.

Witches.

At the center, on the throne, sat the Queen Mother—masked, unmoving, glowing.

“Unmask!” her voice rang like a bell soaked in fire.

One by one, the dancers removed their masks.

Chinasa gasped.

Betty.
Asia.
Chommy.
A teacher from school.
A kitchen woman.
Even the boy who once cleaned toilets.

No. No no no.

She turned to run.

But something was already behind her.

Demons.

They flew like bats but had the heads and arms of men. Their skin was scaled like crocodiles. Their eyes were blood red, tongues long and split. They grabbed her and tossed her into the center circle like a ragdoll.

“Feed her,” the Queen commanded.

“No!” Chinasa screamed, struggling, crying. “I won’t eat!”

The demons pried her jaw open. A wet, warm piece of meat was shoved into her mouth. Blood. It was blood. They forced her to swallow.

Then everything went black.

---

She woke up at 2:03 AM, gasping, drenched in sweat.

She felt like she had been beaten with iron rods. Her ribs screamed in pain. Her arms had scratches—fresh, real. Her knees were bruised.

“God… what is this?”

She leaped from her bunk, her chest pounding. She checked her arms. The marks were still there. Her body had brought the dream into the real world.

Outside, the night was silent.

Too silent.

She looked toward Betty’s bunk.

The girl was fast asleep… with a smile on her lips.

---

To be continued...

IF I can get thirty shares today I'll write three episodes tomorrow

LET'S HAVE IT.
There is no starvation in Gaza, no policy of starvation in Gaza, and I assure you that we have a commitment to achieve our war goals.

We will continue to fight until we achieve the release of our hostages and the destruction of Hamas' military and governing capabilities. They shall be there no more.

Bandits Kill 38 Hostages After Collecting ₦50m Ransom In Zamfara

A resident of the village, Ibrahim Banga, explained that the kidnappers demanded ₦1 million per hostage, and after several weeks of efforts, the community managed to raise and deliver the sum.

Bandits Kill 38 Hostages After Collecting ₦50m Ransom In Zamfara

A resident of the village, Ibrahim Banga, explained that the kidnappers demanded ₦1 million per hostage, and after several weeks of efforts, the community managed to raise and deliver the sum.

Today marks 650 days since Hamas launched its brutal invasion of Israel, slaughtering 1,200 innocent people and taking numerous hostages.

When will Hamas release those still in captivity and bring an end to this devastating war? Hezbollah, Iran, and the Houthis are no longer in a position to support them—each passing day only deepens the suffering of their own people.

This has gone on long enough. Enough is enough.

Again, Israel Kill Iran's IRGC Commander Izadi 24 Hours After Appointment Of New Intelligence Chief

In a significant escalation, Israel has assassinated Saeed Izadi, commander of the Palestinian Division in Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) Quds Force, in a targeted overnight airstrike on an apartment in Qom.

Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz confirmed the operation, stating that Izadi played a key role in funding and arming Hamas ahead of the October 7 massacre.

“A major achievement for Israeli intelligence and the Air Force. Justice for the murdered and the hostages. Israel’s long arm will reach all its enemies,” Katz declared.

The strike comes just about 24 hours after Iran appointed Majid Khademi as the new intelligence chief of the IRGC, replacing Mohammad Kazemi, who was killed in an Israeli attack earlier this week.

Kazemi himself had succeeded another intelligence chief eliminated by Israel, highlighting the rapid turnover in Iran’s security leadership amid ongoing covert warfare.

The IRGC’s intelligence wing has faced repeated decapitation strikes, with Khademi becoming the third appointee in a short span following Israel’s assassinations of his predecessors.

Katz previously revealed a 2021 intelligence document showing Hamas leaders Yahya Sinwar and Muhammad Deif requesting $500 million from I

RGC Quds Force chief Esmail Qaani to fund their war against Israel.

According to Katz, Izadi approved the request, affirming Iran’s commitment to bankroll Hamas “despite economic hardships” faced by ordinary Iranians.

The latest strike underscores Israel’s intensified campaign against Iranian operatives, signaling that no senior figure linked to Hamas’ October 7 attack is beyond reach.

*SOME NIGERIAN NEWSPAPER HEADLINES+, 20/06/2025*

FG’ll unlock potential of all states, says Tinubu

Kaduna now model of peace under Sani, says Tinubu

Food inflation: NSA, 36 states launch joint action

542 senior military officers retire

National Economic Council postpones planned 150th meeting

Organisers laud entry turnout for AFRIMA 2025

Benue IDPs protest bad conditions in camp

Lagos seals Oko-Oba Abattoir over environmental violations

Israel threatens Khamenei after Iranian missiles wound 240

Trump to make Iran war decision in ‘next two weeks’

Nigeria, Germany sign €20m renewable energy deal

Russia offers 220 Nigerians scholarships

FCCPC seals France, Belgium, Italy visa centres in Abuja


-------------------------------
*DID YOU KNOW?*

* Bluetooth gets its name from Harald “Bluetooth” Gormsson, a 10th-century Danish king who united Denmark and Norway. It was chosen as a codename during the technology’s development by Jim Kardach of Intel, as a nod to the king’s ability to unify different factions, similar to how the technology unites different devices.

* Ants are incredibly strong for their size, capable of carrying 50 times their own weight.
-------------------------------

Tinubu inaugurates Institute of Vocational Training, 100 CNG buses in Kaduna

‘Leave him alone,’ Tinubu tells security as man approaches president in Kaduna

Tinubu confers CFR honour on Dangiwa Umar for role in defending democracy

85% of Rivers N1.48tn budget was drafted by Fubara — Senate

Tinubu has no rival in Kaduna for 2027 — Speaker Abbas

Appeal Court overturns GTBank’s foreclosure of Abiola family’s Ikoyi mansion

GTBank loses bid to reclaim MKO son’s Lagos mansion

Defamation: Court grants Natasha N50m bail

Court admits DSS report linking Kanu to #EndSARS violence

#EndSARS protest: 233 security agents killed at Kanu’s incitement – DSS’ witness

Alleged terrorism: I’ve no case to answer, Kanu tells court

Man jailed 76 years for child pornography, fraud

Two Islamic clerics arraigned for scamming doctor N280m

EFCC nabs seven suspected internet fraudsters in Abuja

Benue killings: Residents sheltered attackers, gave them food, women — CDS

Benue massacre: Troops got faulty info on herders’ movements —CDS

6,260 terrorists killed, 5,365 hostages rescued in two years –DHQ

ECOWAS must boost intra-regional trade to avoid neo-colonialism – Tuggar

REA, FCMB seal N100bn renewable energy deal

DMO raises N91bn from green bond

Fight inflation with credit schemes, OPS urges govt

FG, Kano to build manufacturing hub, boost industrial growth

TCN: Vandalised towers hit 178 in six months

Telecom sector bouncing back after forex crisis, says NCC boss

Japa: FG begins housing scheme for doctors

Wike slams Abuja’s ‘big men’ for poor tax compliance

Tinubu, NASS failed to secure Nigerians — SMBLF

50 million Nigerians are sickle cell carriers – Experts

USSD debt: Telcos recover N170bn from banks

DLM Capital unveils N30bn sovereign-backed credit bond

Stanbic IBTC rights issue oversubscribed by 121.97%

Oye steps down as NACCIMA, OPSN Chairman

Pharmacy council shuts 67 illegal drug outlets in Lagos

Odua Cooperative eyes grant to revive S’West economy

Ojude Oba: Glo celebrates 20 years of sponsorship, presents cars

Bank customers petition CBN over excess charges

Body to scale up bambara nut production

Security beefed up in A’Ibom as Tinubu, Akpabio set to receive Eno to APC on Saturday

Katsina: 287 former aspirants, candidates dump PDP for coalition

AAC seeks justice for 20-year -old assaulted deaf girl

PDP, APC trade words as EFCC arrests 15 ex-Plateau lawmakers

LG fund: APC Rep warns Adeleke as Osun Assembly fumes

Adeleke hails Osun lawmaker for empowering 700 business owners

Abia won’t tolerate crime, Otti warns criminals

Kano senator rewards Qur’anic reciters with new homes

Anambra govt goes tough on landlords, gives July 1 ultimatum

Lagos, Oyo back safer gambling to curb addiction

Housing: Lagos moves to regulate agency charges

Anambra civil service commission receives ICT tools

Gombe approves additional N5,000 allowance for LG, LGEA workers

Kebbi boosts water supply, rehabilitates boreholes to solar power

LASTMA accused of covering up N70m excavator theft at Lagos yard

Imo LG bans non-govt approved vigilante groups

Kebbi CAN debunks rejection of N30m gift, says fund was for Christian crusade, projects

Niger flood: Two more decomposed corpses recovered

Kano CP orders offensive against criminal hideouts

Gombe Police abolish use of truck horns by motorcyclists

Niger police conduct Suleja raid, nab 20 suspects

Uromi killings: Kano, Edo silent as hunter compensation talks stall

-------------------------------

*TODAY IN HISTORY*

* On this day in 1991, the German parliament moved to Berlin. Bonn had been the capital of West Germany until the country’s reunification in 1990. The “Hauptstadtbeschluss” (capital decision) stipulated that the seat of government and the parliament also be moved to the “new” capital Berlin.

-------------------------------

No individual can win a game by himself. – Pele


Good morning

*Compiled by Hon. Osuji George osujis@yahoo.com, +234-8122200446*see

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 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..

*SOME NIGERIAN NEWSPAPER HEADLINES+, 16/06/2025*

Tinubu orders security chiefs to restore peace in Benue

Benue killings: Military deploys air surveillance, IG takes over security

Brent bounce: Nigerian crude hits $77 as Israel-Iran tensions boil

Appeal Court nullifies Emefiele’s asset forfeiture

Fed Govt set to acquire 12 Viper jets to boost NAF’s capability

Dangote refinery to begin petrol, diesel distribution nationwide August 15

Lagos mandates e-call-up for trucks June 16

Again, Oliseh frowns at foreign coaches

Davido cancels UK show at Tottenham Hotspur stadium amid production issues

Tanzania names major road after AfDB President, Adesina

Iran-bound businessman arrested at PH airport for ingesting 53 wraps of cocaine

Italy-bound passenger arrested with drugs hidden in winter jackets

Three nabbed in Ghana for smuggling stolen Nigerian SUVs

Nigerian nationals in India beg FG: We want to come home


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*DID YOU KNOW?*

* The Magna Carta, meaning “Great Charter,” is a historical document that King John of England agreed to in 1215, granting certain rights and liberties to barons and free men. It established the principle that the king was not above the law and paved the way for limited government and the rule of law.

* 99.9% of your DNA is identical to very other human – it’s the 0.1% that makes us unique.
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Tinubu hails fathers as pillars of nation-building

Tinubu congratulates Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar at 83

Senate pledges electoral reform, constitutional review ahead of 2027

Senate introduced 983 Bills, passed 108 into law in two years, says Bamidele

Reps to convene legislative dialogue on national security architecture Monday

Tinubu not first president to borrow, Oshiomhole defends loan request

Court orders execution of Ebonyi man over teen’s death in rape case

Lawyer summoned over missing suspect in N36.8m cybercrime case

Special forces deployed to battle terrorists in Benue

Terror kingpins surrender, free 16 hostages in Katsina amnesty deal

Umahi frowns at slow pace of work on Enugu-Onitsha highway

Livestock devt: FG moves to resuscitate 144,000 hectares Gombe grazing reserve

Trade ministry halts office relocation, to renovate headquarters

Lagos to host Africa’s supply chain devt summit

N3.6bn ground rent: FG in last-minute talks with embassies

FCTA to protect elderly people from abuse

UniAbuja, UNN governing boards yet to meet over substantive VCs’ appointments

CONMESS: S’West medical lecturers confirm payment post-strike

Nigerian editors to discuss national security, cohesion at Enugu convention

Ohanaeze Ndi-Igbo applauds Tinubu, Umahi on East-West Road, others

2027: Electronic Transmission Of Results Should Be Mandatory – Prof. Jega

I nearly contested for President after June 12 struggle — Soyinka

E-call-up: IPMAN directs members to boycott Lekki-Epe corridor

Despite short week, stock market posts N513bn growth

Israel-Iran conflict: Marketers hike petrol prices as crude oil hits $74pb

Tinubu’s solo endorsement by N’East APC leaders triggers outrage

2027: Aiyedatiwa backs Tinubu’s re-election bid

Okowa, Delta deputy gov absent as Nwoko hosts APC meeting

Adeleke warns Osun radio stations against inciting public, threatens sanction

I’ve no problem with my predecessor, says Eno

Gov mourns as Plateau CAN chairman dies

God sent me to crush cultism in Edo – Okpebholo

Imo claims cabals behind state judiciary crisis

Lagos tanker drivers threaten to stop fuel loading over e-call-up fees

Akure families evict landlords, cite S’Court victory

Kwara Pilgrims Get $500 Refund After Dollar Swap Fraud In Saudi Arabia

Kogi plans rent-to-own housing scheme for civil servants

NYSC halts Lagos camp renovation for orientation exercise

Lagos builds psychiatric hospital to tackle gambling, others

Lagos CP redeploys tactical commander, orders probe over N10m ‘bribe’, others

Bauchi CP mourns as about-to-wed DPO, two friends killed in crash

Two arrested for possessing stolen cement trucks in Anambra

Church Collapses On Worshippers In Taraba

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*TODAY IN HISTORY*

* On this day in 1976, South African police killed hundreds of protesting schoolchildren. An estimated 20,000 youth were protesting against the introduction of Afrikaans as the languages of instruction in their schools when police officers started firing into the crowd.

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You gotta keep ur head up even when the road is hard, never give up. – Tupac Shakur

Good morning

*Compiled by Hon. Osuji George osujis@yahoo.com, +234-8122200446*