The Lord revealed His glory and presence to Israel so they will know how awesome He is and be willing to fear Him every day of their lives. Every child of God should seek a personal encounter with the Lord. This is what sustains our faith and keeps us going in the times of trials and temptation.

Gen Musa Waarns: Stop Using Social Media to Promote IPOB—It’s Threatening Nigeria The Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), General Christopher Musa, has issued a strong warning to residents of the South East against supporting or promoting the activities of the proscribed Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) and its armed wing, the Eastern Security Network (ESN), especially through social media platforms. Speaking during a community engagement visit in Omor, Anambra East LGA, Anambra State, General Musa—represented by Group Captain Ibrahim Bukar, Deputy Director of Defence Media Operations—highlighted the dangers of spreading unverified and misleading information online. He noted that such actions not only endanger the region but also threaten Nigeria’s unity and national peace. As part of a people-focused outreach within the Operation Udoka Area of Responsibility, the Defence Chief met with the Obi Eze Ana-Uku, Eze Igulube of Omor, emphasizing the military’s commitment to restoring lasting peace and security in the South East. General Musa made it clear that IPOB’s activities are harmful to both the region and the country at large, and should be firmly rejected. He condemned the growing trend of spreading false narratives pushed by outlawed groups, urging citizens to be vigilant and responsible. “People need to have trust in their military,” he said. “The military belongs to the people. We rely on you to give us credible information—when you see something, say something. Together, we can overcome insecurity and bring peace back to our communities.” He assured the people that the military remains neutral in all conflicts and is solely focused on protecting law-abiding citizens. “Our mission is not to take sides,” he added. “We are only after criminal elements. Our job is to ensure peace and safeguard the lives and properties of innocent Nigerians.” General Musa also reaffirmed the Armed Forces’ dedication to fulfilling their constitutional duty to protect the nation, adding that peace and security are vital foundations for national development and economic growth. In his response, the traditional ruler of Omor, Eze Igulube, praised the military’s consistent efforts in maintaining peace in the area. He expressed gratitude for the improved security situation, saying the presence of the Armed Forces has brought relief to the community. “Our people are farmers, peace-loving and hospitable,” the monarch said. “We deeply appreciate the courage and dedication of your personnel. We are ready to provide accurate intelligence to help your operations and keep our land safe.” He pledged the full support of the community in the ongoing efforts to restore peace and security across the South East.

YOUR WIFE ALWAYS ASKING YOU TO DISCIPLINE YOUR CHILD IS A TRAP Your wife is setting trap for you and you don't know about this but I will explain; whenever your children do something wrong your wife be calling you to come and discipline them, isn't it? That's a trap. Your children will misbehave even in the presence of your wife but she won't correct them or discipline them herself and she will be calling you to come and discipline the kids, after you finish disciplining the child(ren) and he/they starts to cry what will happen next? Your wife (she); She will start to pet the child, She will give the child food, She will rush to hug the child, She will make the child to stop crying, She will comfort the child and take him out. Some vvomen will rushes to rescue the child from the father's grip, she will be seen as the saviour meanwhile she was the one that called you to come and discipline the child and she will make some silly comments in front of the child such as (do you want to kill my child?, Do you want to injure my child?, Take it easy please, don't do him like this or like that), such stvpid comments she makes often this children pick them and see the mother as the better angel while you're the wicked bad one. You're the wicked one, you're the bully, you're the villain and the child may gradually be seeing you as the beast, the children will resent you for beating them and being too harsh on them. Believe the holy prophet indiscov that the children will gradually be loving their mother the more, This is the mistake men do, even our fathers fell for this trap our mothers set for them and it made most of us think then, that our father hated us, it's as I began to grow and have sense that I understood the effects of my father's disciplinary actions. What about children that have no sense? They'll resent you, they will hate you, they will treat their mother with more love because they will see her as the good parent while growing up and you? You'll be regarded as the wicked inhumane parent that always inflicted pain, trauma and harsh punishments on them while growing up. Don't do it, if you have been doing it please stop and call your wife to order, tell her to stop calling you and iron them out whenever they misbehave, discipline them only when they misbehave in your presence but not when they misbehave in her presence she will be calling you, tell her to stop. Indiscov is telling you today to let her discipline them herself, let her stop the behaviour of always calling you to come and discipline the children because she's building that hatred, that resentment of your children towards you. This is the reason why most children nowadays takes their mother more serious than their father that went through hell to see them survive, indiscov wants you to learn this and begin to balance things in your home, caution your wife next time she does this and make her understand that it's her duty to discipline them whenever they misbehave in her presence while it is also your duty to do the same, warn her to stop reporting the children to you and when you discipline them she will start consolation. Most men today don't like their father because of this and they pay more attention to their mother than the innocent man that always worked out his ass morning, afternoon and night to ensure the family is okay and the children are well fed. Men, please stop this.

Let me tell you a Moonlight Story 🌙 🥰🔥 Title: The Prince and the Forbidden Flame" Once upon a time, under the whispering baobab trees of Ujamaa Kingdom, there lived a noble prince named Jabari. He was brave, wise, and destined to rule after his father, King Omotayo. The kingdom adored him, yet tradition bound his every move—especially when it came to choosing a wife. Now, in the outskirts of the kingdom lived Abeni, a girl marked by the elders as an outcast. Her mother had broken tribal laws long ago, and though Abeni was innocent, she bore the curse of her lineage. She lived in the shadows of society, her presence always met with silence or stares. But Abeni had a rare gift—she could speak to animals and heal the wounded with herbs known only to the forest. One fateful night, Prince Jabari was hunting in the forest when a lion attacked his party. He was badly wounded and separated from his guards. Abeni found him unconscious by the river and tended to him with her secret herbs. She saved his life. For days, he stayed with her in her humble hut, watching her speak to birds, dance with butterflies, and heal with love. He fell in love—not with her beauty alone, but with her spirit. When he returned to the palace, his heart longed for Abeni. He announced his intent to marry her. The elders protested. The people revolted. “An outcast cannot sit on the throne!” they cried. But Jabari stood firm. He challenged the council to a test of purity. “Let the river gods judge us,” he said. “If Abeni is truly cursed, the sacred river will reject her.” On the day of the trial, all gathered by the great River Orun. The priestess invoked the gods. Abeni stepped into the water—it shimmered gold around her feet, and the winds danced in song. The gods had spoken. The people bowed. The king wept. Jabari and Abeni married beneath the full moon, surrounded by the laughter of spirits and ancestors. She became not only his queen, but the kingdom’s most beloved healer. From then on, Ujamaa no longer judged bloodlines, only hearts.

Still I Rise.....- A Note to Me💖 ********* I am allowed to feel deeply, but I will not let pain define me. I am worthy of love and support that comes without conditions. My presence is powerful. My spirit is resilient. My journey is sacred. Even when I'm misunderstood, I will not dim my light to fit in. What I give to others, I also deserve—kindness, care, and grace. I am not alone, even when the room feels empty. My strength is with me. I choose to rise above the noise and reclaim my peace. My tears are not weakness. They are healing. They are release. I walk through fire and still carry the scent of hope. No matter how many times I fall, I will always rise—stronger, wiser, braver.

Her Stepmother Forced Her to Eat from the Dog’s Bowl, But One Day the Tables Turned Amina’s once peaceful life had already begun to unravel the moment her father, Ayuba, brought Miriam into their home. At first, she was hopeful. Miriam had seemed so kind, so charming, as though she would be the mother figure Amina had always longed for after the death of her beloved mother. But soon, Amina began to notice the cracks in the façade. Miriam’s smile was as cold as the winter winds that swept through their village, and the warmth Amina had hoped to find in her new stepmother quickly faded into something far darker. As the days passed, Amina realized that Miriam wasn’t just a new face in the household—she was a force, a suffocating presence that was slowly taking over every corner of her life. Miriam insisted that Amina wake up before the sun, demanding that she fetch water from the farthest well, scrub the floors until they shone, and wash the dishes, all while the rest of the family—Miriam included—slept soundly. Amina was expected to take on every chore imaginable, and no matter how hard she worked, it was never enough. Ayuba, her father, was oblivious to the cruelty that unfolded every day. He trusted Miriam, believing her harshness was simply the way of discipline. Miriam had convinced him that Amina was lazy and unruly, needing a firm hand to learn how to be a proper woman and help run the home. He never suspected that his daughter, the girl he had once doted on, was silently suffering under the weight of his new wife’s commands. Miriam’s words were sharp and cutting, each insult a wound that slowly but surely chipped away at Amina’s spirit. "You’ll never amount to anything if you keep being this lazy," she would sneer as Amina struggled with the tasks Miriam had piled on her. "I’m not here to raise someone who is weak and useless." Amina could only nod, stifling her tears, knowing better than to speak up. Any protest would only earn her further punishment, and she had already learned how quickly Miriam could turn the smallest infraction into something far more painful. But it wasn’t just the words that left scars. Miriam’s actions were far worse. One afternoon, after Amina had spent the day cleaning the house, Miriam decided it was time for a lesson. The family was gathered around the table for dinner, and Amina, as usual, was not invited to join them. She had grown used to sitting on the edge of the room, watching them eat, her stomach growling with hunger, yet always denied the luxury of sitting with her family. Miriam, in a fit of cruelty, ordered Amina to kneel on the dirt floor next to the dog’s bowl, the same bowl that their large, mangy dog ate from every day. "If you’re not going to act like part of this family," Miriam hissed, "then you will eat like the dog you are." Amina’s heart shattered as she looked up at her father, silently pleading with her eyes. But Ayuba, oblivious to the humiliation unfolding right before him, sat at the table with his head down, focused on his meal, unaware of the terrible injustice his daughter was enduring. She had never felt so small, so invisible. With trembling hands, Amina lowered her head, trying to hide the hot tears that streamed down her face as she took a bite from the filthy bowl, the food tasting like ash in her mouth. Her stomach churned, and her heart ached, but she swallowed the shame. She wanted to scream, to cry out, but something deep inside her kept her silent. She was alone in this. No one would help her, and if she spoke out, it would only make things worse. So, she remained silent, the tears slipping down her cheeks as she ate from the dog’s bowl, the stench of the meal mixing with the deep despair in her heart. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, of freedom, of a life where she didn’t have to crawl on her knees to gain the smallest measure of respect. But for now, all she could do was endure. The following days became a blur of endless chores, insults, and the growing realization that her father’s love for her was slowly being replaced with blind devotion to Miriam. Amina felt like a ghost in her own home—present, but invisible, her pain unnoticed. She had become nothing more than a servant, a shadow in the house that had once been filled with laughter and love. And yet, in the quiet moments when Miriam was away or when Amina worked alone in the garden, she would dream. Amina dreamed of a life where she was valued, where her efforts were acknowledged, where she wasn’t forced to kneel at the feet of a cruel stepmother and eat from the dog’s bowl. In those fleeting moments, she found solace, a small hope that one day, she would rise above this life of suffering. But for now, she could only endure. For now, she was trapped in the silent betrayal of a home that was supposed to protect her, but instead had become a prison. 🚨 Missed an Episode? Don't Worry! 🚨 Like, comment and share to get all the episodes

SHE HAD A ONE NIGHT STAND WITH A BILLIONAIRE THEN THIS HAPPENED …… Episode 2✅ And then she saw two bold pink lines. Positive. Joy froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. She was pregnant. She pressed a hand to her stomach trying to make sense of it. A life was growing inside her. Lawrence Johnson's child. Tears welled in her eyes. What was she going to do? For the next few days, Joy couldn't sleep. Her mind kept racing with one question. Should she tell him? She didn't even have his phone number. The only way to reach him was through his company, Johnson Group. After struggling with the decision, she finally gathered the courage to go to his office. The Johnson Group building in Leosville was a towering glass structure that seemed to touch the sky. Inside, everything was sleek and polished, filled with expensive suits and the sound of heels clicking on marble floors. Joy felt small. She approached the front desk, her hands clenched into fists. I need to see Mr. Lawrence Johnson, she said trying to keep her voice steady. The receptionist, a tall woman with a tight bun and an even tighter expression, gave her a disbelieving look. Do you have an appointment? Joy hesitated. No, but it's important. Please, I just need a few minutes. The receptionist sighed loudly, tapping on her keyboard. Mr. Johnson doesn't meet people without an appointment. If you'd like to book one, the earliest available date is three months from now. Joy's heart sank. Three months? By then, she would already be showing. There's no way to see him sooner? She asked, desperate. The woman gave her a sharp look. Ma'am, Mr. Johnson is not someone you can just walk in and see. If you don't have an appointment, I suggest you leave. Joy stared at her, feeling a lump form in her throat. So this was how it was. She had been nothing to him that night, and now she couldn't even get five minutes of his time. She turned away slowly, feeling defeated. But as she reached the door, another thought hit her. Even if she did manage to tell Lawrence, what would he think? That she was trying to trap him. That she wanted his money. Joy's stomach twisted. She had already seen what he thought of women like her. He left her money on the nightstand like she was a prostitute. He would never believe she wasn't trying to use this pregnancy against him. And honestly, she didn't want anything from him. She didn't need his money. She didn't need his name. She would raise this baby on her own. Taking a deep breath, Joy walked out of Johnson Group, her decision made. She would never reach out to him again. He would never know about this child. She would be both mother and father. She didn't need him. She never had. And so, Joy disappeared from Lawrence's world, taking their child with her. After much thought joy had to resign from her work inorder to take care of herself and her unborn son . It was a really tough moment for her as she didn’t have any single money to even feed . At a time she considered committing an Abortion but her conscience wouldn’t let her The only person she could confined in was her old mother who accepted her whole heartedly and tried to ease the burden from her shoulders . Her mother despite her old age still took extreme care of her daughter and her unborn child . Joy and her mother would normally sit outside under the mango tree every evening to gist and talk about past events of the day but one day joy decided to bring up the idea of aborting the child her mother looked at her sternly ,Joy ,joy joy how many times did I call you Don’t make the mistake of terminating the blessing that God had sent you After saying this she stood up and went into her room to sleep leaving joy thinking to herself . She finally concluded within her not to terminate the child as it could be what God has destined . One day as joy was sweeping the front yard of their hut ,she started to feel a sharp pain at her abdomen region , she screamed in pain as her mother rushed out Her mother quickly called some men to help her and they rushed joy to the nearest hospital Push !! Push !!, The doctors voice was heard from the labour room Her mother just sat in the waiting room praying silently to herself 30 minutes later the doctor came out with a wide smile on his face He looked at joy’s mother and said happily Congratulations mama ,your daughter has just given birth to a bouncing baby boy Joy’s mother had tears of joy running down her cheeks as she rushed in to see her daughter smiling at her while holding her son She couldn’t hold back her tears as she hugged her daughter graciously Mama ,Joy called out ,meet Noah your grandson who is going to wipe both your tears and mine away . FIVE YEARS LATER The streets of Leosville bustled with life, filled with the sound of honking cars, people bargaining in open-air markets, and the distant hum of construction sites. The city had grown, just as Noah had. At just five years old, Noah Daniels was a ball of energy. His bright eyes shone with curiosity and his laughter was contagious. He was the reason Joy Daniels kept pushing forward every single day. She had worked hard over the years, climbing her way up in the interior design industry. Though she didn't have her own company yet, she had made a name for herself. Clients admired her work, and she was proud that she had built a stable life for Noah without anyone's help. She didn't need Lawrence Johnson. She had erased him from her life. But fate had other plans. It was a warm afternoon, and Joy had promised Noah a trip to Royal Crest Mall, one of the most luxurious shopping centres in Leosville. The mall was owned by none other than Johnson Group. But Joy didn't think much of that. She had long stopped worrying about Lawrence crossing paths with her. He probably wouldn't even remember her, so what were the chances? Noah ran ahead excitedly, tugging on Joy's hand as they passed through the mall's food court. Mommy, can I have ice cream? he asked, his big brown eyes filled with hope. Joy smiled. Okay, okay. Just one scoop. She led him to a small ice cream stand, waiting as the vendors scooped vanilla into a cup. Noah grinned, happily digging in as they continued walking. It was supposed to be just another normal day. Until she heard a voice. A voice that made her entire body freeze. Across the mall, standing in front of a row of luxury stores, Lawrence Johnson stood with a men in suits. He was doing his routine property inspection, something he rarely had time for, but today he had decided to visit the mall personally with his management staff. As he listened to his assistant discuss sales figures, his gaze casually swept across the food court. And then he saw the child. A small boy. Dark curly hair. A sharp jawline. A face that looked almost exactly like his own. Lawrence stopped breathing. The resemblance was too strong to ignore. His heart pounded as he watched the boy take a bite of his ice cream, laughing as his mother wiped a smudge off his cheek. And then, his eyes shifted to the woman holding the boy's hand. Something flickered in his mind, a vague sense of familiarity, but he couldn't place her. Where had he seen her before? Who was she? And why did her son look exactly like him? Before he knew what he was doing, Lawrence started walking toward them. Joy was laughing at something Noah had said when she felt a presence behind her. A dark, powerful presence. She turned, and her heart dropped. TBC…. Please let’s endeavour to react 🤲❤️

Step-by-Step: The Catholic Church after the death of a Pope 1. Confirmation of Death The Camerlengo (Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church) officially confirms the pope’s death. Traditionally, he gently calls the pope’s baptismal name three times. If there's no response, he declares the pope dead. 2. Destruction of the Fisherman’s Ring The Fisherman’s Ring, a signet used to seal official documents, is broken by the Camerlengo in the presence of cardinals. This prevents its misuse and symbolizes the end of the pope’s authority. 3. Official Announcement The Vatican makes an official public announcement. Bells may toll and mourning customs begin, including the flying of flags at half-staff in some places. 4. Nine Days of Mourning – A period of official mourning lasts nine days, during which Masses are offered for the repose of the pope’s soul. The body is prepared and displayed in St. Peter’s Basilica for public veneration. 5. Burial The pope is traditionally buried in the crypt beneath St. Peter’s Basilica (though he may request another resting place). The body is usually placed in three coffins: wood, lead, and another wooden coffin, each placed inside the other. 6. Sede Vacante (Vacant See) During this time, all governance of the Church is paused, except for routine matters handled by the Camerlengo. No new appointments or major decisions can be made until a new pope is elected. 7. Preparation for the Conclave The College of Cardinals gathers in Rome. After at least 15 days but no more than 20 days following the pope’s death, the conclave begins to elect a new pope. Only cardinals under 80 years old are eligible to vote. 8. The Conclave Held in the Sistine Chapel under strict secrecy. Voting continues until a candidate receives two-thirds majority. After a successful vote, the elected cardinal is asked: “Do you accept your canonical election as Supreme Pontiff?” If he says yes, he chooses a papal name. 9. The New Pope is Announced The cardinal proto-deacon steps onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica and declares: “Habemus Papam!” (We have a Pope!) The new pope then appears and gives his first Urbi et Orbi blessing.

“Don’t settle for someone who tolerates you. Wait for the one who celebrates you.” - Bimbo Odukoya Whenever I remember this quote by the late Bimbo Odukoya, it fires me up. Too many people are stuck in situationships, or what they consider relationships where they are merely tolerated. They walk on eggshells. They shrink themselves. They over-explain, over-apologise, and over-perform just to feel enough. In a relationship, when you are being tolerated, it feels like you’re an inconvenience. Like your existence is being managed, not embraced. And that is not love. That’s endurance. That’s someone folding their arms, watching the clock, waiting for the version of you that’s easier for them to handle. Now contrast that with being celebrated. Celebration looks like someone who lights up when they see you. Someone who leans in to understand you, not just put up with your complexities. Someone who thanks God for you, prays with you, laughs with you, and sees your presence as a gift, not a burden. Real love doesn’t make you feel hard to love. It doesn’t reduce you to your flaws or make you question your worth every two weeks. And no, waiting for that kind of love is not asking for too much. It’s asking for what’s healthy. What’s God-ordained. What’s sustainable. So, if you’re in a relationship where you feel like someone is just “managing” you, I challenge you to ask yourself this: Why am I settling for survival when I was created for a wholesome love experience? Kai. And you see this type? It is not forced. If it is there, it’s there. If it is not there, it is not there. The love that celebrates you exists. But sometimes, God can’t release that person because you’re still busy holding on to the one who only tolerates you. Please, choose someone that celebrates you. Choose a love that makes you feel like you’re home, not a guest overstaying their welcome. You are not too much. You are not a burden. You are a person to be loved loudly, fully, intentionally. Wait for that. And while you wait, become that for yourself first.

RULES TO A HAPPY, SMART & WISE LIFE....!!! 1. Speak Less, Listen More. Wisdom: Listening sharpens understanding; silence guards your dignity. Words are powerful tools — the fewer, the better, if you intend them to matter. Application: When you listen more, people reveal their true intentions. When you speak, weigh your words like a surgeon choosing his tools. Speak when your words can heal, uplift, or instruct. 2. Avoid Pointless Arguments. Wisdom: Energy is finite. Spend it where it multiplies, not where it drains. Some debates are traps designed to rob you of your peace and reputation. Application: Learn to smile and excuse yourself from verbal traps. Wise people win wars, not battles. Pick your conversations the way kings pick alliances. 3. Think Before You Speak. Wisdom: Words are seeds. Once sown, they grow — whether into flowers or thorns. Application: Practice the three-filter test: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? If it fails any, remain silent. 4. Practice Humility and Politeness. Wisdom: Humility isn’t about thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. The polite person commands more than the arrogant ever will. Application: Greet even those who despise you. Show grace to those who can do nothing for you. The seeds of kindness grow silently but fruitfully. 5. Master Emotional Discipline. Wisdom: He who angers you, controls you. Emotions are natural, but they make terrible masters. Application: Practice the pause. When emotions flare, pause, breathe, reflect, then respond with reason, not rage. 6. Keep Your Plans Private. Wisdom: Success loves silence. The unborn idea is safest in the womb of your discretion. Application: Share your victories, not your strategies. Let your results speak; let your silence confuse your critics. 7. Resist Self-Centered Conversations. Wisdom: People care more about themselves than your story. If you wish to be memorable, make them feel important. Application: Ask about others' journeys, listen intently, and respond thoughtfully. The less you talk about yourself, the more powerful your presence becomes. 8. Maintain Eye Contact & Confidence. Wisdom: Confidence isn’t loud; it’s calm, direct, and unflinching. Application: When speaking, fix your eyes on the listener with a relaxed gaze. Let your posture mirror your inner conviction. 9. Celebrate Your Uniqueness. Wisdom: The world doesn’t reward replicas; it celebrates originals. Application: Identify your strengths, embrace your flaws, and find your voice. Authenticity magnetizes the right people and repels the wrong ones. 10. Commit Fully or Don’t Begin. Wisdom: Half-heartedness is the graveyard of greatness. Application: Before starting, ask yourself, Will I finish this? Am I ready to sacrifice for it? If not, preserve your energy for a pursuit worthy of your all. 11. Silence is the Best Answer to H@ters. Wisdom: Not every insult demands your defense. Application: Treat criticism as a mirror. If it’s true, adjust. If it’s false, ignore. Do not dignify pettiness with a reply. 12. Train Your Mind to Think Critically. Wisdom: The difference between mediocrity and mastery lies in perspective. Application: Before believing anything, ask Why? and What if? Seek patterns, motives, and consequences in everything. 13. Avoid the Crowd Mentality. Wisdom: The majority is often wrong, history proves it. Application: Stand for truth, even if it means standing alone. Be bold enough to disagree respectfully when the crowd chants foolishness. 14. Dodge Drama & Manipulation. Wisdom: A wise man never enters a battle where no prize exists. Application: Don’t react to bait. Avoid circles where chaos is currency. Value your peace above fleeting vindication. 15. Ask Thoughtful, Insightful Questions. Wisdom: Questions open doors answers cannot reach. Application: When in conversation, ask ‘why’, ‘what led to that’, ‘how did you feel about it’ — it deepens connections and sharpens your wisdom. 16. Guard Your Time & Availability. Wisdom: Over-availability breeds entitlement and disrespect. Application: Be selectively accessible. Value your solitude, your time to reflect, learn, and recharge. 17. Stay Dynamic, Not Stagnant. Wisdom: Change is the only constant. Evolve, or you’ll dissolve. Application: Learn a new skill every season. Challenge your routines. Travel through books, ideas, and places. Comfort zones are graveyards. 18. Accept That Enigmatic People Are Both Loved and H@ted. Wisdom: Mystery invites curiosity and criticism. The price of distinction is isolation from mediocrity. Application: Don’t water yourself down for public comfort. Be kind, be wise, but never shrink to fit anyone’s fragile insecurities. Final Thought: A happy, smart, and wise life isn’t accidental — it’s intentional. It’s built through daily choices, disciplined thoughts, guarded emotions, and bold actions. The one who masters himself controls his world.

A MILLIONAIRESS HIRED A YOUNG MAN TO TEND HER GARDEN, BUT SHE NEVER IMAGINED WHO HE TRULY WAS Autumn winds carried fallen leaves across the pathways, swirling them into playful patterns. Victoria stood near the window, gazing thoughtfully at her neglected garden. Over the years, it had become an unruly maze of tangled shrubs and towering grass—somewhere between a forgotten woodland and an abandoned lot. “We really need to do something,” she murmured, speaking more to herself than anyone else. She powered up her laptop and opened her inbox. A message from Elena Sergeyevna—a former acquaintance from the business world—caught her eye. Elena spoke glowingly of a young gardener: “Kirill is a true expert. In just a few months, he completely revived my garden, returning it to its former splendor.” Victoria considered it. The estate had been hers for three years, ever since she resolved to start fresh. Yet the garden remained a project she continued to postpone. Her thoughts drifted toward an old photo frame still resting on the shelf. The image showed her and Alexey—young, joyful, newly back from their honeymoon. She hesitated, then flipped the frame facedown. “No more dwelling on the past,” she told herself firmly. Fifteen years had passed since Alexey vanished—without explanation, without a trace. Victoria still recalled every detail of that morning. He had risen early, as usual, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait for dinner.” Those were the last words he ever spoke to her. He never returned. She had been desperate at first, frantically calling friends and acquaintances, yet no one had any answers. It was as if Alexey had disappeared into thin air—no clues, no sign of where he had gone. At times, it felt like he had never truly existed at all. Later, a lawyer delivered divorce papers. Alexey hadn’t even met her in person. It took Victoria years to realize how little she had actually known about him. He had entered her life suddenly, won her heart with charm, and showered her with affection. But whenever conversation turned to his past, he skillfully evaded the topic with lighthearted jokes. She, blinded by love, had missed all the warning signs. A phone call interrupted her thoughts. It was Elena Sergeyevna, checking in about the gardener. “Yes, have him come tomorrow at ten,” Victoria replied after a brief pause. The next morning, she waited in her home office. At precisely ten o’clock, the doorbell rang. A young man stood at the entrance—tall, well-built, with a confident stance and an observant gaze. “Hello, I’m Kirill. Elena Sergeyevna mentioned you were looking for a gardener?” he said with a polite nod. Victoria led him through the grounds, detailing the work that needed to be done. Kirill moved with deliberate precision, carefully surveying each corner, making notes in a small notebook, and asking thoughtful, technical questions. “There’s a lot to tackle, but nothing too difficult. In two or three months, we can get everything into pristine condition,” he concluded after their walk. His certainty was reassuring, and Victoria felt confident in her choice. They settled on the arrangements, and Kirill began work the following morning. From her office window, she often found herself watching him. There was something captivating about the way he worked—every motion deliberate, without waste or urgency. It was as if he had an innate connection to nature, understanding exactly how to nurture it. Gradually, the garden started to regain its former charm. The tangled weeds disappeared, paths took shape, and unruly hedges gave way to well-tended flowerbeds. Kirill worked tirelessly from dawn until dusk, pausing only briefly for lunch. Over time, Victoria grew accustomed to his constant presence. They occasionally chatted—discussing plants, the weather, literature. Kirill wasn’t just skilled; he had a natural gift for conversation. Still, something about him sparked a quiet unease in Victoria… ⬇️

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