How the Poor Homeless Girl He Picked Up from the Street Restored Peace to His Family Episode 2: “The Secret Daniel Was Hiding” Amanda had never known peace like this. It had been three weeks since Daniel rescued her. Every morning, she woke up to sunlight pouring through clean windows, the smell of breakfast floating from the kitchen, and the sound of birds—not screams. But peace, she soon learned, didn’t mean perfect. Daniel’s home was big, beautiful, and calm on the outside. But something about it felt... heavy. There were rooms no one entered. People in the house spoke in hushed voices when Daniel wasn’t around. And every night, he disappeared into the study and stayed there for hours, alone. Amanda didn’t ask questions—not yet. She was just grateful. One rainy afternoon, Amanda stood by the window, watching raindrops race each other down the glass. She was lost in thought when Daniel’s younger sister, Mira, walked in. “You really changed things here,” Mira said softly. Amanda turned. “Me? How?” Mira smiled sadly. “Before you came, Daniel barely spoke. After our parents died in that accident, he shut everyone out. Especially Desmond. The two of them blamed each other for everything.” Amanda lowered her eyes. “I didn’t do anything special.” “You reminded him what it means to care again,” Mira said. “But...” she paused. “There’s something you don’t know.” Amanda’s chest tightened. “What is it?” Mira hesitated. Then whispered, “Daniel used to be engaged.” Amanda blinked. “Used to?” “She left him. Right before the accident. She said he changed. That he was hiding something.” Mira looked at Amanda carefully. “Be careful. I love my brother, but there’s a side of him he never talks about.” That night, Amanda couldn’t sleep. Her mind replayed Mira’s words over and over. Daniel had been nothing but kind, but now she noticed things she hadn’t before—the way he flinched at certain sounds, the way he locked his study, the nightmares that made him shout in his sleep. One evening, Amanda passed by the study and saw the door slightly open. Inside, Daniel sat with a photo in his hand, his back to the door. She almost walked away—but then she heard him whisper a name. “Sarah... I’m sorry.” Amanda froze. She stepped back quietly, her heart racing. That night, she barely slept. The next morning, she found Daniel in the garden, alone. “Can I ask you something?” she said gently. He looked at her. “Of course.” “Who’s Sarah?” Silence. The birds seemed to stop singing. Daniel looked away. “She was the woman I was going to marry.” Amanda nodded slowly. “What happened?” He sighed. “I... I wasn’t the man she thought I was. After our parents died, I made choices. Cold ones. I got involved in things... to protect this house, this family. But it cost me her.” Amanda stepped closer. “And now?” He looked at her. “Now I’m trying to fix everything. Starting with you.” She felt her chest tighten again—but not from fear. From something else. Something deeper. Amanda didn’t know where this journey was leading. But one thing was clear—Daniel had saved her. And maybe now... it was her turn to save him.

On my twenty-ninth birthday, I prayed to God about my relationship. I told Him the next man I meet should be my last stop because I wasn’t growing any younger. I was ready to settle down and wanted to date a man He Himself had chosen for me. At that time, Josh was around, pestering me with a relationship proposal, so I mentioned his name in my prayer and asked God to reveal to me if indeed Josh was the one. After that prayer, I must admit, I didn’t do anything else but went ahead to accept Josh’s proposal because he had been pursuing me for over a month. Before accepting his proposal, I told him what I needed in love and what I hoped to get in the near future. I even told him the reason why I was accepting his proposal was that he looked like a serious guy who was ready to settle down. I asked him, “Or am I wrong?” He nodded his head and smiled before saying, “You can’t be wrong. What’s a relationship if it’s not about settling down?” I saw some red flags, but I ignored them. To me, the love was new, so I was giving it some time to see if things would change. Anytime he was coming to visit, he would call and ask what I had cooked before he would come. He would come empty-handed, eat, sleep, and leave. If he didn’t like what I cooked, he would ask me, “Can’t you prepare banku and okro for me? I’ve been yearning for that all week.” I would prepare it, he would come and eat without giving me anything. He wouldn’t even come with a small gift in hand and say, “Oh babe, I got this on the way for you.” I love to receive gifts. Even when I had to visit him, he asked me to bring stuff to cook for him. One day, he put his phone on charge and entered the toilet. His phone’s screen was already on before he put it on charge, so I quickly picked it up before the screen went off. I checked his messages. I didn’t even bother about his chats with other women. I went straight to the chat between him and his friend Kaylu. Kaylu said, “Charley, Alberta has been calling me oo. She says you’ve been avoiding her. What’s happening?” Josh responded, “Oh, don’t mind that girl. She loves marriage too much. Every small conversation, this girl will talk about marriage. Is she the only woman in this world without a husband?” They had dated for over four years, according to what Kaylu said, and “after four years, what do you expect a woman to talk about?” Kaylu asked. Josh responded, “Then she should go and find another man because I’m not ready.” I was like, “Oh, is that so?” I put the phone down quietly and went to the kitchen. When he came out of the toilet, he asked for his food. I told him I mistakenly put sugar in the okro instead of salt, so the stew had gone bad. He laughed at me. He said, “Oh, so we can’t eat it at all?” I answered, “If you try it, you’ll shit for a whole month.” I saw him off, and that very day, I texted him that I couldn’t continue anymore. He was like, “Oh, but how? What did I do? I thought everything was fine?” I answered, “It was fine until I realised it wasn’t fine. It’s not your fault but mine.” He said, “If you need space, I can give you that, but we don’t have to break up because of an unknown issue.” I didn’t want to argue about what I saw in his message. Plus, anything he was going to say would amount to nothing, so why bother? When I agreed I needed the space, the next thing he said was, “But it doesn’t mean I can’t come home and eat if I miss your meals, right?” The answer that came to my head wasn’t pretty, so I hushed it and instead told him he couldn’t call me while he was giving me space. That’s how we ended. No drama. No back-and-forth argument. Go your way; let me go mine.

My girlfriend Olivia chased me out of her house after I told her that I will go ahead and marry Amaka the girl my mom betrothed me to. I could see the anger on her face. I knew that I disappointed her. The 20million I sent to her which she returned back was nothing compared to the love I have for her. According to what my mother told me. Amaka's father has already given me time to marry his daughter or else all the assets I had will be seized. If I didn't marry his daughter, I will end up losing all I have. He gave me the position of an assistant manager to prove to me he can make me the owner only if I married his daughter. The whole situation was complicated. I went back home that day, sitting on my sofa. I told my mom that I would go ahead with the wedding. My mother was happy when I told her. "So Amaka has to move in to your room". My mother said to me. I nodded to yes. Amaka oya go and pack your bags from the guest room and move into your husband's room. My mother said to Amaka. I watched as Amaka packed her bags to my room. Just then I received a call from my best friend Jide. "Howfa bro, how did the conversation with Olivia go"? Jide asked me over the phone. "I have decided to marry her". I said to Jide. Now you are talking, you are a man. Jide said to me praising me. I decided to marry Amaka. I said to him. Amaka? Jide asked me to be sure he heard what I said right. Yeah. Bro, that's the best decision now. I said to Jide. After my conversation with Jide, I finally went in to have a shower. I saw Amaka sleeping peacefully on my bed. After having my shower, I came to the bed and laid down. I started remembering all the good times I had with Olivia. How I promised her that I was going to marry her no matter what happened. All the time we spent together. That night all my thought was about Olivia. Amaka woke up in the middle of the night and saw my head up. Baby ain't you sleeping? Amaka asked me trying to be romantic. I will sleep later. I said to Amaka. I can't sleep if you won't sleep. Amaka said to me trying to be babyish. Come on just sleep. I said. After much persuasion from her I decided to sleep. The following morning immediately I woke up preparing to dress to work. My mother came into my room. "Amaka's father would like to see you this evening". My mother said to me. Okay. I replied my mother. Immediately I finished having my bath, Amaka already arranged some clothes that I will be wearing to work. I went to work that day, again I didn't concentrate much at work, I kept on thinking if I made the right decision in choosing to marry Amaka. I mean I'm talking about my future here. The manager of the company made matters worst. Maybe he is angry that I'm his assistant manager, rumor has it in the company that he wants his girlfriend to take that position. Since I was promoted as the assistant manager he has been looking for every slightest opportunity to query me. Ayochidi your incompetence in this company is becoming out of hand, sometimes I wonder what the MD saw in you to make you my assistant manager. I promise you when I finally get promoted as the MD, You will be the first on my list to be fired. The manager yelled at me after I showed him the work he asked me to help him do, which he was supposed to do by himself. Get out of my sight. The Manager said to me. I quietly left his office. At the end of the day. I went home and prepared to join my wife to be to go see her father. When I got home Amaka was already getting ready. I went to the shower to take my bath. Immediately I was done, I dressed in my native wear and off we drove to go see my father in-law and my mother in-law. When I got to Amaka's parent house they already prepared to receive me. In-law you are already here? Make yourself at home. Amaka's father said to me. So I'm sure your mother must have told you everything. Amaka's father said to me. Yes sir. I replied. Good; Good, have you officially proposed to my daughter yet? He asked me. No sir. I replied. No problem. We Will have to plan a proposal party. A big one. Amaka's father said to me. Okay sir. I replied. Then he handed me something in an envelope. What's this sir? I asked Amaka's father. "That's an agreement document in marrying my daughter". Amaka's father said. What? I asked. Just go through it, before signing it. He said. Just then Amaka's mother called someone. "Olivia get me the red wine on the bar". Amaka's mother called out. And immediately my girlfriend Olivia came to our table with a red wine. What was Olivia doing here? I said to myself in shock immediately I saw her. Amaka just let out an evil smile immediately she saw the shock on my face. To Be Continued. Title: Promise 6

A lawyer sold his well to a teacher. Two days later, the lawyer came to the teacher and said, "Sir, I sold you the well, but it's not with the water inside! If you want to use the water, you will have to pay extra." The teacher smiled and replied, "Yes, I was about to come to you. I was going to say that you should take your water from my well, or else you will have to start paying rent from tomorrow." Hearing this, the lawyer got nervous and said, "Oh, I was just joking!" The teacher laughed and said, "This is how people like you become lawyers after studying with us." Salute to teachers! Please like and comment 🙏🙏

They laughed when she was forced to marry the village madman _ but what he did after the wedding shocked everyone. Episode 1 Emily was called into the center of the village by her stepmother, Margaret, who stood with arms crossed and eyes blazing. The entire village gathered, eager for gossip. Margaret’s voice cut through the air like a blade, announcing that Emily would marry Jacob—the madman who lived near the woods. Shock rippled through the crowd, followed by gasps and stifled laughter. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as tears welled up in her eyes. She had always hoped for a quiet, respectful life—not this public humiliation. She looked over at Jacob, who was being led out like livestock. He walked slowly, not making eye contact, his clothes ragged and hair unkempt. His face, though tired, showed no madness—just quiet pain. The villagers laughed louder as Emily crumbled under the weight of shame. No one knew the truth about Jacob, not even Emily herself. As she stood there, helpless and humiliated, her life changed forever in that moment—and so did his. The wedding was rushed, almost like a joke. Villagers dressed in their finest came not to celebrate, but to witness the mockery unfold. Women wore bold prints and headscarves, whispering to one another and pointing. The ceremony was held under the old mango tree, the same place where countless happy unions had taken place. But this time, it was different. Emily stood stiffly beside Jacob, her hands trembling as she held her wilted bouquet. The priest hesitated before beginning, as even he felt the discomfort in the air. Note - this story belongs to jennylight,any page aside from hers stole it. Jacob didn’t say a word during the entire ceremony. He simply looked at the ground, never once meeting Emily’s eyes. When the priest asked if he accepted her as his wife, he gave a slow nod. No smile. No joy. Just a nod. Emily could feel the eyes of the villagers boring into her skin. Her stepmother smirked, proud of what she had orchestrated. The priest declared them husband and wife, and instead of cheers, laughter echoed through the village square. Emily felt like a lamb led to slaughter, her dignity stripped, her heart hollow. After the ceremony, there was no celebration—just silence. Emily and Jacob walked down the dusty path toward his tiny hut at the edge of the village. She had never been so humiliated. Her veil fluttered in the breeze, catching on low branches as curious children followed them at a distance, giggling and whispering. Emily’s heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. She didn’t know what kind of man Jacob truly was—only what the village claimed. The madman. The one who talked to himself. The one who lived alone. Jacob’s home was barely more than a shack—wooden walls, a leaking roof, and a single bench inside. When they arrived, he stepped aside and let her walk in first. No words. Just a nod. Emily stepped into the small space and looked around. It was tidy, strangely enough. There were books stacked in a corner, a small blanket folded neatly on a mat, and a worn drawing pinned to the wall. It was a sketch of the village—but beautifully detailed. Her eyes lingered on it, and for a moment, she felt something shift. Maybe there was more to him than they told her. But fear still clung tightly to her chest. That night, Emily lay stiffly on one side of the hut, facing the wall. Jacob remained on the other, barely making a sound. The silence was louder than the laughter they had left behind. The wind rustled through the holes in the roof, and a faint drip echoed from a leaky spot near the corner. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind spun with shame, confusion, and fear. Yet, not once did he approach her. No threats. No crazed behavior. Just the occasional cough and the creak of his weight shifting on the mat. In the morning, she found a steaming cup of boiled herbs and a plate of roasted yam waiting for her on the bench. Jacob wasn’t in the hut. She blinked in confusion. He had gone to the stream, and when he returned, he placed a bundle of firewood beside the door without a word. Emily watched him from inside, her curiosity growing. Was this the madman the village spoke of? He hadn’t spoken to her, but his quiet actions spoke volumes. For the first time, she realized the village might have been wrong—or at least, they didn’t know the full story. Jennylight For full story kindly click 👉 https://youtu.be/OdGf95ntiXk?si=fEcleCZBdZSVKGbc

“CAN TWO PEOPLE BE IN LOVE AND STILL BE INCOMPATIBLE?” Two people can be madly in love, light up when they see each other, finish each other's sentences, can't seem to stay away from one another, and yet behind the smiles and chemistry, there's tension. Arguments that don’t get resolved. Deep needs that remain unmet, and over time, love alone doesn’t seem to be enough to hold them together. This is because love is a feeling. It’s powerful, emotional, and sometimes irrational. It's what draws you in, makes your heart race, and convinces you this is the one. But compatibility? That’s the everyday stuff. It’s how well your values, life goals, communication styles, beliefs, and habits align. It’s what determines whether two people can actually do life together peacefully and productively. You can love someone deeply and still struggle to communicate effectively with them. You can feel butterflies and still clash when it comes to handling money, raising kids, spirituality, or dealing with conflict. Here are Signs of Incompatibility Despite Love You love spending time together but argue about everything that matters. Your goals and life visions are constantly pulling you in opposite directions. You feel unheard, unseen, or unvalued despite the affection. You're always trying to “fix” or “change” each other instead of accepting one another. It’s painful. Because it creates a confusing emotional space—“If we love each other this much, shouldn’t it be enough?” But relationships aren't just about feelings; they’re about functioning well together over time. Many people stay in unhealthy or chaotic relationships simply because they are in love. But love alone won’t resolve deep incompatibilities. It won’t change someone’s core values or lifestyle choices. This is because love isn't always enough to build a stable, and fulfilling relationship. So, understanding this truth helps you to make wiser decisions—whether it’s walking away or choosing to work intentionally on your differences. Because in the end, the goal isn’t just to fall in love—it’s to stay in love, grow together, and enjoy peace while doing life side by side.

"YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A WIFE, NOT A GUEST!" MY HUSBAND SH0UTED WHEN I REFUSED TO COOK FOR HIS FAMILY “And my opinion doesn’t matter to anyone?” Natasha said, placing the dustpan back on the shelf as she turned to her husband. There was pain in her voice. “I’m a person too, Lucifer. I’m tired.” “You must remember you’re a wife, not a guest!” Lucifer barked, his face reddening with anger. “You have responsibilities to the family!” Natasha tapped her fingers on the countertop, watching as the kettle began to bubble, filling the kitchen with steam. The Sunday morning air was unusually quiet, as though the world had decided to grant her a brief reprieve. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gently illuminating every corner, every speck of dust. For a moment, she simply stood there, soaking in the rare stillness. Five years ago, when Lucifer and Natasha had moved into the apartment, its walls were bare, the décor minimal. Now, every corner radiated warmth and comfort. She remembered the time spent choosing the perfect wallpaper for the living room, the endless debates with Lucifer over the color of the curtains, and the joy she felt when she finally found the ideal sofa. “Good morning,” Lucifer greeted sleepily as he shuffled into the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?” “Omelet with mushrooms and tomatoes,” Natasha said with a smile, pulling ingredients from the fridge. “And some fresh coffee.” Lucifer approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “You really are the mistress of the house, aren’t you?” he remarked in a tone that immediately put Natasha on guard. Something about his voice hinted at an ulterior motive. “What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes. “Nothing in particular,” Lucifer replied, looking away. “It’s just that my mother and Katherine plan to drop by. Just for lunch.” Natasha exhaled sharply. “Just for a little while” in Lucifer’s family often stretched into long hours. She clenched her fists, fighting to keep her frustration from showing. “What time will they arrive?” she asked, her voice already laced with tension. “Around one or two,” Lucifer said, pausing before adding, “and… Katherine will bring the kids.” Natasha silently counted to ten. Katherine’s six-year-old twins were more than mischievous—they were miniature hurricanes. After their visits, the apartment always resembled the aftermath of a war zone. “Fine,” Natasha said, grabbing a frying pan and turning on the stove. “I suppose I’ll have to dash to the store—there’s not enough food.” “Honey, you know how much my mother loves your dishes,” Lucifer said, trying to pull her into an embrace. But Natasha sidestepped, pretending not to notice. Victoria Demson, Lucifer’s mother, never missed an opportunity to critique Natasha’s cooking. Sometimes the soup was too salty, sometimes the meat undercooked, and sometimes the salad was labeled too bland. By two o’clock, the apartment sparkled with cleanliness. In the oven, a casserole of potatoes and meat roasted, filling the air with its mouthwatering aroma. In the fridge sat the cake that Victoria adored, waiting to be served. The doorbell rang at precisely 14:15. Natasha adjusted her apron and went to answer. “Niku-sha!” Victoria Demson burst into the hallway like a whirlwind, her coat trailing behind her. “How are you, dear?” Katherine followed closely, her twins charging into the living room without removing their shoes. “Kids, shoes!” Natasha called out sharply. “Oh, let them be,” Victoria interjected, waving her hand dismissively. “You know how hard it is for them to sit still.” Natasha pressed her lips together, watching dirty footprints streak across her light carpet. Every time, she wondered why no one taught them to remove their shoes, but she kept her thoughts to herself. No one listened anyway. “What’s for lunch?” Katherine asked, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, casserole? Mom, remember the one I made last week with mushrooms? It was a masterpiece!” “Of course I do, sweetheart,” Victoria said with a smile, settling at the table. “Niku-sha, you could learn a thing or two from Katherine. She has such a talent for cooking.” Natasha stayed silent, methodically arranging the c:u:tlery. From the living room, a cra$h echoed—something had fallen to the floor. “Lucifer, can you see what your nephews have done?” Natasha said calmly. “Oh, come on,” Lucifer replied dismissively, not even looking up. “Let them play—they’re just kids.” “Exactly!” Victoria chimed in. “Niku-sha, you’re so proper. Everything has to be perfect with you.” “I just like order,” Natasha replied softly. “There should be life in a home!” Victoria declared loudly. “You’re always fussing over cleanliness, Niku-sha. Imagine if you had kids—you’d be chasing them with a rag all day!” Natasha felt her cheeks b:u:rn. The topic of children was a raw one—after two failed pregnancies, doctors had advised her to wait before trying again. She sw@ll0wed the words b:u:rning on her t0ngue and stayed silent. Lunch unfolded in the same ve!n. Victoria offered unsolicited advice, Katherine boasted about her culinary skills, and the twins left a trail of cha0s throughout the apartment. Lucifer sat back, seemingly enjoying the lively atmosphere, oblivious to the growing tension in Natasha. “You know, Niku-sha,” Victoria said, finishing her second slice of cake, “Katherine and I were thinking—maybe we should gather at your place every Sunday? Your kitchen is so spacious, and you cook… well, with soul.” SEE THE CONTINUATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW! ⬇️⬇️

Dear whoever is reading this I hope you have a reason to smile.

Be with someone that makes you ridiculously happy. Someone who LOVABLEQUOTE.COM makes you laugh and smile. Often and a lot

You're funny and sweet. You make me laugh. You make me smile. You make me happy. LOVABLEQUOTE.COM And that's why I love you.

Having caught her husband with a young beauty, the wife didn’t start a brawl; instead, five days later she presented him with an unexpected surprise. Marina could never have imagined that she would find herself in such a situation. “Beluga” – the restaurant where Viktor once proposed to her three decades ago – had now become the venue for his secret rendezvous. She stood by the panoramic window, watching as her husband tenderly intertwined his fingers with a young blonde barely twenty-five years old. “You are special,” the words reached Marina, and the once familiar voice suddenly seemed alien. The girl smiled playfully, revealing flawless teeth and charming dimples. Her well-groomed fingers with perfect manicure caressed Viktor’s wrist tenderly. “What about the wife?” squeaked the brunette, puffing out her lips. “Marina?” Viktor waved his hand nonchalantly. “She’s busy with flowers and TV series. You know, at our age…” he trailed off, laden with meaning. Marina was overwhelmed by a feeling of suffocation, and her hands betrayed her with trembling. Thirty years of life together, three grown-up children, countless evenings shared – all of it was nullified by one dismissive gesture. Her first impulse was to burst in, create a scandal, and pour wine on the couple. But something restrained her – perhaps years of cultivated composure or natural reason. Upon returning home, Marina mechanically brewed tea and sank into her favorite armchair. Her gaze fell upon a folder of documents in the cabinet – papers she had signed at her husband’s request over the past five years. “Darling, it’s just a formality,” his words echoed in her mind. “It’s necessary for tax optimization.” Now, as she reviewed the documents with trembling hands, she began to realize the true state of affairs. The house, the country residence, three car dealerships, a chain of restaurants – everything officially belonged to her. Fearing inspections, Viktor had been gradually transferring assets to his wife, believing her to be loyal and spineless. Marina smiled bitterly. How wrong he was. Over the years of their marriage, she had not only learned to cultivate orchids and bake cakes – she had been carefully monitoring the development of the family business, even though she had remained in the background. By midnight, her tears had dried up. In place of despair came cold determination. Marina took out her diary and began to plan. Five days – that was all that was needed. Day One: The day began with an early call to a lawyer. Elena Sergeyevna, an authoritative family law specialist, carefully examined the documents as Marina nervously tapped her fingers. “Congratulations,” the lawyer pronounced while adjusting her glasses. “Legally, you are the sole owner of the entire business.” “What about the power of attorney I gave him?” “It can be annulled immediately.” Marina looked at the swirling autumn leaves outside the office window. For thirty years, she had been an exemplary wife – supportive, inspiring, forgiving. Now it was time to think about herself. “Let’s start acting,” she declared firmly. Day One Continued: That same evening, Viktor returned late, exuding the scent of expensive perfume. Marina, as usual, served dinner. “Today you seem different,” noted her husband, dabbing his lips with a napkin. “Just tired,” she smiled. “By the way, don’t cook dinner tomorrow. I have a meeting with friends.” Viktor nodded absentmindedly, absorbed in his phone. Marina saw him hide a smile as he read messages. Day Two: The next day, she visited all the banks with their joint accounts. The process took several hours – Viktor was busy shifting their finances across various institutions. By the evening, a significant portion of the funds had been transferred to new accounts opened exclusively in her name. “Ms. Sokolova, maybe leave a small reserve?” cautiously suggested the manager of the last bank. “No,” Marina shook her head. “Transfer everything.” At home, she found a bouquet of roses – Viktor sometimes gave them, especially when he felt guilty. In the past, they would have moved her, but now the flowers elicited only a bitter smile. Day Three: A meeting took place with Mikhail Petrovich, a long-time partner in their family business. “To part with the car dealerships?” Mikhail Petrovich exclaimed in astonishment. “But they consistently generate income!” “That’s precisely why now is the perfect time,” Marina replied calmly. “The market is on the rise.” By the evening, preliminary agreements had been sealed with signatures. Now she had reliable financial protection. Day Four: The fourth day was the most emotionally intense. Her hand trembled betraying her as she signed documents. “Are you sure about your decision?” inquired the notary sympathetically, a woman around her age. “Absolutely,” Marina replied, straightening her shoulders. Next, she met with a real estate agency. The family mansion, built fifteen years ago, was now entirely in her possession. “I want to prepare the eviction documents,” she declared, looking straight into the eyes of the young lawyer. “But that’s your husband…” the lawyer began uncertainly. “Ex-husband,” corrected Marina. “And he has exactly seven days to vacate the house.” Day Five: The fifth day began with a visit... 📖 Read the continuation in the comments ⬇️

I don’t receive calls while driving but this person kept calling and calling until I decided to stop by the roadside and answer the call. It was an old friend who had come to town and wanted to see me. As I sat parked, engrossed in the conversation, a soft tap on my window startled me. A woman stood outside, her face shadowed in the dim streetlight. I rolled down the window just enough to hear her. "Are you looking for someone?" I held up a finger, signaling I was on a call. She nodded and walked away. Before I could resume my conversation, another knock. A different woman this time, her tone polite but insistent. "Do you need something? Maybe I can help?" Confusion flickered. Was I parked illegally? "No, I’m just on a call," I explained. She gave a knowing smile and retreated. That’s when I noticed them—a small group of women lingering nearby, their postures relaxed but alert. Another car pulled up ahead. One of them approached, exchanged a few words, then climbed in. The car drove off. Oh. I wasn’t just parked on the side of the road. I was in their territory. A third woman approached before I could process it fully. This time, I shook my head before she even spoke. She smirked and walked away. I should have left. But curiosity pinned me there. Cars came and went. The women worked like clockwork—a brief exchange, a nod, then one would disappear into a vehicle. One of them stood out. Tall, fair-skinned, wrapped in a short skirt and a white crop top that hugged her curves. Even in the dim light, her confidence was magnetic. Why is someone like her doing this? The thought lingered until she sauntered toward my car. I don’t know why I did it—maybe impulse, maybe something darker—but before she reached me, I slipped off my wedding ring and tucked it into my pocket. She leaned in, elbows resting on the window frame, lips curved in a slow, knowing smile. "You’ve been here a while. Not sure who to pick?" Her voice was smooth, teasing. "Well, here I am. Tell me something." Up close, she was stunning—sharp cheekbones, full lips, eyes that held a challenge. My pulse kicked up. "I just pulled over to take a call," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. She laughed, low and throaty. "It’s a beautiful night. I can make it better." "How?" "Take me somewhere private. You’ll see." My mind raced. My body betrayed me. "How much?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. She quoted prices—short time, all night. I chose the former. The hotel was her pick. The moment the door closed, she shed her clothes without ceremony, lying back on the bed like a transaction waiting to be completed. I hesitated. "No foreplay?" She arched a brow. "You want foreplay from an ashawo? Touch yourself. I’m here for one thing." Reality crashed in. This wasn’t seduction. It was a business deal—cold, mechanical. I tried. I wanted to want it. But my thing refused to rise to the occasion. She grew impatient. "You’re wasting my time." "It’s my first time doing this," I admitted. She scoffed. "Then you should’ve paid for premium service." When I was still struggling to get it to rise to the occasion, she got up and started dressing. She said, "You’re impotent. Or stupid. Either way, pay me." "For what? We didn’t do anything." Her eyes hardened. She pulled out her phone. "I’m calling my guys. You’ll pay before they get here." Fear coiled in my gut. I handed over double what we’d agreed. She snatched the money, smirked, and left without looking back. I sat in my car, hands shaking, guilt and relief warring inside me. Then I remembered the ring in my pocket. Had I taken it off to hide my marriage? Or because some part of me knew I shouldn’t be here at all? Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the shame was the point. I started the engine and drove home—slowly, carefully, like a man who’d just dodged a bullet.