“Let her go.” Tyler stood at the porch, his eyes locked on the man hurting his mother. His voice was quiet—but it carried weight. “Touch her again and you won’t walk away.” The thug turned, sizing him up. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?” Ruth’s face drained of color. “Tyler, no! Run! They're gangsters!” The leader sneered. “So you’re Tyler Grant? Good timing. The Coopers say you still owe them one and a half million.” Tyler’s expression didn’t change. His voice turned to steel. “You’re not getting a cent. And you’re not laying another finger on my family.” Laughter erupted among the gang. “Boy, I’m Huxley. The Hux gang runs this block. You think some tough talk scares me?” “I don’t care who you are,” Tyler replied coldly. “You’re a thg picking on a crippled woman. And that ends today.” Huxley’s smirk twitched. He dropped Ruth to the ground and stepped back. Beating a helpless woman might have been fun, but humiliating her son would be even better. Tyler helped Ruth back into her wheelchair. “Go inside, Mom. I’ve got this.” She hesitated. “Tyler, don’t fight. Please. You already have a record. If something happens…” “I’m not going to prison,” he said softly. “And you’re not living in fear anymore.” Ruth stared at him, then nodded and wheeled herself inside. Outside, Huxley spat. “That’s enough drama. Time to break you like we broke your mom.” He sent one of his men charging at Tyler. Tyler moved like lightning. One sidestep. One strike. The thug hit the ground, out cold. The others hesitated—but only for a moment. “Get him!” Huxley roared. Five more came at once, fists and feet flying. But Tyler had trained in hell. He weaved between their attacks like water, each movement precise, each counter a thunderclap. Bam! Thud! Pom! Within seconds, all five were writhing on the ground. Huxley stared, stunned. This wasn’t some lucky fluke. Tyler could fight. In fear and anger, Huxley shouted to Tyler. "It seems you learned a few tricks. Good for you.” “But you're still a pathetic sht. Your girlfriend is marrying to the Cooper. Loser!"

I'M A SALON OWNER AND I'VE SLPT WITH ALL MY MALE CLIENTS BECAUSE OF A MONEY RITUAL. Money rituals are very dangerous and desperation has turned me into something I am not. I have always been very passionate about doing people's hair and nails from a very young age and I knew that one day I would own a salon. I learned how to do easy hairstyles while I was still in high school and as soon as I became perfect I started charging them. I would do people's hair from home and make a little extra pocket money. That is when I realised that there is money in doing people's hair and I made up my mind that after matric i would go learn professionaly and make it my career. Indeed after passing matric that's exactly what I did. I went to school to learn more skills. I got my certificate and opened my own salon. I rented a salon in town and hired two more people to work with. Everything was well until a few years later when a foreign national opened a salon right next to mine. I lost a lot of client's soon after that. It was so weird because we had the same pricing yet people preferred her salon over mine. Business became extremely slow so much that I had to let go of one of my employees because I just couldn't afford them. I was slowly following into repressio and regretted my decision of a career path because how do I compete with a foreign national? Her salon was always very packed while I'd get one or two clients a day. One day I didn't even have money to travel back home and I decided I would just lock up and sleep in my salon. In the middle of the night I had a horrible sleep paralysis. I dreamed of my salon burning and I was inside it. In the dream there was Smoke everywhere and it was suffocating me and I couldn't move nor breath. I managed to get out of the dream and I peeked outside the window and I saw the lady who owned the salon opposite mine pouring Muti on my front door. Worst of all she was half nakd. She was holding a bucket and a hand broom,she dipped into the bucket with the broom and started sprinkling water around my salon. I froze and became very scared instantly and decided to hide and not say a word..next coming up To be continued

"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! ⬇️⬇️

TRENDING NOW 🌎 “Burkina Faso marks five months of unintérrupted electricity supply. The country has not experienced any power outages for five consecutive months, ensuring a continuous supply of electricity.” “This achievement has paved the way for a seamless transition to electric vehicles, providing users with the assurance of charging their cars at any time.” #B1republic

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Breaking news Burkina Faso 🇧🇫 has launched its first 100% electric car. Built by Itaou, a Burkinabe car company, the car can travel 330 km on a full charge and takes only 30 minutes to recharge. It was designed and created by Burkinabe engineers. While the Electric Vehicle (EV) market in Africa is currently dominated by South Africa, Morocco, and Kenya -- Burkina Faso has just rolled out its first electric vehicle brand, ITAOUA, adding a new player to the continent's growing EV market. The ITAOUA car is fully electric, uses solar power, and is environmentally friendly. It can travel 330 kilometers after just 30 minutes of charging, making it a standout choice for eco-conscious drivers. This development is significant because it demonstrates how Burkina Faso is joining the race toward cleaner, more sustainable transportation options across the continent.This year Burkina Faso 🇧🇫 unveiled its first locally assembled electric car brand, ITAOUA. It is 100% electric, solar-powered, and can go 330 kilometers after only 30 minutes of charging. The production plant is located in Ouaga 2000, a district in Burkina Faso. The launch of ITAOUA’s electric car is expected to impact Burkina Faso’s economy profoundly and generate thousands of jobs.

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