Wura stared at her reflection in the mirror before her, analyzing her look before she stepped out for her date.

She adjusted the strap of her sleeveless white camisole and sighed. It was just a movie hangout with Nonso so why was feeling anxious?

Wura wanted to look good, she wanted to feel good too. She wanted to impress him, but didn’t want to over dress for the occasion.

Nonso had been persistent in asking her to hangout which she had no choice but to accept. She was a boring person, so probably after that, he would leave her be. She also didn’t want to admit her anticipation towards seeing him, but she had to remain focused and now was the worst time to become distracted.

Wura had no idea when she smiled.When was the last time someone made her feel this way? She had rudely shut out all her admirers and friends, drowning in her regret and revenge for Dahlia. Wura couldn’t remember the last time she lived, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt happy, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt anything.

She applied a coat of lip-gloss on her lips and patted her black straight wig which made her look so different from her usual afro look.

“So, Rhyme,” she started, when she sighted her cat had sauntered into her room, “I’m about to do something I’ve not done in a long time,” she sighed again as she took out her strawberry shine body spray, “I hope this goes well.” She sprayed it over her and bottled it.

Wura squatted before her cat and ruffled her white fur, earning a satisfied purr from her, “take care of yourself Rhyme,” she told the cat who was staring at her intently, “there’s food in the kitchen, water and what ever you may need, so take care of the house before i get back.” She placed a soft kiss on her head and rose.

She took out her electric taser, disguised as a lip stick from her drawer and kept it on her purse for protection. She had also slipped a pocket knife into one of her sneakers. Being a Spy meant being cautious and ready at all times.

As she waited for Nonso at her bus stop, she couldn’t stop thinking about the Dahlia scandal. Everyone was talking about it, especially social media platforms which had bashed, accused and ridiculed her.

The downfall of Dahlia was gradually becoming a reality and Wura was loving every second of it.

Her phone rang out, disrupting her thoughts. She hastily pulled it out of her purse, glanced at the called ID before accepting the call and placing it on her right ear.

“Hello Nonso.”

“Hey,” his voice made her stomach tingle in excitement, “so we’re almost approaching your bus stop, where are you?”

“Um, I’m beside the POS shop just at the bus stop and I’m putting on a jean on a jacket.”

“Okay, we’ve seen you.” With that, he hung up and a black camry car gradually approached her and parked.

Nonso came down from the back seat and she watched him, speechless, assessing his look from head to toe. A grey plain tee over black shorts paired with slides and colored socks. His look was a blend of boyish, unbothered and even cute.

“Are you checking me out?” He asked her with a smirk on his face.

“Checking you out ke?” Wura denied instantly, redirecting her gaze elsewhere, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Nonso chuckled, opening the door for her like a gentleman, “you may enter, mi lady.” He formed a British accent which made Wura roll her eyes as she entered the uber vehicle.

She found the uber driver staring at her through the mirror and she eyed him in response. He looked away.

The moment Nonso sat next to her, the scent of his cologne drifted into her nostrils, which she found attractive and sensual.

“You look beautiful.” Nonso’s told her, “and I like this hair. You resemble an art work, a masterpiece and I’m serious.”

For some reason, Wura found it difficult to say anything. She was blushing profusely, but she would rather die than Nonso to see that part of her.

“Thank you.” She said instead and turned to the window, focusing outside. She wondered how Astrid was doing at her family dinner. Deep down, she hoped it goes well, she prayed Astrid would get accepted by her father’s family.

“So, I was thinking we should see a horror movie.”

“Wait, what?” Wura turned to him in shook, “why?”

“So, wait,” Nonso smirked, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of horror movies.”

Wura pursed her lips together before replying, “I don’t enjoy it very much because its always the same cliché plot story-but I’m not scared of horror movies.” She told him.

“Are you sure?” Nonso’s stare seemed to be magnetizing her. She looked away.

“Yes.” She replied while looking elsewhere, “so when will your car be back from the mechanic?” she changed the topic.

“Soon.” He simply said, “our next date, let’s take your bike. You’ll drive anywhere you wish to and I will follow you.”

Wura raised her brows in question. “You would follow me, a stranger anywhere? What if I killed you?”

“I don’t think you’re capable of doing that.” Nonso replied, “and I don’t want us to be strangers to each other.” His stare was pulling her in as he continued, “I would see you every day if you give me the chance to.” It was the way he said those words that got to Wura, the emotion in them, the desire and willingness to.

Wura looked away once more, intimidated by his intense gaze and he chuckled at her reaction.

There was something about Nonso that fascinated her, something about him that was different.

The movie was good and Nonso made the ambiance of the place more fun and enjoyable. Even Wura who hardly smiled couldn’t count the number of times he made her giggle or laugh.

“You look more beautiful when you smile,” Nonso said to her. They were at an ice cream café, eating ice cream and chatting about everything.

Wura felt heat rise to her cheek as she looked up at him, “I don’t smile a lot.” She said truthfully.

“Why?” Nonso was intrigued, “your smile can cure cancer and light up even the darkest room.”

Wura dug her spoon into her ice cream and lifted it to her mouth. She swallowed before continuing speaking, “I’m antisocial and introverted.”

“I guess we have to change that,” Nonso said, “write out a list of places you wish to visit, in Nigeria and diaspora, we’ll work on it.”

Wura narrowed her eyes at him, wondering why he was interested in her. Leri was currently going through a heart break and honestly, she didn’t want to experience hers.

“We?” she repeated.

Nonso nodded. “Yes. We, as in us, plural, the two both of us.”

Wura chuckled once more as she stared at the man before her. If truth be told, he wasn’t her type of man. Nonso was the same height as her, and she preferred men who were at least a foot taller than her. He had a clean beardless face, and she was a fan of beards.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours? What are you thinking about?” Nonso’s question brought her back to the present.

“What’s your favorite color?” Wura asked instead.

Nonso was astonished. “White- and I already know that yours is black. You look like someone who don’t like to be noticed.”

Wura nodded. “Attention is a waste of time. Attention brings about perfection. Perfection leads to the constant need to please people, who keep a bird eye on you. like Dahlia for instance.”

“I feel bad for her, but I’m not surprised.” Nonso surprised her by saying which intrigued Wura the more.

“Why do you say so?” Wura had to ask.

“I knew Dahlia from university, she once dated one of my friends and she cheated on him. You know what they say that once a cheat, always a cheat.” Nonso explained, “right from university days, Dahlia had always been thirsty for fame, she had always craved attention, she was always never satisfied with whatever she had.”

Wura leaned into her chair and pondered over what Nonso just said. Could that mean Dahlia started her black market since university days? Was there more to unveil concerning Dahlia?

“Do you guys still talk?” Wura inquired.

“Oh no,” Nonso shook his head, “we lost contact for years now, but I do know some of my friends who keep in touch with her. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing actually,” she lied, “just curiosity I guess.” She shrugged.

“Don’t worry, Dahlia won’t steal me from you.” Nonso told her with a wink as he scooped ice cream in his mouth.

Wura’s heart skipped a beat and she wondered why.

She stared at him as he ate his ice cream, but was more concentrated on the few drops on the side of his lips that he clearly was unaware about.

Before Wura could stop herself, she leaned towards him, stretched out her hand and wiped it away slowly with her thumb.

She was about retreating, but Nonso held her palm, covering hers with his. She had always thought that her hands were huge for a lady, but seeing Nonso’s own completely over hers, she disbanded the thought immediately.

“Your hand is soft,” Nonso murmured, “and perfect.” His voice was low and rough.

“There was ice cream on your lips, I just –“ Wura attempted to explain herself.

“You smell so good too,” Nonso continued, “and I love your lips.” His eyes drifted to her lips, and the tension between them intensified, “but in as much as I want to kiss you right now, I feel we should take this slow, for both our sakes.” He let go of her wrist and every sexual tension evaporated.

Now that was definitely strange. Any normal guy would take advantage of the opportunity, but Nonso didn’t.

“Why?” Wura asked as she leaned into her seat, “that was an opportunity for you.”

Nonso sighed. “you’re not just a fling to me Wura and I would never take advantage of you or your emotions. I want you to be comfortable around me, I want you feel at home around me.”

Wura definitely wasn’t expecting that. Nonso kept on revealing more surprises to her which intensified her growing attraction for him. But, she had this seed of fear in her, the fear of the unknown, the fear of choping relationship breakfast, properly known as hearbreak.

Later that night, Wura lay on her bed with a grin on her face as she relieved the memory of that night. She slept with joy in her heart, happy that something was going on right in her life.

All was definitely not going well in her life.

Wura drove in desperation and determination, above her usual bike speed limit. She tightened her wrists against the handles of her bike, overtaking vehicles with ease on the expressway.

Her lower lips shook in dread as the voice of the TV presenter replayed in her head.

‘A female body was found this morning by the roadside at ilana bus stop. The body has been identified as Peace Eze, a twenty- year-old undergraduate of Lagos state university. It appears she was stabbed brutally in her abdomen, which led to the loss of blood causing her death. The ilana police division are currently investigating the case.’

Wura didn’t want to believe it until she saw it for herself and that was the reason, she was driving to ilana police station like a crazed person in the morning.

Thankfully, she was acquainted with the investigator. Once upon a time he came to TJH to assist him in solving a case, which led to his promotion as the chief investigator.

“What happened?” She demanded.

“She was stabbed, on her abdomen with a shard of wine bottle glass,” he explained, “it appears they left her there to die a slow death.”

Wura’s hand began to shake and she took in a deep breath to control herself. Peace was dead. Another person in her life was dead.

“Did you find anything on her? Any evidence?” her voice was unsteady.

The investigator shook his head sadly. “No we didn’t. Did you know her by any chance?”

Wura nodded absentmindedly as she ran her hand over her face, blinking away tears.

“How about her mother? She had a mother at the general hospital.” Wura remembered and stated.

He nodded, “I know, I’ve sent some of my guys to check up on her.” He took off his glasses to wipe them with a hanky, “is there something going on? Is it a TJH case?”

Wura could sense the hunger in his voice. She narrowed her eyes at him and replied firmly, “it’s a personal issue. Peace was my-she was my friend.”

“My condolences,” he wore his glasses.

“Do you have any leads on who did it?” Wura inquired. Of course, she knew who did it but she wouldn’t tell him.

“Not yet,” he said which she expected, “hopefully we should be able to get something soon.“

“Can I get the exact location of where you found her?” Wura probed on, “please.”

“Of course, let me write it down for you.” He took up a pen and scribbled on a piece of paper. Afterwards, he handed it over to her.

Wura collected it and folded it into her jean pocket. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door, followed by three people who entered the office. Two guys and a lady.

“Sir.” They saluted their boss.

“Yes, how was it?” He asked impatiently.

The three of them looked at one another before the lady spoke. “She’s dead sir. She died in her sleep at half past midnight.”

It was at that moment Wura decided that she’s heard enough death for one day. She rose, bid the chief investigator good bye and left the station.

Wura took in a deep breath as she climbed her bike. Peace was dead, her mother was dead. Dahlia had killed yet another person acquainted to her.

Wura arrived at the location half an hour later. It was a lonely street, with bushes on each side. She descended from her bike and surveyed the area. She squatted and examined the grass which had dried blood on them.

She took a picture for evidence and surveyed around once again. It was obvious that she had bleed to death, meaning there was a possibility that she was still alive when they dropped her.

An image of Peace bleeding to death with a shard of glass pierced in her abdomen flashed in Wura’s head, which made her lips quiver in grief. The image was then replaced by the memory of their last discussion, intensifying her tears.

“I will transfer you some money to assist your mum for her surgery.” Wura had told her as they sat at their usual table at TJH restaurant.

“For real?” Peace was astounded and she even ended up choking up on her smoothie. “Are you serious?”

“Did I stutter?” Wura raised a brow in question.

Peace clasped her palm over mouth in unbelief. “I’m speechless.”

“Forward me your account details today, you should an alert before the end of tomorrow.” Wura had instructed her, “leave Dahlia’s place please.”

“Leaving is not a problem, but I want to help in exposing Dahlia. I want to help you gain enough evidence to arrest her.” Peace said with zeal and truth in her voice.

“It’s too dangerous,” Wura told her the plain truth, “and you have to stay alive and safe to take care of your mum.”

“Please big sis,” Peace pleaded, “you’re like a big sister to me now.” She blushed, “I want to help you.”

Who was Wura to say no when she had already made up her mind not to leave?

“Okay,” Wura had finally conceded, “but be careful and if you can’t take it anymore, just go.”

“Just one more week,” Peace demonstrated by raising a finger, “one week, I promise to snoop around and find evidence.”

Wura chuckled at her determination, “okay fine, but you have to leave after a week, you hear me?”

Peace had bubbled her head excitedly in reply but now, she was dead.

Wura couldn’t stop the tears from rushing out as she sobbed profusely. She should’ve persuaded Peace to leave, she should’ve forced her to leave Dahlia’s place, she could’ve applied more effort.

Another person’s death hung on her neck like jewelry, and it was heavy.

Wura rose from her squatting position and wiped her tears with the back of her palm. She waited a few minutes to calm down and when she finally felt like she could mount her bike and drive without breaking down on the way, she turned and was about to head over to her bike when something on the ground caught her attention. The visible part was black, but the rest were buried in sand.

Curiously, she squatted, dug it out of the sand and picked it up. It was Peace’s phone, but how-

Something then hit her. When they had dumped Peace there, she was still alive, but struggling. She had buried the phone, hoping that the right person would see it, which meant that there was something valuable in her phone for her to have buried it.

Temporary excitement replaced her grief and guilt as she quickly pushed the phone in one of her jean pockets and mounted her bike.

Even though Peace was dead, she may have shed some light on her ongoing Dahlia’s case.

As Wura strolled to her favorite spot at the beach, her head was spinning with so much information she had discovered on Peace’s phone. She had to call Astrid to tell her she was going to be absent that day because of emergency- she wasn’t lying but she also wasn’t telling the truth. She would tell them the next day, but for now, she had to digest all of it.

Wura knew she had to destroy the source of the bullets, she knew that TJH planned on taking over the place from Dahlia, but assuming something worse happened? Assuming another lunatic had a crazy idea about taking control of the Gothium, what would happen then?

Hours of reading her brother’s diary had given her ideas, but they were all based on assumptions. The Gothium could be destroyed, but with what? Even her brother couldn’t answer that question.

She sighed a silhouette of someone standing at the shore of the beach, but she wasn’t sure until she moved closer.

When she did, she found out it was Nonso, which surprised her. But he didn’t notice her, he didn’t sense her, which was odd.

“A penny for your thought?” She broke the silence when she got close to him.

He turned sideways and Wura noticed his eyes were red, like he had been crying.

“Are you okay?” Wura began to panic, “what is it?”

“I didn’t realize I was crying,” Nonso wiped his tears and laughed without humour, “I’m so sorry you have
to see me like this.”

“Nonso, please, what happened?” Wura pleaded, “talk to me.”

“My cousin I lost touch with for over three years,” Nonso began, his voice unstable with emotions, “she- she was found dead by the road side this morning, she was stabbed. I-I feel like a terrible person.”

Realization hit Wura like a pile of bricks. Peace was Nonso’s cousin.

Instinctively, Wura hugged Nonso in attempt to console him. She patted his back in a rhythmic motion as he sobbed. She knew at the moment that Nonso didn't need words to console him, he needed her.

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Above is an image of how I picture Wura to look like😊