"You're sure its him?" Femi asked, staring down at the file in front of him.
"Positive sir. It's him" lawal replied.
Lawal sat across his boss in his sitting room- well, one of his sitting rooms watching his eyes brighten with a burning intensity- the kind he hadn't seen in his boss since the first time their paths crossed. At the age of 45 lawal was a loyalist. He would often recount his encounter with Mr femi to always remind himself why he was still loyal to this man. Left for dead on one of the beaches of the remote bony island in a drug deal gone south, femi resuscitated him back to life and smuggled him out of the island. This man had saved his life and he would give his life protecting his- he would often tell himself. Lawal was a strong man, so strong you would doubt his age. He was tall with an athletic build, short black hair with a receding hairline. He wore a full beard and had a scar across his face, a scar that always reminded him what side he was on. "What do you want us to do sir"?
"nothing for now" femi replied, still scanning the file in his hands. "Just keep watching him". He could feel the energy coursing through his veins, it made him feel alive for the first time in decades. Finally he could unburden the weight of helplessness he had carried for so long, Finally he was going to have his revenge.
Born into a wealthy family, femi had always understood the need for power. He craved it, it was his elixir. He loathed the feeling of weakness needless to say why he never got along with his father. "he'd never understand" he'd always say to lawal, "the weak never survive in this world" and so when he's father died, it didn't take long for his business partners to understand who was the boss. "And Vancouver"? He asked.
" everything's already in place sir" lawal replied.
"Good. Make sure to be very discrete. No one must be able to trace this back to me"
"Of course sir.... The plan is watertight"
"Thank you lawal. That'll be all. You can go now".
Over the years Mr oluwafemi smith had transformed into a softspoken man you could mistake it for kindness. Far from it, he had learned to be calm, in control and manipulative and plus he also needed a personality alibi to mask his treacherous thirst for power. Over the past thirty years he had amassed an empire worth over eight hundred million naira manipulating companies into selling to him. Hostile takeovers were his specialty but this one thing even his own money could not buy. He could still see the look of despair in her eyes, covered in a pool of her own blood when she asked him "femi am I going to die"?
" they'll pay " he thought to himself. "They are all going to pay!"
††††††
"How could someone so beautiful have such tempestuous audacity" bankole thought to himself as he watched bimbo eat away at her lunch. She didn't seem to care about manners, at least not in front of him. There was a dignity about her that eluded him. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He had never loved before but just staring at this woman made him feel uneasy in more ways than one.
"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to eat your food?" Bimbo asked, looking at him with suspicious eyes.
"Oh don't worry I'm not hungry" Bankole blurted out. If this woman made him nervous, he had a very good way of hiding it.
"Okay..... If you say so" she said and continued eating.
When bankole had first met bimbo he thought she would be like every other woman he had met; needy, emotional and impulsive, you know- the usual check list. Bimbo was beautiful nonetheless with a proud and erect fleshy structure. She was voluptuous with full firm buttocks and stubborn eyes. "How many men have tried to conquer her and failed" he had thought to himself after she shoved his toxic masculinity down his throat at their first encounter. He was being consumed by her and he did not even know it.
