The Unraveling
1056 Words
**Nathaniel’s Move**
Nathaniel’s office smelled like burnt coffee and stress. He hadn’t left all night. His shirt was wrinkled, stubble covered his jaw, and a bottle of antacids sat beside his keyboard.
Jane slammed a USB drive onto his desk. “Listen.”
He didn’t even blink. “Is that Dele’s voice?”
“And Linda’s.”
As the recording played, his face grew tight. Then Linda’s voice came through, laughing: *“You’ll ruin him, Dele. Just like last time.”* Nathaniel’s fist hit the desk.
“She’s doing it again,” he said. “Just like Lagos.”
Jane leaned in. “What do you mean?”
He turned his laptop toward her. Email after email popped up—messages between Linda and Ayocom’s board.
* *Subject: Re: Ajayi’s Unstable Performance*
*“…photos of her leaving Ayodele’s apartment after midnight. Conflict of interest.”*
* *Subject: Urgent: Legal Risk*
*“Ajayi’s connection to Ayodele’s past scandal means suspension is necessary to reduce exposure…”*
Jane’s heart pounded. “It’s all lies.”
“Doesn’t matter. The board’s already voting on your suspension.” He stood, the chair screeching. “I’m suing for defamation.”
“What if they believe her?”
“Then we go down together.” His eyes met hers—fierce, unshaken. “But I won’t let her destroy what we built.”
The word *we* floated between them.
Jane stepped back. “This isn’t about *us*.”
“Isn’t it?” He grabbed his jacket. “Stay here. I’ll talk to the board.”
“No,” she said, standing in front of the door. “We do it *together*.”
For a moment, he looked like he might argue. Then he nodded with the faintest smile. “Always.”
---
**Mama’s Intervention**
Mama was in Jane’s kitchen, *jollof* rice burning on the stove as she scrolled through w******p.
“Your face is on *Nairaland*,” she said, waving her phone.
The headline screamed:
*“Scandal: Abuja Tech Star and CEO Caught in Secret Affair!”*
Underneath, a blurry photo of Jane and Nathaniel at Jabi Lake.
“Is it true?” Mama asked, voice shaking.
Jane tossed the phone aside. “Does it matter?”
“*Ọmọ mi*—”
“No, Mama! I’m done trying to explain myself to people who just want me to fail.” She yanked the pot off the stove. “Why can’t you just trust me?”
Mama’s slap rang out.
Jane touched her cheek, stunned. Mama had never hit her before.
“You think I like this?” Mama’s voice cracked. “Hearing people call my daughter *ọlọ́jà*, gossiping behind our backs? They say you’re an *ashewo*, chasing rich men. I defend you. But now?” She pointed at the phone. “Even I don’t know what to say.”
Jane’s anger faded. “Mama, I’m not—”
“I know.” Mama pulled her close, wrapping her in a hug. “But this world is cruel to women who are too soft. I just wanted to protect you.”
Jane held on tight, surrounded by the smell of coconut oil and the weight of love.
---
**Tara’s Discovery**
Tara pulled Jane into the bathroom, her cousin on speakerphone.
“Linda’s been spying on Nathaniel’s emails for *months*,” she whispered. “She’s got everything—bank records, court files, even his therapy bills.”
Jane stared at the mirror. “Therapy?”
“After the fraud case in Lagos. He had a breakdown.” Tara paused. “She’s been digging into *your* past too.”
Jane’s breath caught. “What did she find?”
“Old grades. Medical history. That lawsuit your dad had in Ilorin—”
Jane’s knees buckled. She grabbed the sink. “Why would she do this?”
Tara’s cousin answered, “Insurance. In case you ever pushed back.”
Jane splashed her face with water. “Can you prove it?”
“I already sent the logs. Her computer. Her searches.”
Suddenly, the door opened—Linda’s assistant. She froze.
Tara smiled. “Occupied. Try the 4th floor.”
Once she was gone, Tara grabbed Jane’s arm. “We’ve got her. Now it’s your move.”
---
**The Leak**
By lunchtime, the office buzzed with whispers.
Someone had emailed Linda’s secrets to *everyone*:
* Her search history: *“How to frame an employee”*
* Bank transfers to a private investigator
* A resignation letter she drafted for Nathaniel titled *“Guilty Conscience”*
Linda’s office stayed locked, but her scream echoed when IT shut down her access.
Nathaniel found Jane by the coffee machine. “Did you do this?”
She handed him a printout. “Tara’s cousin found the proof.”
He looked it over, jaw clenched. “This is illegal.”
“So is blackmail.”
He paused, then crushed the paper and tossed it in the trash. “I didn’t see anything.”
---
**Amara’s Gambit**
Jane’s phone buzzed at lunch: CNN Africa breaking news.
*“Whistleblower Reveals Corporate Blackmail in Abuja Tech Firm.”*
Amara’s interview played. Her face was hidden, voice disguised, but her words were clear:
*“This isn’t about one company. It’s about deep-rooted rot. Sometimes, you have to burn the rot to save the roots.”*
Jane called her. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did,” Amara replied, voice shaking. “Lagos broke me. Don’t let Abuja do the same.”
Then she hung up.
---
**The Fallout**
Linda resigned as the sun set.
Jane found Nathaniel on the rooftop, staring at the city skyline.
“It’s over,” he said.
Jane stood beside him. “No. It’s just beginning.”
He turned to her, eyes soft. “What now?”
She gave him the USB. “We rebuild. But better.”
He pocketed it. “And us?”
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Jane stepped back. “There’s no *us*. Not yet.”
He nodded. “Fair.”
As they walked inside, Jane’s phone buzzed. A message from Mama:
*“Come home this weekend. We’ll make *efo riro*. No fighting.”*
For the first time in weeks, Jane smiled.
- Writer
