THE MAN LAGOS THINK I STOLE

Chapter Five – Fallout

I didn’t sleep.

Not because of fear. Because my phone wouldn’t stay quiet.

I turned it face down. Turned it back again. Picked it up. Dropped it on the bed. The message replayed in my head anyway.

You shouldn’t have gone outside alone.

By morning, my jaw hurt from clenching it.

I showered, dressed, and left the apartment without checking social media. I already knew what I’d find there. Knowing wouldn’t help.

Outside, Lagos moved like nothing had happened. Buses honked. A woman argued with a vendor. Someone laughed too loudly at nothing.

I almost convinced myself I’d imagined it all.

Then my phone buzzed.

Xander:

Where are you?

I stopped walking.

At home, I typed. Deleted it.

Out, I sent instead.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared.

Come to the office.

I stared at the screen.

I wasn’t told about today, I typed.

You don’t need to be told, came the reply. You need to be present.

That familiar pressure settled in my chest. Not panic. Something sharper.

I have work, I sent.

This time, he didn’t respond immediately.

When he did, it was shorter.

You had work yesterday too.

I shoved the phone into my bag and kept walking.

Ten minutes later, my client called.

I slowed.

“Hello?”

“Amara,” she said, voice tight. “We need to talk.”

I stopped completely this time.

“About the campaign?” I asked.

There was a pause. Just long enough.

“About… everything,” she said. “Can you come in?”

“I can,” I replied. “Now.”

When I hung up, my hands were shaking. I noticed because I had to switch my bag to the other shoulder to steady it.

The meeting didn’t last long.

They were polite. Careful. Too careful.

“We love your work,” she said.

“This is just temporary,” another added.

“It’s not personal.”

I nodded. Said I understood. Thanked them for their time.

I didn’t ask if they’d called Xander.

I already knew the answer.

Outside, I sat on the steps and stared at my phone.

Three missed calls. All from him.

I stood up and called back.

He answered on the first ring.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Handling my life,” I said.

“That’s not what this is about.”

“It is for me.”

Silence.

“Did they suspend you?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

“That’s a yes,” he said.

I closed my eyes. “You said this would protect me.”

“I said it would limit damage,” he replied. “Not erase it.”

“I lost a client.”

“And you’ll gain three more,” he said. “If you stop fighting visibility.”

“I’m not fighting,” I snapped. “I’m paying for it.”

“You’re paying because you won’t follow structure.”

I laughed. Bitter. “Structure didn’t stop someone from watching me last night.”

That got his attention.

“What do you mean?”

I hesitated.

I hated that I hesitated.

“Someone messaged me,” I said. “They knew where I was. They knew I’d stepped outside.”

Another pause. He didn’t fill this one.

“Forward it to me,” he said finally.

I did.

The reply came faster than I expected.

This changes things.

“Great,” I muttered. “Because things were going so well.”

“You should have told me immediately.”

“And you should have told me people would start circling,” I shot back.

“You walked off alone.”

“Because I was angry.”

“And now you’re exposed.”

I closed my eyes again. “Stop talking like this is a business problem.”

“It is,” he said. “And you’re part of it.”

That did something to me.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t be,” I said.

“Don’t,” he replied. Sharp. Immediate.

I smiled without humour. “You don’t get to decide when I walk away.”

“No,” he said. “But I get to decide what happens if you do.”

There it was again. Not a threat. A fact.

“Come to the office,” he said. “We need to adjust.”

“I’m tired of adjusting,” I said. “I didn’t agree to be managed.”

“You agreed to survive.”

I ended the call.

My phone rang immediately. I let it.

A message followed.

You can’t afford to do this alone.

I stared at the words.

Then another message came in. Unknown number.

You don’t belong in his world. They’ll make sure you learn that.

My stomach dropped. Not fear. Anger.

I typed back before I could stop myself.

Who is this?

Three dots appeared.

Then nothing.

I stood there longer than I meant to, phone heavy in my hand.

By the time I finally moved, I knew two things.

One –walking away wouldn’t end this.

Two–staying meant giving up control I wasn’t sure I could afford to lose.

Either way, the fallout had started.

And this time, there was no quiet room to step into.