THE CONTRACT
*Chapter 1: THE CONTRACT
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2:17am. Port Harcourt rain hit her window like broken glass.
Chioma Nwosu stared at her cracked phone screen until the light burned her eyes. One new message. Unknown number. No name. Just a threat dressed as an offer.
_Bought. ₦50,000,000. 1 year. My name. Your silence. Sign by dawn._
_Daniel Okoye._
She laughed. It came out bitter, broken. ₦50 million. Like he was ordering coffee.
On the table, her sister Ada’s hospital bill glared back at her. ₦48,700,000. Red stamp. FINAL NOTICE. Surgery in 48 hours or they discharge her. Discharge = death.
Chioma’s hands shook as she typed: _Clause 1. I’m not for sale._
She hit send before she could regret it.
Three seconds.
Reply: _Everyone get price, Miss Nwosu. I just found yours. Dawn, Chioma. Don’t make me wait._
Her chest tightened. How he take know my name? How did he know about Ada?
Outside, a car horn beeped. Once. Deep, commanding. Like it owned the street.
She pulled the curtain back. Blue Bentley. Parked under the flickering streetlight. Engine running. Driver’s window down, but she couldn’t see his face. Just shadow. Power.
Her phone buzzed again.
_Location sent. Ikoyi. My house. Come alone, Mrs. Okoye._
A pin dropped. A mansion address that cost more than her entire street.
She for block am. Call police. Anything but this.
But Ada’s ventilator beeped in her head. _We need 50 million, Chioma. Or we lose her._
“Not for sale,” she whispered to the empty room. “But I can be rented.”
She grabbed the only bag she owned. Threw in one thing: Ada’s childhood photo. Both of them, age 8 and 10, grinning with missing teeth. That was all she had left of “before”.
The rain soaked her sneakers as she ran. The Bentley door opened from inside. No driver. Just darkness.
“Get in, Mrs. Okoye,” a voice said. Low. Cold. Like he was bored of waiting.
Chioma hesitated. One step in that car = one year sold.
The voice again, closer: “₦50 million is sitting in your sister’s hospital account right now. Check your phone.”
She did. Credit alert. ₦50,000,000. Paid. Confirmed.
Her knees went weak.
She climbed in. Leather seats. Smell of expensive cologne + danger. The door closed behind her. Soft. Final.
The Bentley moved. Through Port Harcourt rain. Toward Ikoyi. Toward him.
Her phone lit up one last time before she switched it off:
_Welcome home, Mrs. Okoye. I bought you. Now act like it._
The gates of the mansion opened. 12ft tall. Black iron. Spikes on top.
Daniel Okoye didn’t just buy a wife.
He bought her desperation.
And Chioma had no idea what he planned to do with it.
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*End of Chapter 1*
