THE 365-DAYS WIFE

CHAPTER 15: Live

Damian’s G-Wagon flew through pre-dawn Lagos. 4:32am.

Zara sat in the passenger seat, the flash drive clutched in her fist. Her lips still tingled from Chapter 14. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. Not with Victor’s deadline in 3 hours.

But Damian kept glancing at her. Like he couldn’t help it.

“Stop looking at me,” Zara muttered.

“Can’t.” Damian’s voice was rough. “You’re here. You’re safe. I’m still processing that.”

Zara looked down. “About the kiss—”

“Don’t.” Damian cut her off. “Not now. We’ll deal with it after we’re not running for our lives.”

Zara nodded. But her hand found his on the gear shift anyway. He laced their fingers together. Neither of them let go.

Their destination: A news station. Channels TV.

“We leak it,” Damian said. “All of it. Amina’s videos. The Day 90 files. Victor’s voice on the call. We go live before Victor can spin it.”

“And if he gets there first?” Zara asked.

“Then we die trying.” Damian squeezed her hand. “But we die together.”

The station was dark except for one light in the back. Security guard at the gate.

Damian rolled down the window. “Okafor Group. Emergency press release.”

The guard looked skeptical. Then recognized Damian. His eyes went wide. “Sir. It’s 4am.”

“Open the gate.”

The gate opened.

Inside, the receptionist was asleep. Damian shook her awake.

“Miss. I need the live desk. Now.”

“Sir it’s—”

“Now.”

Ten minutes later they were in Studio 3. Cold lights. Cameras. A producer in a wrinkled shirt stared at them.

“Mr. Okafor, what is this about?”

Damian plugged the flash drive into the main console. Amina’s face filled the big screen.

“This,” Damian said. “Is about murder.”

Zara stood next to him. Her legs were shaking. Damian noticed. He stepped closer. Their shoulders touched.

The producer watched the first 30 seconds of the video and went pale. “Sir... this is... is this real?”

“It’s real,” Zara said. Her voice came out clear. Stronger than she felt. “My name is Zara Adeleke. I’m Damian Okafor’s wife. And this is what his brother did.”

Damian looked at her. Pride flashed in his eyes.

The producer swallowed. “We can go live in 5. But Mr. Okafor, if this is fake—”

“It’s not.” Damian turned to Zara. “You don’t have to do this.”

Zara met his eyes. “Yes I do. For Amina. For my mom. For us.”

Damian reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. “You’re so brave.”

“Because of you,” Zara whispered.

“30 seconds!” the producer yelled.

The red light came on.

_ON AIR._

Damian looked straight into the camera. “Good morning, Nigeria. My name is Damian Okafor. And I’m here to confess.”

Zara’s breath caught.

“For the last year, my brother Victor Okafor has been running an illegal experiment. He calls it Day 90. He targets vulnerable women. Marries them. Monitors them. And when they break...”

The screen behind him played Amina crying.

Zara stepped forward. “He picks women like me. Women with sick mothers. With debt. With nothing. He thinks we’re disposable.”

Damian’s hand found hers. On camera. For the whole country to see.

“He was wrong.”

The phones in the station started ringing. Nonstop.

Damian continued, voice steady. “Victor is at my safe house right now. With armed men. If anything happens to me, or to Zara, you’ll know who did it.”

He turned to Zara. The camera followed.

“Zara,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I used you. And I’m sorry it took me almost dying to realize that I—”

His phone screamed.

`VICTOR`

Damian answered on speaker. Put it on the live feed.

“Brother,” Victor’s voice was furious. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Telling the truth,” Damian said.

“You stupid— Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The company is tanking. The board—”

“The board can go to hell,” Damian said. “Just like you.”

Victor laughed. Unhinged. “Fine. You want to play? Let’s play. I’m outside the station. With friends. Come out and we’ll talk.”

The line went dead.

Silence in the studio.

Zara looked at Damian. “Is it true? Is he outside?”

Damian walked to the window. Pulled back the blind.

Three black SUVs. Parked across the street.

“Yeah,” Damian said quietly. “He’s here.”

The producer was panicking. “We need to call security! Police!”

“No time,” Damian said. He turned to Zara. “We have two options. Stay here and wait for police. Or run.”

Zara thought of the gun. Of Victor’s smile. Of her mom in the hospital.

She stepped forward and took Damian’s face in her hands. Kissed him. Hard. Fast. In front of everyone.

When she pulled back: “We run.”

Damian’s eyes were dark. “Together?”

“Together.”

They bolted.

Behind them, the producer yelled. In front of them, the back exit.

They hit the alley just as gunshots cracked behind them.

Damian shoved Zara in front of him. “Run! Don’t stop!”

They ran. Through alleys. Through markets that were just opening. Through fear and adrenaline and each other.

Finally, they ducked into an abandoned warehouse by the port. Breathing hard.

Zara doubled over. “Are we— are we okay?”

Damian checked her over. Hands on her arms. Her face. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Then he pulled her in. No hesitation this time.

He kissed her like the world was ending. Like he’d been holding back for 365 days.

Zara kissed him back just as hard. Her hands in his hair. His arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground.

When they broke apart, both were shaking.

“Damian,” Zara breathed.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not scared anymore. Not with you.”

Damian pressed his forehead to hers. “Good. Because I’m terrified. But I’m not letting go.”

Outside, they heard footsteps.

Victor’s voice, echoing: “Damian! Come out! We can end this nicely!”

Damian grabbed Zara’s hand. “Back door. Now.”

They ran again.

But this time, they were smiling.

Because for the first time in 365 days...

They had a chance.

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TO BE CONTINUED...