Prey of the Patriarchy

Chapter 1( Episode 1) INSIDE THE DARK WORLD OF SUGAR DADDIES Lagos glittered like a river of fire that night. Cars roared, horns blared, music bounced off high-rise walls, and the scent of expensive perfumes mixed with the faint tang of fried plantain and city exhaust. At a charity gala in Ikoyi, Justice Adekunle Adebayo leaned back in his designer suit, shaking hands with dignitaries while offering polite smiles. His face radiated calm authority, the kind of man people trusted without question. He had just donated a school library, and the press had captured every angle. Cameras flashed; people clapped; the world thought of him as a saint.Not far away, Alhaji Musa Danjuma watched children line up for a medical check-up at a hospital he had renovated. The boys and girls laughed, oblivious to the luxury that surrounded them. He moved quietly, speaking kindly, handing envelopes to mothers, shaking hands with elders. A man of substance, they said. A man of integrity. And the young girls watching from the sidelines were thinking something else entirely.Chief Chinedu Ibekwe walked through a gala hall, nodding at politicians, businessmen, and women in glittering gowns. A fresh school wing had been funded by him, and the smiles on the children’s faces were enough to make society call him a hero. But in the eyes of the young girls in attendance, his heroism had nothing to do with schools—it was about the cars, the trips abroad, the aura of wealth they craved.For these girls, poverty was humiliation. Love without money was an insult. And when they saw men like these, everything else faded.Aderonke was first. She had lingered near the gala exit, pretending to admire the decorations. When she noticed Justice Adekunle moving toward his car, she quickened her steps, clutching her purse nervously. She cleared her throat. “Sir… excuse me… I… I just wanted to say… I really admire you. I… I can do anything to… to be around you.” Her voice trembled with excitement and desperation.Justice Adekunle glanced at her calmly, noting the eagerness in her tone. He said nothing immediately, letting her speak. She continued, stumbling over words, eyes wide, like a girl who had only dreamed of wealth all her life. When she paused for breath, he asked gently, “What’s your name?”“Aderonke… Aderonke Oladele,” she said quickly, as if saying it fast made it more real. “I live in Surulere… I… I can come by whenever you want, sir…”He smiled faintly, handing her a silver call card. “I’ll be in touch,” he said lightly, as if it were casual. In reality, he already knew. He had seen her desperation, measured it, and added her name to a growing list of girls to be discussed at the next brotherhood meeting.Aderonke walked away, hands shaking, her heart racing. She would call. She would message. She would even wait outside his car if needed. Anything to taste that life.Zainab’s approach was bolder. At a club in Victoria Island, Alhaji Musa sipped wine quietly, speaking with businessmen about hospital funding. Zainab sidled up to him with her friends, swaying her hips deliberately, perfume strong in the air. “Sir… Alhaji… I’ve been watching you for a while… I… I really like you,” she said with a flirtatious grin. “I can do anything… I mean anything… to get closer to you.”Alhaji Musa looked at her calmly, not startled, not flustered. He had seen this before—girls begging, girls flaunting, girls desperate for attention. He leaned slightly, lowered his voice, and asked, “Your name?”“Zainab Yusuf, sir… Surulere… I… I just want to be around you.” I can do anything, sir.He gave her a card, his tone casual, but the weight of his gaze measured her soul. Her eyes lit up. She would call incessantly. She would flood his inbox. She would wait at every club he visited, hoping to catch a glance. Her life, and all she had dreamed of, now orbited around him.Ifunanya was quieter, more calculated, but no less desperate. At a charity event in Lekki, Chief Ibekwe had just finished donating ambulances. She approached with a polite smile, clutching her phone. “Sir… I admire what you’re doing… I… I would love to know you better… I can… I can help you, support you… anything,” she stammered, voice low but insistent.Chief Ibekwe studied her, noting the tone of hunger beneath the words. He asked her name. “Ifunanya Okeke,” she said without hesitation. “I live with my aunt, but I can come anywhere… anytime…”He handed her a card. She smiled, unable to hide her excitement. She would call. She would follow. She would do anything for a taste of that wealth, that lifestyle, that security.Across Lagos that night, the three men returned to their apartments, villas, and penthouses, each surrounded by cars, watches, clothes, private jets, and security. The city slept, but not the machine they had set in motion. Girls had been noticed, names recorded, desperation measured. In another room, their phones lit up with calls, messages, and emails from girls already obsessed Episode 2 The city slept, but not the machine they had set in motion. Girls had been noticed, names recorded, desperation measured. In another room, their phones lit up with calls, messages, and emails from girls already obsessed with the briefest attention. They smiled politely, took notes, and added every girl to their growing list.Weeks passed. Some girls are called dozens of times a day. Some arrived uninvited at charity events or clubs, hoping for recognition. Some waited outside cars, restaurants, and office buildings. The men tolerated all of it calmly. In private, they chuckled at the obsession, the hunger, the naivety—but it all had value.And then came the day of the brotherhood meeting.In a secluded compound far from the city’s noise, the three men and other members gathered with the Grand Master. The room was silent, dimly lit, filled with the faint scent of incense and polished wood. The three men laid down the names: Aderonke Oladele, Zainab Yusuf, and Ifunanya Okeke.One by one, the Grand Master scanned, measured, and judged. Fingers traced invisible patterns. Eyes narrowed. Lips pursed.“Aderonke Oladele… good,” he said finally. “Strong glory… untouched… patience will yield. You will need approximately three years to fully drain her star.”He looked at Zainab. “Yours… two years. She is bold, persistent, and easily influenced… a fast yield, but care must be taken. Overwhelm too soon, and she resists.”Finally, Ifunanya. “She is tricky… her glow is strong, subtle… patience required… four years.Slow, gentle, persistent… let her believe attachment is hers to give.”The men nodded silently. No one spoke. They had discussed strategy for years, but every girl was a new calculation, a new investment. The machinery of wealth, desire, and destruction was in motion. Outside, Lagos pulsed with life, but in that room, time was measured not by hours or days but by glory, patience, and consumption.​The Grand Master closed the ledger with a soft, final thud that seemed to echo against the mahogany walls. He looked at the three men—men the world saw as pillars of society but who were merely conduits for a darker hunger.​"The banquet is set," he whispered, his voice like dry parchment. "Proceed with the standard protocol. Give them the world so that when you take it away, they have nothing left to hold onto but the void."​The men rose in unison. There was no celebration, no cheers—only the heavy, silent weight of a debt that was about to be transferred from the predator to the prey.​A City Unaware​As they stepped out of the compound and into the humid Lagos night, the city greeted them with its usual chaotic symphony. Miles away, in cramped apartments and neon-lit bedrooms, Aderonke, Zainab, and Ifunanya looked at their phone screens, waiting for the vibration that would signal a new life. They saw a doorway to luxury, a shortcut to the dreams they had been told they deserved.​They didn't see the invisible threads being tied around their wrists. They didn't hear the countdown that had just begun in a silent room.​The Final Move​The three men entered their waiting cars, the tinted glass swallowing them into the shadows. As Justice Adebayo pulled away, he checked a notification on his phone. A message from Aderonke: “I can’t stop thinking about our last conversation. Thank you for seeing me.”​A ghost of a smile touched his lips—not of affection, but of a craftsman admiring a perfect tool. He didn't reply. He knew the power of silence. He knew that by tomorrow, she would be twice as desperate to hear his voice.​The hunt was over. The consumption had begun.​The air in the rooftop lounge was scented with expensive oud and the salt spray of the Atlantic. Aderonke smoothed the silk of her dress for the hundredth time, her heart hammering a rhythm that felt far too loud for the soft jazz playing in the background. She felt like a trespasser in a palace, until she saw him.​Justice Adebayo sat at a corner table, the city lights of Victoria Island glittering behind him like a sea of fallen diamonds. He didn't wave; he simply watched her approach with a steady, proprietary gaze that made her feel simultaneously small and like the only woman in the world.​The Illusion of Choice​"You look... radiant, Aderonke," he said, rising just enough to show respect, but not enough to lose his air of absolute authority. He pulled out her chair—a gesture of old-world chivalry that felt like a shield against the world she had left behind in her cramped shared apartment.​"Thank you, sir," she whispered, her voice trembling.​"Sir?" He chuckled, a deep, melodic sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Tonight, I am simply a man captivated by your potential. Let us leave the titles for the courtroom."​The First Withdrawal​He didn't order from the menu. He spoke to the waiter in a low tone, and minutes later, dishes appeared that Aderonke didn't recognise but tasted like pure indulgence.​