Mariaa

The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and sawdust. Maria sat in the small workshop located at the back of the Okafor property, her fingers meticulously sharpening a chisel that had belonged to her grandfather. This toolset, a relic of a time when men built things instead of breaking them, had been left untouched for years. Now, it served a new purpose.

Maria turned the blade over in her hand, admiring its keen edge under the overhead lamp. She smiled faintly, thinking of how objects often carried histories. The chisel is a weapon of precision. It reminded her of herself.

It had been three weeks since Richard's demise. While his disappearance had sparked some murmurs within the family, most dismissed it. A man like him, often unpredictable and secretive, could disappear for weeks without anyone asking questions. Maria ensured she was present at family gatherings, smiling and playing the perfect niece. Her carefully curated image was a shield no one questioned.

Tonight, she had another task, one far more intriguing. Her eyes flicked to a list lying on the corner of the workbench. "Adekunle Ayodele" was circled in bold red ink.

Maria had seen him at a cocktail party weeks ago. Adekunle's loud, boisterous laughter, his overbearing charm, and his tendency to dominate conversations grated on her. He was wealthy, self-assured, and had an air of entitlement that Maria found distasteful. Men like him had a way of getting away with everything, including trampling on others.

The decision had come easily. She watched him closely that night noting his routine, observing the way he drank excessively but still made calculated moves to impress his companions. She followed him online, browsing social media accounts filled with photos of flashy cars and expensive vacations. Adekunle represented everything Maria despised.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 8 p.m. Time to move.

Maria slipped into a fitted black outfit, one that allowed for ease of movement while blending into the shadows. Lagos at night was chaotic, with streetlights casting intermittent pools of light and the sound of generators humming in the background. She slid into her unassuming Toyota Corolla and drove toward Victoria Island.

Her destination was an upscale lounge where Adekunle often spent his evenings. The establishment was dimly lit, its interior a blend of modern design and vintage charm. Maria walked in confidently, her demeanor unassuming but striking enough to turn heads.

She spotted Adekunle immediately. He was at the bar, laughing loudly with a group of men who appeared equally self-absorbed. She took a seat a few stools away, ordered a cocktail, and waited. Her strategy was simple: men like Adekunle thrived on attention, and Maria had mastered the art of being seen.

Soon enough, his gaze found her. She pretended not to notice at first, focusing on her drink and letting him observe her. The faintest smile curved her lips when he finally made his move.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

Maria looked up, feigning surprise. "Oh, not at all. Please."

Adekunle introduced himself, and Maria reciprocated with her carefully constructed alias: Adanna, an interior designer. Their conversation flowed effortlessly. Maria listened intently, letting him dominate the discussion while dropping subtle cues to keep him engaged. She laughed at his jokes, complimented his insights, and made him feel like the most interesting man in the room.

After an hour, he leaned closer, his voice lowering suggestively. "You're fascinating, Adanna. What are you doing after this?"

Maria tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mock innocence. "I don't know. What do you suggest?"

They left the lounge together, Adekunle's arm casually draped around her shoulders as they walked to his car. Maria's heart raced, but her exterior remained calm. This was the moment she lived for the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of control.

Adekunle's penthouse apartment was exactly as she imagined: opulent and ostentatious, filled with expensive furniture and art pieces meant to impress. He poured them drinks, his charm still in full force. Maria accepted her glass but barely sipped it, her mind already mapping out her next steps.

"You're different," Adekunle said, sitting beside her on the leather couch. "Not like the other women I meet."

Maria smiled, leaning closer. "And you're quite intriguing yourself."

She placed her hand on his knee, watching his reaction. He grinned, taking it as a sign of encouragement. But Maria's mind was elsewhere. The chisel she had concealed in her bag felt reassuring, its weight a promise of what was to come.

When the time was right, she acted. Swiftly and without hesitation. Her movements were precise, the blade finding its mark as Adekunle's expression shifted from confusion to terror. The sound of the city outside drowned out his final gasp.

Maria stood over him, her breathing steady. She cleaned up as she always did, leaving no trace of her presence. By the time she exited the building, Lagos was still alive with its nocturnal rhythm, oblivious to the darkness Maria carried within her.

In her car, she opened her journal and crossed out Adekunle's name. Another one down. Another triumph.

Maria drove home, the faintest smile playing on her lips. She was untouchable. For now.