Mariaa

Maria's initiation into the network was swift and disorienting. Within 24 hours of her call, she was given instructions to meet at an upscale but inconspicuous lounge in Ikoyi. The instructions were clear: no personal devices, no questions, and absolute discretion.

Maria arrived dressed impeccably but unremarkably, blending seamlessly with the clientele of wealthy professionals and foreign expatriates. She was led to a private room by a hostess who said nothing but gave her a knowing look before closing the door behind her. Inside, Amina waited, flanked by two men whose imposing presence made it clear they were more than just bodyguards.

"Maria," Amina greeted, her tone warm yet professional. "Welcome. Have a seat."

Maria complied, her posture relaxed but her senses alert. She noticed the subtle details in the room: the high-tech security camera discreetly embedded in the ceiling, the soundproofed walls, and the faint smell of expensive cigars. This was a space designed for conversations that couldn't be overheard.

"So," Maria began, her voice steady, "what happens now?"

Amina smiled, clasping her hands together. "Now, we lay the groundwork. You've already proven your capabilities, Maria. But being part of this network requires more than just skill. It requires trust, discipline, and a commitment to the cause."

"The cause," Maria echoed. "Which is…?"

"Justice," Amina said simply. "Real justice. Not the kind handed down by corrupt courts or bought by the wealthy elite. We're talking about balance, correcting the scales where they've been tipped too far in favor of the undeserving."

Maria leaned back, studying Amina's expression. There was no trace of doubt or hesitation in her words. She spoke with conviction, and Maria found herself drawn to that clarity of purpose.

"And what's my role in all this?" Maria asked.

Amina's smile widened slightly. "You'll see soon enough. For now, consider this a probationary period. We'll assign you tasks, observe how you handle them, and determine if you're ready for the full responsibilities of being one of us."

Maria nodded, masking her unease. She didn't like the idea of being evaluated, but she understood the necessity of proving herself. "When do I start?"

"Immediately," Amina replied, sliding a manila envelope across the table. "Your first target."

Back in her apartment, Maria opened the envelope with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Inside was a dossier containing photographs, financial records, and personal details about a man named Charles Etim, a prominent oil magnate with a reputation for exploiting his workers and bribing government officials to cover up environmental disasters.

Maria read through the file meticulously, noting every detail. Charles lived in a heavily secured estate in Banana Island, surrounded by private guards and state-of-the-art surveillance systems. But he also had a weakness: a penchant for luxury casinos, where he spent his evenings gambling and drinking.

The network's message was clear. This wasn't just about eliminating Charles; it was about sending a message. His death needed to be precise, impactful, and untraceable. Maria's mind raced as she began formulating a plan.

Three nights later, Maria found herself in the opulent surroundings of the Grand Royale Casino. The air buzzed with the sounds of slot machines, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation. Maria blended in effortlessly, wearing a sleek black dress that accentuated her figure without drawing too much attention.

Charles was easy to spot, seated at a high-stakes poker table with a group of equally wealthy men. He laughed loudly, his face flushed from alcohol, as he threw chips onto the table with reckless abandon. Maria observed him from a distance, noting his mannerisms and the interactions he had with those around him.

She didn't approach him directly. Instead, she positioned herself strategically, ensuring she was in his line of sight without being obvious. It didn't take long for Charles to notice her. His gaze lingered, his interest piqued.

Maria played her part perfectly. She allowed herself to be noticed but never appeared eager. When Charles finally approached her at the bar, she acted pleasantly surprised.

"You're not much of a gambler, are you?" Charles said, his tone playful.

Maria smiled. "Not tonight. I'm just here for the atmosphere."

"Well, you picked the right place," Charles said, signaling the bartender to refill her glass. "Charles Etim."

"Maria," she replied, extending her hand.

They talked for a while, their conversation light and flirtatious. Charles was charming in a superficial way, but Maria saw through his facade. He was used to getting what he wanted, and tonight, he had decided he wanted her.

"How about we continue this conversation somewhere more private?" Charles suggested, his voice lowering suggestively.

Maria hesitated just long enough to make her agreement seem reluctant. "Alright," she said finally. "Lead the way."

Charles's penthouse suite was as extravagant as Maria had expected. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, while expensive artwork and designer furniture adorned the space. Charles poured them both drinks, his movements confident and casual.

Maria accepted the drink but didn't touch it. Instead, she let Charles do most of the talking, nodding and laughing at his stories while subtly surveying the room. Her eyes landed on a sleek glass coffee table where he had carelessly left his phone and a keycard.

When the moment was right, Maria excused herself to the bathroom. Once inside, she quickly retrieved a small vial from her purse. The vial contained a potent but undetectable poison she had procured weeks earlier, just in case. She tipped a few drops into her drink and returned to the living room, placing her glass on the table near Charles's.

"To new friends," Maria said, raising her glass.

Charles grinned and clinked his glass against hers. He downed his drink in one gulp, oblivious to the danger. Within minutes, his jovial demeanor began to change. He clutched his chest, his breathing shallow and labored.

"What… what's happening?" he gasped.

Maria watched calmly as he collapsed onto the floor, his body convulsing briefly before going still. She knelt beside him, checking for a pulse. There was none.

Working quickly, Maria wiped down any surfaces she had touched and retrieved the keycard from the table. She slipped out of the penthouse unnoticed, her heart pounding but her mind focused.

The following morning, the news broke: Charles Etim, the controversial oil tycoon, had been found dead in his penthouse. Initial reports suggested a heart attack, but speculation swirled about foul play. The media frenzy was exactly what the network had anticipated.

Maria sat in her apartment, watching the coverage with a sense of satisfaction. She had executed the mission flawlessly, and the network's message had been delivered. But as she reflected on the events of the past week, a nagging thought lingered in her mind.

Amina had promised protection, but Maria knew better than to place blind trust in anyone. She was playing a dangerous game, and the only way to survive was to stay one step ahead of the network, of Ojo, and of anyone else who dared to cross her path.