Dangerous Flame

The threatening message with the crossed-out photo left me scared for the first time. I almost deleted everything and blocked the number. But after thinking well, I screenshot it and saved it in a hidden folder. Something in me refused to stop. The more they warned me, the more I wanted to know the truth.

Work became the perfect cover. The PR campaign for Emmy’s company meant we had to have more meetings. Two days later, he invited me to his office again, this time in the evening after normal hours. When I arrived, only few staff were around.

We finished the work discussion quickly. Then he ordered food from one expensive restaurant — grilled fish, rice, and fresh juice. As we ate, the conversation became more personal.

“Ifeoma and I… we have not been okay for a long time,” he said, looking into his glass. “She married me for the status and money. I married her because my family pressured me after Adanna left. It’s been cold for years now.”

I listened quietly. Part of me felt sorry for him. Another part knew this was dangerous territory. Married man pouring out his heart.

“Ada, you’re different,” he continued. “You listen. You don’t just see the Chief or the money. You see the man.”

Before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me. Soft at first, then deeper. For few seconds, I kissed him back. The feeling was strong — mixture of excitement and guilt. When we finally pulled apart, reality hit me.

“Emmy… this is wrong. You have a wife.”

He touched my face gently. “I know. But this feels right. Just give us time to figure it out.”

I left his office that night confused. My heart was beating fast and my mind was scattered. When I reached the estate, I saw Ifeoma’s car parked outside their house. She was standing by the gate, staring at my direction as I drove in. Our eyes met. She didn’t smile.

The next day, Tolu came to my house after work. I told her everything — the kiss, the confession, the threats.

“Ada, are you mad?” she shouted. “This man is married! And someone is threatening you. Stop this thing before it destroys you. Delete his number. Focus on your life.”

I promised her I would slow down. But that night, Emmy sent me a message:

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Come to the estate garden tomorrow night by 9. Please.”

I know I suppose delete the message. Instead, I replied: “Okay. But just to talk.”

The garden was quiet and romantic with soft lights. When I reached, Emmy was already waiting. We sat on one bench, talking in low voices. He held my hand and told me more about his struggles — the pressure to maintain the image, the dirty deals in real estate business, and how he sometimes wished he could start fresh.

The attraction was getting stronger. We kissed again, longer this time. My body wanted him, but my mind was screaming danger.

As we were about to leave the garden separately, I saw movement behind one flower bush. Someone was watching us. Before I could say anything, the person disappeared into the shadows.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

When I got home, one new message was waiting:

“You were warned. Now you have crossed the line. Ifeoma knows.”

To be continued…