Mariaa

Maria had always been meticulous, but as the weeks passed since her encounter with Dapo, she realized the necessity of sharpening her strategies. Lagos was a sprawling city, chaotic and filled with distractions, but it was also a place where secrets rarely stayed buried. The newspapers had begun to piece together a pattern: a string of deaths tied to powerful, influential men. Though they hadn't drawn any concrete conclusions, the murmurs of a potential serial killer were growing louder.

Maria watched the news reports with a sense of detachment, sipping her tea in the mornings as anchors speculated wildly. Some claimed it was a vengeful associate; others suggested ritualistic killings. No one suspected a woman, much less someone like her. She was invisible in plain sight, and she intended to keep it that way.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. It was a message from Chidera, a close friend and colleague.

Chidera: Lunch today? Usual spot?

Maria hesitated before replying. She needed to maintain her social appearances, but she couldn't afford to be careless. Still, Chidera was persistent and perceptive, avoiding her too often might raise questions.

Maria: 12:30. See you there.

The "usual spot" was a quaint restaurant tucked away in Lekki Phase 1, known for its serene ambiance. Maria arrived promptly, dressed in a simple yet elegant blue dress. Chidera was already seated, waving enthusiastically as Maria approached.

"You're glowing," Chidera said as Maria sat down. "New man in your life?"

Maria laughed lightly. "Hardly. Just focusing on myself these days."

Chidera leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working. I wish I had your discipline. Anyway, did you hear about that Adekunle guy? They found his car abandoned in Victoria Island. No sign of him anywhere."

Maria feigned surprise, her brows furrowing. "Really? That's unsettling. Do they think it's foul play?"

"Who knows? Lagos is wild these days. My cousin works with the police; she says they're swamped with cases like this. Wealthy men disappearing or turning up dead. Honestly, it's giving me chills."

Maria nodded, her expression appropriately grave. "It's terrifying. Makes you wonder if anyone's really safe."

Chidera continued to chatter about work, family, and upcoming weddings, but Maria's mind drifted. She'd underestimated the ripple effects of her actions. While she'd meticulously covered her tracks, the increasing scrutiny meant she had to be even more careful. She couldn't afford mistakes, not now.

That evening, Maria returned to her apartment and locked the door behind her. She walked to her bedroom, where a corkboard hung behind her closet door. On it were photos, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes, all connected by red strings. Each thread represented a target, a plan, a carefully crafted web of control. At the center of the board was a photo of her next mark: Chief Olumide Bakare.

Chief Bakare was a prominent businessman and philanthropist, known for his charitable donations and public appearances. But Maria had learned the truth through whispers in the shadows. He was ruthless, manipulative, and known to exploit those beneath him. His wealth and influence shielded him from accountability, but Maria intended to change that.

She spent the next few hours finalizing her plan. Chief Bakare was hosting a gala in two days at his private estate. The guest list was exclusive, but Maria had secured an invitation through one of her many connections. She would blend in seamlessly, just another elegant woman in a sea of high society. But by the end of the night, Bakare would pay for his sins.

The night of the gala arrived. Maria chose a sleek black gown that hugged her figure, paired with understated jewelry. Her hair was styled in soft waves, and her makeup was flawless. As she stepped out of her car and onto the red carpet, cameras flashed, capturing her serene smile. No one gave her a second glance beyond admiring her beauty.

Inside, the estate was a marvel of opulence. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the air buzzed with the hum of conversation and clinking glasses. Maria navigated the room effortlessly, exchanging pleasantries and laughter with other guests. She'd studied Chief Bakare's habits and knew he'd make his grand entrance halfway through the evening.

When he finally appeared, the room erupted in applause. Bakare was a tall, imposing man with a commanding presence. He moved through the crowd like a king, shaking hands and posing for photos. Maria watched him carefully, noting the subtle arrogance in his demeanor.

She waited for the perfect moment, biding her time as she sipped her champagne. When Bakare stepped away from the crowd to take a phone call, Maria followed discreetly. He entered a quiet study, the door left slightly ajar. Maria slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her.

"Excuse me, Chief," she said, her voice smooth and apologetic. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just wanted to thank you for hosting such a wonderful event."

Bakare turned, his expression softening as he took in her appearance. "Not at all. And who might you be?"

"Maria," she replied, extending her hand. "Maria Okafor."

He shook her hand, his grip firm. "A pleasure to meet you, Maria. Are you enjoying the evening?"

"Very much so," she said, her smile warm. "But I must confess, I was hoping for a moment to speak with you privately. Your work inspires me, and I'd love to learn from someone as accomplished as yourself."

Bakare's chest puffed slightly at the compliment. "Well, I'm always happy to mentor ambitious young people. What field are you in?"

Maria stepped closer, her eyes locking with his. "Real estate. But I'm more interested in your philanthropic endeavors. How do you balance such demanding responsibilities?"

Bakare chuckled. "It's all about prioritizing what matters most. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner sometime?"

Maria's smile widened. "I'd like that."

As they continued talking, Maria subtly retrieved a small vial from her clutch. It contained a potent sedative she'd obtained through discreet channels. Timing was crucial; she couldn't afford any missteps. When Bakare turned to pour them drinks, Maria seized the opportunity. A quick flick of her wrist, and the liquid was spiked.

"To make new connections," Bakare said, handing her a glass.

"To new beginnings," Maria replied, clinking her glass against his.

They drank, and Maria watched as the sedative took effect. Bakare's movements slowed, his speech slurring slightly as he sank into a nearby armchair. Within minutes, he was unconscious.

Maria moved swiftly, retrieving a syringe from her clutch. The substance inside was untraceable, designed to induce a heart attack. She administered the injection with precision, her hands steady. To anyone else, it would appear Bakare had simply succumbed to natural causes.

She adjusted his posture, ensuring there were no signs of struggle, and wiped down every surface she'd touched. Before leaving the room, she took a final glance at his lifeless form.

"Justice served," she murmured.

Maria rejoined the party, blending back into the crowd as if nothing had happened. She stayed long enough to avoid suspicion, engaging in light conversation and laughter. When the time felt right, she excused herself and left the estate.

As she drove home, Maria felt the familiar rush of satisfaction. Another predator taken down, another weight lifted from her soul. But she knew the road ahead would only get more treacherous. The more she succeeded, the closer she danced to the edge.

For now, though, she allowed herself a moment of triumph. Maria Okafor, the quiet observer, was untouchable or so she believed.