The true nature of life was often confused with aspiration. While it was of utmost importance, a will wasn't able to describe life fully. The correct word should be "tempest." Life should be described as a violent wind that swept when least expected and took everything with it.
Adam wasn't sure if he had lived a life, and he wasn't sure if he was living one now. All he had ever seen was storm after storm after storm, until it was an unending series of storms. It first blew away his roof, then his walls, and finally his core.
"One time, that's all. One time, that's all," he repeated to himself, the mantra that kept him going. Even though it was a lie, it still kept him going. There would never be just one time. No one else ever was done with life until death came, and he wasn't planning on meeting death. Not yet, he wasn't in a hurry to go to his hell.
Hell, that's where people like him are going to end. He had heard of it, a place of unending pain, a place where one gets punished for all the bad things he had done while living, a place of eternal suffering and horrors.
"Oooh! You're such a bad, bad boy," he scolded himself, his voice echoing. The sound repeatedly hit his ear.
He rolled over the bed he was lying on, and the cold tiled floor sent chills all over his body as he stood up. He looked around the room for the first time, it was too spacious to be his. Pink sparkles adorned all over the place. He stumbled towards what he assumed to be the toilet, his head banging on its own.
"Shit," he swore as the door creaked loudly. He walked in, and his eyes landed on his reflection in the mirror.
Large, brown eyes, empty and hollow, looked at him accusingly.
"Don't...!" He stumbled to the sink, his heart beating faster, for a reason unknown.
The contents of his stomach came out with such force that he was sure his heart would fall out as well.
Adam wasn't a morning person, he was the sort that slept until the whole morning was gone. In his routine, morning was for sleep, and night was for getting things done.
Talking of which, last night had been a blast that he couldn't remember all the details of what had transpired.
It started early, with G-J and Ruth. These two are something else. He remembered the time they walked into Vanity Club, the clients they made, the drinks, and the rest was hazy. Alcohol, drugs, sex—lots of sex.
The memories slowly trickled back into his consciousness, Adam felt a pang of guilt mixed with exhilaration. He knew he shouldn't indulge in such reckless behavior, but there was a thrill in the chaos, a temporary escape from the monotony of his mundane existence.
Yet, amidst the haze of intoxication, there was a nagging feeling of unease. He couldn't shake the sense that something had gone terribly wrong, that perhaps he had crossed a line he couldn't return from.
"Listen to yourself," he grimaced, his accusing eyes still looking back at him through the mirror. He had crossed the line long ago, so long that it slowly faded away from his mind when it started. These wild nights were what defined him now.
Waking up with a stranger had become his daily routine. Each morning, he would awaken to the sight of unfamiliar faces, tangled limbs, and the faint scent of regret lingering in the air. Yet, despite the temporary comfort, Adam couldn't shake the emptiness gnawing at his soul.
He washed his face, trying to wake himself fully, but the intoxicants reigned. He couldn't open his eyes fully, everything looked hazy.
He stumbled back to the room and tried to locate his clothes. His shirt was at the edge of the bed where he probably threw it last night. His pants—now that's the adventure. He stumbled around, looking for them through the dimly lit room. His phone blared from across the room, he winced and stumbled towards it, his pants sprawled on the floor. He picked them up and blindly located his phone from one of the pockets.
"Hi," he answered.
"Our session started an hour ago," a high pitched voice assaulted his ears.
"Who are you?" he asked, before he turned the phone screen and the caller ID stated "5," just that. She must be a client with an attitude. Adam saved his clients' contacts as numbers for easy identification.
"I paid fully, and every fucking second counts."
"If you don't like my service, fuck off," he hung up on her. He knew her so well, she would track him down soon, and he would have to spend the whole day with her, and if he wasn't that lucky, the night as well. The only thing likable about her is her money, she has a lot, and she pays him well for his services.
"Hi, handsome," another high-pitched voice startled him. He turned around, and there lay on the bed the night before.
"You're leaving so soon?" she smiled broadly, her eyes still hungry and sinful.
Adam ignored her, pulled on his pants, and wore them. He pocketed his phone, checked his wallet, keys, and he was ready to leave.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" the woman lying on the bed stopped him when he reached for the doorknob. Turning, his eyes landed on a gun pointed at him.
"Give me that," he snatched it from her and left. In the hallway, his phone rang once again. This time he looked at the screen, recognizing the caller before answering.
"Big Daddy," G-J's voice hit his eardrum, loud and crazy. He winced as his head pounded.
"Come on, stop shouting!" he muttered, taking the phone away from his ear.
"Ruth got locked up," G-J said, his voice still laced with excitement.
"Drugs?" Adam asked.
"Nope! I tried, but she got away," G-J mumbled with pride.
"What is it then?"
"Pickpocketing a police officer."
Adam sighed, rubbing his temples as he processed the information. Ruth's penchant for trouble was nothing new, but pickpocketing a police officer was a whole new level of recklessness.
"Where is she now?" Adam asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"She's at the station, but I don't know for how long. They're probably gonna throw the book at her this time," G-J replied, his tone more subdued now.
Adam cursed under his breath. He knew he had to intervene before things spiraled out of control. Despite their tumultuous relationship, Ruth was like family to him, and he couldn't just abandon her in her time of need.
"Alright, I'll take care of it," Adam said.
G-J and Ruth had this thing going between them, who would get the least arrests this year. So far, it's Ruth. G-J has been arrested a couple of times for drugs, but he always bribes himself out. Ruth has been very careful this year. She had one arrest for vandalizing her ex's new girlfriend's car, but Adam had contacts, and she walked free. Pickpocketing of a police officer was a foolish move. She could have easily targeted the wealthy Alhajis who frequent the clubs at night, often inebriated and adorned with expensive accessories. Targeting officers is far more perilous—they're always alert and vigilant.
The harsh sunlight assaulted Adam's eyes as soon as he stepped onto the street. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust. Standing there, he pondered where he had parked his car. He reached into his pocket, searching for his keys, and found them. Yet, he couldn't recall the location of his car.
Adam hailed a cab and climbed in, deciding to head home, take a bath, and then bail out Ruth.
"Big Daddy!" the receptionist behind the desk called out as soon as Adam entered the hotel. She grabbed a card from the counter and hurried over to him.
"Big party tonight! Zeze just dropped off the invitation card for you, and a fancy suit is on its way," she said, her face beaming with excitement.
"I'm fully booked," Adam lied, eager to avoid the hassle. While big parties were enjoyable and lucrative, they also demanded too much.
"Big Daddy, you can't refuse. Madame arrived last night and she's furious about Felix's party. Plus, Mrs. Yusuf Apagu called earlier, filing a complaint against you."
Adam sighed inwardly, the weight of Madame's displeasure and Mrs. Yusuf Apagu's complaint adding to the burden of his already chaotic day. He knew he couldn't afford to ignore their concerns, especially if he wanted to maintain his reputation and business relationships.
"Fine," he relented, accepting the invitation card from the receptionist. "But just for a little while. I have other matters to attend to."
The receptionist's smile widened, her relief palpable as she handed him the card. "Thank you, Big Daddy. You won't regret it, I promise."
With a resigned nod, Adam made his way to his room, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to navigate the upcoming party while juggling his responsibilities to Ruth and his other clients.
He stepped into the elevator, he couldn't shake the feeling that the day was far from over—that the storm of challenges swirling around him was only just beginning to gather strength. But Adam was no stranger to adversity, and with a steely resolve, he braced himself for whatever chaos the night may bring.
Adam stood watching as the elevator reached his floor, opening and closing. Then, he pressed the button to go all the way up to the penthouse. He hadn't seen Madame for two months now.
He knew where she kept her spare key, retrieving it from underneath the flower pot, and unlocked the penthouse. The spacious place sparkled, meticulously cleaned. Madame owned the hotel and all the other illicit lucrative business ventures. She hired people like him, G-J, and Ruth to do all her bidding. She owned not only the hotel but also nightclubs, guesthouses, bathhouses, and a recently commissioned hotel.
"Big Daddy," G-J's voice startled him. Lying sprawled on the sofa was G-J, his small frame almost engulfed by its luxurious whiteness.
"You shouldn't be here!" Adam stated, making his way to the bar. He grabbed a wine bottle, selected two glasses, and headed towards Madame's bedroom.
Madame's bedroom was adorned in various shades of black, from the sleek furniture to the black and white bedsheets. She stood there, just preparing for a bath, a black towel draped around her body.
"Boy, are you even in town? Abuja seems too big for the two of us to bump into each other," she said, walking around the bed and enveloping him in her warm embrace, her touch penetrating through his shirt.
Despite the warmth of Madame's embrace, Adam couldn't shake off the unease that gnawed at him from within. He felt like a pawn in a game whose rules he barely understood, caught between the allure of Madame's world and the chaos of his own existence.
"I've been around," Adam replied nonchalantly, trying to mask his inner turmoil with a casual demeanor.
Madame's piercing gaze bore into him, as if she could see through the facade he had carefully constructed. She was a shrewd woman, one who commanded respect and instilled fear in equal measure.
"Have you now?" she replied, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Well, it seems you've stumbled upon something interesting, my dear Big Daddy."
Adam tensed slightly at her words, a flicker of apprehension coursing through him. He knew better than to underestimate Madame's keen intuition and astute perception.
"I was just passing by," Adam said dismissively, attempting to downplay the significance of his presence.
Madame arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Passing by, you say? In my penthouse, no less. Tell me, Adam, what brings you here? Surely, it's more than just a chance encounter."
Adam hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He had always been cautious around Madame, knowing that she held the power to both elevate him to new heights and destroy him with a mere flick of her wrist.
"You must've heard about Ruth's situation," Adam admitted reluctantly, deciding to test the waters cautiously. "I came to see if there's anything you can do to help."
Madame's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of compassion shining through her steely exterior. "Ah, Ruth," she mused, her tone thoughtful. "Always getting herself into trouble. But perhaps this time, she's bitten off more than she can chew."
Adam swallowed hard, the intent of Madame's words sinking in. He knew that Ruth's predicament was far from trivial, and the consequences of her actions could have far-reaching repercussions for them all.
"Is there anything you can do?" Adam asked, his voice tinged with a sense of resignation. He knew that once Madame had set her sights on something, there was no turning back.
Madame regarded him for a long moment, her gaze penetrating and inscrutable. Then, with a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips, she nodded.
"Indeed, there is," she said cryptically, her voice sending a shiver down Adam's spine. "But first, let's have some wine and talk, I have a feeling that things are about to get very interesting indeed."
With that said, she walked into the bathroom. Adam stood there, contemplating what to do.
"Big Daddy, don't keep Madame waiting," G-J once again startled him. Turning, he found G-J resting at the door frame. He gave Adam a weird look and walked away.
Adam followed Madame into her bathroom. She was already soaking in the bathtub.
"Join me, Big Daddy," she said in a deep, low voice. He shook his head sideways and walked towards the dressing mirror. He opened the bottle of wine and poured it into one glass, handing it to her. He then started drinking directly from the bottle.
Madame luxuriated in the warm water, her eyes half-closed as she savored the moment of relaxation. Adam watched her reflection in the mirror, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
He took another swig from the bottle, the sharp tang of the wine did little to numb the unease that gnawed at him from within. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, playing a dangerous game with Madame that could have dire consequences.
"Tell me, Adam," Madame's voice broke the silence, her tone softer now, almost conspiratorial. "What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror?"
Adam's gaze flickered to meet hers in the reflection, his expression guarded. "What do you mean?"
Madame smiled enigmatically, her eyes gleaming with a knowing glint. "I mean, what do you see beyond the surface? Beyond the facade you present to the world?"
Adam hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Madame had a way of peeling back the layers, of seeing through the masks they all wore. He knew he couldn't afford to be too candid, too vulnerable in her presence.
"I see a man who's trying to make his way in the world," Adam replied evasively, his tone measured. "A man who's seen his fair share of ups and downs, but who's determined to carve out his own path."
Madame regarded him thoughtfully, her gaze probing. "And do you ever wonder if there's more to life than just survival? More than just chasing after the next thrill, the next paycheck?"
Adam's heart skipped a beat at her words, a flicker of uncertainty flashing across his features. He had never stopped to ponder such questions, too caught up in the whirlwind of his own existence to contemplate the deeper meaning of it all.
"Sometimes," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But then reality sets in, and I'm reminded that life is about making the best of what you have, no matter the cost."
Madame nodded in understanding, a hint of sadness clouding her features. "Yes, reality can be a harsh mistress indeed. But perhaps there's more to life than meets the eye. Perhaps there's a world beyond the confines of our own making, waiting to be discovered."
Adam watched her, his mind swirling with a tumult of conflicting emotions. He knew he should tread carefully, that Madame's words held more weight than he cared to admit. But deep down, a part of him yearned for something more, something beyond the narrow confines of his existence.
Adam and Madame shared a long history, one fraught with trials and transformations. He remembered when she was merely a trophy wife, enduring abuse day and night. He recalled her defiance, the moment she struck back, sending her husband to his grave and his hell. He knew of the years she spent behind bars, the sacrifices she made to provide for her children. From an innocent girl to the formidable woman she had become, Madame's journey mirrored the unpredictable life as a Tempest.
"You are quite intriguing, Big Daddy. Your silence speaks volumes. I admire your restraint. You listen and show concern, even when it's for someone as reckless as to get locked up for pickpocketing," she murmured, fixing him with an intense gaze that often unsettled him.
Adam felt torn. He had a schedule to keep—bathing, eating, searching for Ruth, and attending Mrs. Apagu's session. Being with Madame only complicated matters, every second with her made life harder for him.
"I have to care, you tought me that, one must care enough to lessen his guilt, his hell" he turned around his eyes locked with her.
"I'll see what I can do," she said finally, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I can't make any promises."
Adam nodded understandingly, her gaze softening. "Thank you, Madame."
"I see, Zeze had given you the invitation card," she pointed to the card he had roughly shoved into his pocket earlier.
"Yeah."
"Good! Don't mess this up. I didn't forget about Felix's exhibit. I never refund anyone in my life, but you made me do it. This party is exclusive and a big deal for me. You have to show up earlier. Big guests—the Minister of Women Affairs and the Ambassador of France—are the guests of honor. Make it memorable." She explained. "If it goes well, Ruth walks free tomorrow morning. If not, I'll make it harder for the both of you," she threatened.
He gave her an odd look and took a sip from the bottle.
"As you wish." He refilled her glass and left. One thing he was sure of: the woman kept her promises. All he needed to do was make someone's night memorable, or at least that's what she thought. Well, Adam sometimes made his clients' nights disappear from their heads.
"G-J, where is my car?" Adam found the man still hanging around at Madame's penthouse.
"The red velvet is with Carlos, and the van is somewhere in the hotel park," G-J mumbled dismissively.
"Look me in the eye. Do I look stupid? Come on, where's my car, the Mercedes C300 4Matic?" Frustration simmered beneath Adam's controlled exterior as he confronted G-J. The thought of his prized car being mishandled or misplaced only added to his growing unease.
G-J's nonchalant attitude grated on Adam's nerves, fueling his impatience. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
"G-J, this is not a joke," Adam insisted, his voice tinged with irritation. "I need to know where my car is. Now."
G-J shifted uncomfortably under Adam's piercing gaze, realizing the gravity of the situation. With a reluctant sigh, he finally relented.
"Okay, okay. I'll find out for you," G-J muttered, his demeanor suddenly more serious.
Adam watched as G-J hurriedly made a call, his impatience mounting with each passing second. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.
G-J continued his conversation, Adam's mind raced with possibilities as waited for G-J to provide him with the answers he so desperately sought.
After what felt like an eternity, G-J finally hung up the phone and turned to Adam with a sheepish expression.
"Sorry, Big Daddy. It seems there was a mix-up with the keys. Carlos took the wrong set," G-J admitted, his tone apologetic.
Adam resisted the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. He knew he couldn't afford to dwell on the mistake now. Ruth's freedom depended on him, and he needed to stay focused.
"Fine, go get it," Adam said tersely, already mentally calculating the time it would take to retrieve his car and make it to Madame's party.
He tossed the keys with him at G-J and he headed out of the penthouse.
Adam walked into his place, a single room among the sea of rooms in Madame's hotel. It was tiny and not well-furnished, with only a bed, a chair, and a wardrobe for his clothes. He walked straight towards the bathroom, peeling off his clothes.
The bathroom was small, with barely enough space to turn around. Adam turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it reached the perfect temperature. He stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over his tired body. The water washed away the grime and tension of the day, Adam's mind raced with thoughts of the night ahead. Madame's party loomed on the horizon, a high-stakes event that could mean freedom for Ruth and perhaps even a reprieve from Madame's watchful eye for Adam himself.
"Do you think you can get away from me?" A masculine voice assaulted his ears before heavy hands clamped around his neck. A thin wire tightened around his throat, constricting his airway. He struggled desperately, but his efforts were futile. Darkness encroached on his vision, and soon his head collided with the sink, rendering him unconscious.