The house was a shield from the pitter-patter of the rain for its habitants. It was a white bungalow sitting on three plots of land. It was surrounded by a large yard, clipped green meadow with mixtures of pretty flowers. Encompassing the gazebo were short bushes of green leaves with a stone path that led to the house and a swimming pool. At the far end of the yard was another building used as a gym. Tall concreted fences protected the house from the views of outsiders. At the top of those walls were electric wires for protection against thieves who was the scale the fences.

The bungalow was large with five bedrooms, two living rooms, a kitchen, a study, and six toilets. At the front was an open garage. In it were five cars. A black Mercedes SUV, a blue Rolls Royce, a white Range Rover, a red Audi and a silver BMW. The front yard was mainly concrete with short bushes of yellow leaves beautifying the fences. The environment was bright with fluorescent lights that splashes over the spread, illuminating every part of it.

Thunder clapped in the sky. The quick strike of lightening brightened the yard then disappeared. The sky howled harder, showered rigorously as the long lines of rain splattered against wet grounds. Inside, she hurried, chopped the vegetables as she stole glances at the pot on fire. Her hands moved with skill, knife chopping and dicing vegetables into small sizes. The kitchen was bathed with the aroma of her delicacy. The whiff travelled into the living room where he sat on the couch, legs on it as he pressed his phone. There was nothing to watch since the dish's connection had been lost due to the weather.

She tried to make dinner, not ready for his wrath. He had always wanted dinner ready by eight. She had thirty more minutes and she needs to work with time. She opened the pot with a napkin in her hand, steam oozed out before giving her a clear view of what was cooking. She took the chopped vegetables and poured them over before covering the pot. While that cooked, she opened the oven to check the chicken in it.

Ahmad smiled at the message that popped up on his phone. More messages came along with it. He ignored others and tapped that particular one.

"I enjoyed today. Had a great day with you" It said.

"Same here. Loved the dish. Would want more of it"

There was a laughing emoji then a blushing emoji before "I knew you would. I miss you already"

He tried not to smile so as not to give away what he felt within. He felt the whirlpool of pleasure travel through him. "I do too. Loved the dress" A wink emoji. "Would love to see you in more of its kind. Wear red next time. It suits you better"

A picture came in as he typed his reply. He ceased typing to download the picture. Ahmad looked over his shoulder into the kitchen to check if his wife was coming. His eyes went huge at the picture he saw. He restricted himself from running his tongue over his lips like the image he stared at was a meal he could not wait to ravish. His mouth watered.

In his phone was a light skinned lady. Her body was wrapped in a red lingerie that barely conceal anything. Her boobs were almost pilling out of the material that held the two round fleshes up and tight. Her waist, paper thin, made her hips appear larger than they were. Her lower body was barely cladded in a G-string, fine butts out for him to see. In smooth alluring skin, she was a temptress. The kind Ahmad could not wait to take in between his teeth, kiss and lick to get its taste back on his tongue.

Ahmad's fingers twitched. He tapped on the picture to view it. Temptingly, he ran his finger through the outline of her butts. Ahmad wished it was real flesh. He wanted to clasp the flesh in his hand, squeeze and spank.

His body grew hot with need for her. He gawked at the picture. Shit! He needed released. He stole a glance at the kitchen where his wife made effort to make dinner ready then got to his feet, leaving his phone to go inside for a cold shower. He needed it badly.

Haseenah rushed out of the kitchen on shaking legs. She swiped the back of her hand over her damp forehead. Her eyes snapped to the wall clock on the wall. She blew air out of her dry lips. It was ten minutes to eight. She was quick. Her tired eyes scanned the living room. It was empty creating a deep frown on her face. Where has her husband gone to?

Under her eyes were swollen bags. She had barely slept the past few days. Everything had been harder. Ahmad was getting worse. God! She shivered. The day before, he had thrown a cup of hot tea at her hand. Haseenah's eyes fell on the blister on her hand. Tears welled in her eyes. He had not flinched even after she shouted. His eyes full of resentment, hatred and anger stared at her as he lashed her with angry words that bit deep into her. Words that were too inhuman for anyone to listen to.

She felt the sudden tiredness. Her body gave away to it. Mentally, emotionally and physically, she was tired. Exhaustion arrested her body. She sighed out, a tired sigh, before slumping into the sofa. A tear rolled down her face, her cheeks turning red without delay. She scooped her hair in her hand, pulled back the silky strands and released them. Black waves tumbled down her bare back.

Viscid fluid filled her nostrils as silent stream of colourless liquid rolled down her cheeks. She heard the faint ding but ignored it. It came again and again and she was forced to turn her head slightly to it. Her wet eyes fell on Ahmad's phone. There was message on it.

Haseenah had not wanted to read. She had not wanted to take a glance at the message but her eyes and mind betrayed her.

"Hot right?"

Line creased on her forehead. Her eyebrows, full and slightly tapered, drew together. Curiosity kicked in. The need to know what the little message meant came with full force, alluring her to pick the phone. Her hand trembled as she held the iPhone in her hand. Sweat broke free from her pores. God! She wiped away sweat that rolled down her neck. Ahmad must not see her touching his phone. The message was from a certain Sugar.

"Sugar" The name rolled out of her lips soft and almost inaudible.

She wanted to know why a certain Sugar will message her husband at that time of the night. Timorous hand tapped the message and it opened. In her chest, her heart hammered, each pound hard in her ears as her eyes fell on the most recent image. Cold chills saturated her bones until she felt them in her bone marrow.

Haseenah fell back into her seat, eyes never leaving the nude picture of this certain Sugar. Blood drained from her face, tremor coursing through her body. Every muscle grew weak, her head began to pound. She felt her heart rip into tiny pieces, the image of a nude woman on her husband's phone sent a sharp pain through her chest that felt like tiny shards of glass in her heart.

Why? The question rang in her head. Why does he have to get pleasure from another woman? Was she not good enough? Her shaking finger tapped the picture and it came into full view. She swiped right and another picture came. The lady had no clothes on in the other picture. Despite her shock, Haseenah gave up on checking the pictures and read their chat.

Ahmad had been seeing the lady for over three months. He had been taking care of her financially and recently, he got a house for this lady. The picture this sugar had just sent to Ahmad had not been the first. There were lots, most nude and lingerie cladded. Every muscle turned lax. Her chest tightened. The lady does not just send nude pictures to her husband but Ahmad had been having an affair with this lady for over three months. He sleeps with her!

Three months! Ahmad is cheating on her again! She thought he stopped when she found out about the first and consecutive ones during their first year of marriage. So he was hiding it all along! Tears formed in her eyes. She tapped the home key. His gallery became the next thing to check. In his gallery, she found more shocking things that made her feel faint. There were nude pictures from other women. She felt the bubbling rise of laughter in her throat but that laughter had not left her lips. There was one named, Jane. The entire pictures Jane sent to her husband were completely stark-naked. There were videos this women make. He even had a sex tape of each and every one of them.

What was bad in asking her to do this same thing he asks the women to do for him. If he wants her to pose nude for him, she would. If he wants videos, she would make them for him. Warm water threatened to slip from the brim of her eyes.

"Me kike da waya na? (What are you doing with my phone?)" Ahmad's dark voice came from behind.

On norms, she would have jumped at the angry voice full of malice and resentment but at that moment, that voice did nothing to her. It had not affected her. Haseenah raised her water-logged eyes to gaze at her husband's face. There was an angry scowl on his face. His eyes were red with anger and she felt the currents of fury that exuded from him.

Gazing at him gave her nothing but disgust. He might be an animal who beats her and abuse her in every way but at the moment, he disgusted her so much more than the poo of an animal. The resentment she felt towards him turned into ire. Anger swelled in her veins wanting to burst. Blood rushed to her head. Red coated her eyes.

"What? Me sa kike hallo na haka?" He growled stepping forward.

Ahmad saw the anger in her eyes. She looked at him as if she wanted to kill him. What the hell is she doing with his phone? What has she seen now? The Haseenah he knew had never stare at him like she would snap his head any minute later. Fear coursed through him. She must have seen something. He tried not to make his eyes go wide as realisation kicked in. Shit! Has she seen those pictures on his phone?

"Will you take your eyes off me? What are you doing with my phone?" he reached to snatch the phone from her but she yanked her hand back, her drenched eyes never leaving his face. Her action surprised him. His nose flared. "Are you alright?" He roared taking a step closer.

Usually, she would have recoiled but today, she stayed put. Is she alright? He thought, his heart beating fast. Something was wrong.

Haseenah got up. "Wane irin dadi na suke baka? (How much fun are they giving you?)" She raised his phone to his face.

His eyes fell on one of the pictures of Sugar.

"How dare you touch my phone? Who gave you the right?" His rage build up like a storm. It grew darker, more dangerous with the will to damage something especially the woman who stood in front of him.

"I have every right Ahmad" she laughed. "I am your wife! So this is why you do not allow me touch your phone?"

"Waya na ne dan haka zan iya duk abunda naga dama (It is my phone and I can do whatever I want to do with it)" There was no remorse in his eyes but there was bitterness in his voice. "You have no right to speak to me that way and question what I do and why I do them?"

"Answer me, Ahmad" She waved the phone.

There was something about her eyes, like her eyes sparkled with determination to do something evil despite how she wanted to cry. She was hurt, he could tell. There were lines of pain on her face but he does not care a bit about how she felt. She deserved everything he gave to her. She does not deserve love. A woman like Haseenah needed to be broken many times. His heart was acidic with hate for her.

"Yaushe har kiKennyi bakin da zaki mun Magana haka? (When did you learn how to open your mouth to talk back at me?)" Anger, hot sizzling surges, flowed through him. He walked closer and she had not flinched. He felt dread ease itself within him settling on his heart. His heart hammered. What the hell is wrong with the woman? She was not scared. He needed to do something.

"You are cheating on me Ahmad" She spelt out his deed

"Toh meye aciki? (So what's the big deal?) If....." he stopped. Ahmad was shaking. He loathed the woman who stood before him. He preferred the one who would cry and cringe to his loud angry voice. "Who gave you the right to touch my phone? You do not learn from your mistakes right?"

"I scare you right?" She stepped closer. "Na lura rashin damuwa na da fadan ka yana baka tsoro? (The fact that I am not flinching from your outburst scares you). In your head, you keep thinking. Me yasa take haka? (Why is she like this?)" She spoke every word one after the other without a rush. "Me ye danuwan ta? (What's wrong with her?). Na ga kana makarta, Ahmad. (You are trembling, Ahmad). Akwai tsoro tare da kai (I can see fear in your eyes)" Another step closer to her husband.

"Don't take a step closer. I am warning you Haseenah" He pointed a shaking finger at her.

"Me zaka yi? (What will you do?)" It was a dare. The kind of dare that propelled fright across Ahmad's body. "Beat me? Slap me? It is what you are good at" There was something mocking about her words.

"You crazy woman!" His hand went up and came forward to hit her.

"Don't you dare lay that hand on me!" she shouted. His hand froze in the midway. "Don't you dare hit me, Ahmad!" There was fire in her eyes, the kind of fire that would smoulder everything that comes his ways.

But Ahmad was the type not to let a mere woman control him. He disliked it with every fibre of his body. The confidence from his wife heightened his dander. His head buzzed and all he wanted to do was charge at her.

"What will you do? You have gone crazy and I know what to do" He began to unbuckle his belt.

"I am warning you Ahmad. Don't lay a hand on me tonight. You might end up six feet below the ground" Her words had not stopped him from loosening his belt. In his shaking hands, he gripped the whip hard.

"You need to be taught a lesson"

The first hit had not been painful against her skin. It was like she felt immune to it even though it left a red mark on the bare skin. When the second lash hit her back, she had not screamed, cried or flinched neither had she ran away. She stayed. His anger rose. It kept piling and he struck her with every ire he felt.

He yanked her by her hair in a very rough and unmerciful way that made her stagger. The best in him had been unleashed and he was ready to show her how wicked he can be. Ahmad pushed her into the seat, and punched her. Every smack was painful but none got into her. As he inflicted pain on her, he let out growls like that of an angry dog. Her refusal to cry made things worse.

Despite the blood that ran down the side of her lips and a swollen eye, red scars from his whip and red marks from his slaps, Haseenah did not let out a little cry. It was as if she was lifeless. Ahmad wanted her to cry, wail and plead like she always do but today, she did none and it sent him to the edge. Not satisfied, he ripped apart the night dress she had on and took out his anger on her sexually. No cry neither a word had left her lips as he carried out his evil act. She was resistant to everything. When he was done, he rose from her, panting.

"Shagiya! Wawiya! Karuwa!" He cursed as he pulled up his zip.

Notwithstanding, Haseenah got to her feet and left for the bedroom to nurse her injuries and pains like she had always done. The difference this time was she had not cried because deep inside he had killed something in her.

-----

The windows were opened. A whirlpool of icy air from the night voyaged into the room, past the swinging curtains. The night was cold, the earth still wet from the rain that had stopped falling almost an hour ago. Behind the clouds which were still merged into one another was the half globe of silvery light. The clouds created a blur over the moon.

The room was large, exquisite and modern. The air was bathed with the pleasing appealing tinge of a woman. Lights from a lamp on the nightstand flickered faintly across the room. She was asleep on the bed. Her hair was a dishevelled drape over the pillow and her shoulder. Her dry lips were slightly parted, little dribble of saliva trickled down the side of her mouth.

Bit by bit, the door knob turned a bit. A gentle click and push, the door opened. A tall dark figure slipped in, slow and noiselessly. Her intruder's eyes scanned the room until they fell on the pretty form on the big bed. At a snail's pace, a small smile lifted the lips of the intruder before he closed the door without a sound. Tender inaudible steps, the intruder headed further into the expanse, the little curve of lips growing broader. He turned over meet her.

Deep dark eyes glimmered with affection, a tender gaze on her form. He sat down on the little space next to her as he kept his bag on the carpet. His reasons for coming home late was work and heavy traffic. He could not give her a call because his phone's battery died. He was so engrossed in work to charge it.

A heavy current of wind rushed into the room, slapping against his skin causing him to shiver. He looked back at her. She had no cover over her body. The silky nightie she had on can't provide her the amount of warmth she needs. He leaned closer to have a better look of her face. He felt the quick flow of laughter bubble up his throat. To prevent his laughter from coming out, he pressed his lips together. She drools. Who will ever believe that the composed, sophisticated woman drools?

His wife was no sleeping beauty. Her hair was a tangle mess, a lock on her face almost inside her gapped lips. A drool ran down the side of her lips with a little snore. He stood up with a little laugh unaware of the little frown of distress that suddenly grace her face. He walked to her dressing table, opening his bag to bring out the present he got for her.

As promised, he got her a new phone, an iPhone X. He hopes she appreciate it. He kept the package on her dressing table, glanced back at her then ambled to the closet. Just as he entered the walk in closet, she jerked in bed with a little whimper, her hands closing which he was obvious to.

She was having a dream. He was there in the dark with his sinister smile, an evil glimmer in his eyes. He laughed while she cringed away with face lined with fear. This time, she was trapped in a corner, shivering like a mouse afraid of an attack from an approaching cat. Her eyes, laced with fright, gave him a silent plead.

Her wavering eyes, shimmering with tears, gazed behind his intimidating posture. There was no one to call for help. She trembled like a tree in the gusting breeze of winter. She wanted to scream, wanted to shout out for help. She turned back her eyes to the freak who called himself human. There was a silent warning in his eyes as if telling her not to say a word.

"You know what I want, Sweetheart. I ask for nothing more and you shall be free" His words were full of deceit. She won't be free. She can never be free. She was trapped, imprisoned in the cage of her past with chains holding her down.

A silent gasp. A quick alarming jolt from bed. Lola eyes flew open. Her heart ran a marathon in her chest, every pound harder and louder. She was shaking, eyes perusing the silent room. When her surrounding became familiar, she exhaled, falling back on the head board. Her dry bottom lip quivered, tears rushing to the brim of her eyes. She bit her lower lips, trying to hold back the pool that willed to flow down. Her body was shackled with fear.