Mr. Williams had everything except the one thing he truly wanted. A son, five daughters, billions in the bank, properties scattered across Nigeria, but no male child to carry his name. And now, with death knocking at his door, that empty space in his heart felt like a wound that would not heal. The sickness came fast.

 One month he was walking into boardrooms, signing deals, making decisions. The next month, his hands shook when he tried to hold a pen. His legs could barely carry him from the bedroom to the bathroom. The doctors said it was cancer, aggressive, and unforgiving. They gave him six months if he was lucky. His wife, Deborah, played the role of concerned spouse perfectly.

She called the best doctors, arranged hospital appointments, held his hand in public. But behind closed doors, her eyes were cold and calculating. She had been waiting for this moment for years. When Mr. Williams became too weak to do things by himself. Deborah made a decision. She needed someone to take care of him at home.

 Someone to feed him, bathe him, watch him slowly die. But she was smart about it. She did not hire an experienced nurse or a professional caregiver. That would be too risky. Those people knew too much, asked too many questions. Instead, she went looking for someone desperate and clueless.

 That was how Mia entered their lives. Mia was 22 years old and fresh from Ajagunal, one of the poorest areas in Lagos. She had been in the city for less than a year, living in a single room with her mother and two younger brothers. Her mother sold oranges by the roadside, barely making enough to feed them.

 When Mia heard about a job opening as a housemmaid for a rich family, she jumped at it without thinking twice. She had no training, no experience. She had never worked in a big house before, never served wealthy people, never even used some of the fancy appliances she saw in the Williams mansion.

 But she needed the money desperately, so she lied during the interview and said she had worked for two other families before. Deborah saw right through the lies, and that was exactly what she wanted. “You will take care of my husband,” Deborah told Mia on her first day, her voice sweet, but her eyes hard. “He is very sick. He cannot walk well. He cannot eat by himself. You will do everything for him. Do you understand?” “Yes, ma.”  Mia answered, grateful just to have a job.

 “If anything happens to him,” Deborah continued, leaning closer. “If he falls, if he chokes, if anything goes wrong, you will be responsible. Do you understand that, too?” Mia nodded, but a chill ran down her spine. She did not understand why Mrs. Williams was saying this, but she pushed the fear away.

 She needed this job. Her family was counting on her. The Williams mansion was massive. 10 bedrooms, a swimming pool, marble floors that Mia was terrified of walking on because she might slip and break something. The first time she saw Mr. Williams, he was sitting in his bedroom, staring out the window. He looked tired, old, defeated.

 “Good morning, sir.” Mia greeted him softly. He turned to look at her with dull eyes. “Who are you?” “My name is Mia, sir. I am here to help you.” He nodded slowly and turned back to the window.

That first day, Mia learned just how sick he really was. His hands trembled when she tried to feed him. He could barely stand without support. Sometimes he would just sit and stare at nothing for hours.

 But as days turned into weeks, something changed. Mr. Williams started talking to her. At first, it was just small things. “The food is good today.” Or, “Thank you, Mia.” But then the conversations grew longer. He told her about his businesses, his life, his regrets. And Mia listened because that was all she knew how to do.

She did not judge him. She did not look at him and see Naira signs like everyone else did. She just saw a sick man who needed kindness. And for Mr. Williams, that was everything.

One evening, after Mia had finished feeding him dinner, he grabbed her hand gently. “Mia,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.  “Do you know what it feels like to have everything and nothing at the same time?” She shook her head, confused. “I have five daughters,” he continued, his eyes distant. “Olivia, Emma, Amelia, Charlotte, and Sophia. All girls, beautiful girls, but I have no son.” Mia did not know what to say, so she stayed quiet. “My father told me before he died that a man without a son is not complete. I did not understand it then, but I do now.”

 “When I die, everything I built will scatter. My name will disappear. There will be no one to carry on what I started.” Tears filled his eyes and Mia felt her own heartbreaking for him. “The doctors said, ‘I have a few months left.’” Mr. Williams whispered, “Maybe less. I have one wish, Mia. Just one.  I want a son before I die.”

That was when Mia understood. Her breath caught in her throat. She pulled her hand away slowly. “Sir, I…” “I know it sounds crazy,” he interrupted quickly. “I know I am asking for something impossible, but you are the only person in this house who treats me like a human being. Everyone else is just waiting for me to die.”

Mia stood up, her mind racing.  She did not know what to say, what to think. This man was offering her something that could change her life or destroy it completely.

But before we go further, you need to understand something. You need to know about the people surrounding Mr. Williams. The family that was supposed to love him but only loved his money. Deborah Williams was a snake in designer clothes.

 For 25 years, she had played the perfect wife while counting down the days until she could take everything. She had given him five daughters, not out of love, but because each child gave her more access to his accounts, more power in his companies. Now that he was dying, her plan was finally coming together.

 Hire a clueless maid, wait for something to go wrong, and blame the poor girl when her husband took his last breath. The police would believe her story. After all, who questions a grieving widow?

Then there were the daughters, each one more selfish than the last. Olivia, the first daughter at 28, had a boyfriend named Kenneth who whispered poison in her ear every night.

 “When is the old man going to die?” Kenneth would ask over the phone. “We have been planning this for 2 years. Once he is gone, we take the money and move to Cyprus. I already found the perfect mansion.” Olivia always said yes, pushing away the tiny voice in her head that said what they were doing was wrong.

Emma, 26, lived for Instagram likes and blog mentions.  She spent hours taking photos, posting stories, building a following. In her twisted mind, her father’s death would make her famous. Headlines would read, “Billionaire’s daughter inherits fortune.” Every gossip blog in Nigeria would write about her. That was the dream she held on to.

Amelia, 24, was her mother’s puppet. Whatever Deborah said, Amelia agreed. Whatever Deborah planned, Amelia helped execute. She had learned that loyalty to power was more valuable than loyalty to blood. Her father meant nothing to her. Only winning mattered.

Charlotte, 22, had her own ridiculous vision. She wanted to destroy her father’s real estate empire and replace it with a wig and nail business.  She actually believed this was genius, that she would be the next big entrepreneur. She could not wait to get her hands on the company so she could burn it down and build her nonsense empire.

And finally, Sophia, 20 years old and dying herself. Stage 4 cancer had stolen her youth, her strength, her future.

 But even as death crept closer, she wanted the money. She convinced herself that with enough cash, she could buy some miracle medicine from overseas, something that would save her, even though the doctors said it was impossible. Hope and delusion had become the same thing in her mind.

Not one of them loved him. Not really. They were all just waiting.

 And now here was Mia, a poor girl from Aagonal, standing in the middle of a mansion full of vultures, being asked by a dying billionaire to give him the one thing his money could not buy, a son.

Mia tried her best, but Chief Williams could see it. The girl had no idea what she was doing. The first week was a disaster.

 She burned his breakfast twice. She gave him his medication at the wrong times. When she tried to help him walk to the bathroom, they both nearly fell because she did not know how to support his weight properly. Any other employer would have fired her on the spot.

But there was something about Mia that kept Chief Williams from complaining.  She put her heart into everything, even when she failed. When she burned the eggs, she apologized so sincerely that he could not stay angry. When she mixed up his pills, she cried and promised to write everything down so it would never happen again. And she did.

She created a notebook with times and dosages, checking it every few hours like her life depended on it.  She was decent, respectful. She never complained even when the work piled up and her hands were raw from cleaning. She never nagged about the long hours or asked for days off. She just worked silently and tirelessly trying to prove she deserved to be there.

Slowly, Chief Williams began to depend on her.  Not because she was good at her job, but because she cared. And in a house full of people who wanted him dead, that small act of caring meant everything.

The more time he spent with Mia, the more he looked forward to seeing her. When she walked into his room in the morning, his day felt a little brighter.  When she sat beside him to feed him lunch, he would ask her questions just to keep her there longer. For the first time in years, someone in his house made him feel human, but his daughters noticed, and they did not like it one bit.

Olivia was the first to start trouble. One afternoon, while Mia was cleaning Chief Williams room, Olivia called out from the living room, “Mia, come here.” Mia rushed downstairs, worried something was wrong. “Yes, Ma.” Olivia was stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through her phone. She did not even look up. “Get me the remote.” Mia glanced around and saw the remote sitting on the armrest just inches from Olivia’s hand. “Ma, it is right there beside you.” “I said, ‘Get it for me.’” Olivia’s voice was sharp now, daring Mia to refuse.

 Mia swallowed her pride and picked up the remote, handing it over. Olivia snatched it without a thank you and waved her away like she was swatting a fly. This became a pattern. Olivia would call Mia for the smallest, most ridiculous tasks. Close the curtain. Bring a glass of water. Even though the kitchen was five steps away, adjust the air conditioner remote.

Once while Olivia was on the phone with Kenneth, she snapped her fingers at Mia and pointed at the door. Mia stood there confused until Olivia covered the phone and hissed, “Closed the door. Are you blind?” Mia closed the door quietly and walked away, her chest tight with humiliation.

Emma was worse.  She spent most of her day creating content for Instagram and Tik Tok, dancing in front of ring lights and changing outfits every hour. Whenever Mia passed by her room, Emma would call her in. “Mia, set up my lights. They are not bright enough.” Mia would adjust the lights, moving them exactly where Emma pointed. But 5 minutes later, Emma would call her back. “This is still wrong. Do it again.”

And Mia would do it again. Sometimes Emma would make her set up the same lights three or four times just because she could. Once Emma asked Mia to clean the ring lights even though they were spotless. Mia wiped them down carefully, but Emma inspected them and said, “You missed a spot. Clean them again.”

Mia cleaned them again without saying a word. Amelia played a different game. She would send Mia to her mother’s room with instructions. “Go make tea for my mother. Two spoons of sugar, not too hot.” Mia would prepare the tea perfectly and bring it upstairs, only for Deborah to take one sip and slap the cup out of her hand. “This is too sweet.”

 “Are you trying to kill me?” The hot tea would splash on the floor, sometimes on Mia’s legs, and Deborah would stand there glaring at her like she had committed a crime. Amelia would watch from the doorway with a satisfied smirk, enjoying the show. “Clean it up,” Deborah would say coldly. “And do not let it happen again.”

Mia would get on her knees and clean the mess, biting her lip to keep from crying. She knew the tea was made exactly how Deborah asked. She knew this was just cruelty for the sake of cruelty, but she could not say anything. She needed this job.

Charlotte, the second to last born, was the crulest of them all.  She never missed a chance to insult Mia, especially in front of her father. One evening, while Mia was helping Chief Williams eat dinner, Charlotte walked into the room and wrinkled her nose like she smelled something bad. “Daddy, why is this girl always hovering around you?” Charlotte said loud enough for everyone to hear. “She is probably a gold digger.”

 “You know these aigonal girls always looking for rich men to trap.” Chief Williams frowned. “Charlotte, that is enough.” “I am just saying what everyone is thinking.” Charlotte continued, examining her nails. “She is too friendly with you, Daddy. It is suspicious.”

Mia kept her eyes down, her hands shaking as she spooned soup into Chief Williams mouth. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Charlotte she was wrong, but the words stuck in her throat.  “Leave us,” Chief Williams said quietly to Charlotte. Charlotte shrugged and left, but the damage was done.

After that, she made sure to call me her names whenever she got the chance. Gold digger, runs girl, husband snatcher. Each word was a knife, cutting deeper every time.

And then there was Sophia, the youngest. She stayed in her room most days, too weak to move around much. The cancer was eating her alive, and everyone knew it.

But even in her suffering, Sophia found ways to make Mia’s life harder. Sophia vomited almost every day. The chemotherapy made her sick and she could barely keep food down. Every time it happened, she would call for Mia, not the other maids who did nothing all day. Just Mia. “Mia. I threw up again.”

 “Clean it.” Mia would come in with a bucket and towels, cleaning up the mess without complaint. The smell made her want to gag, but she held her breath and worked quickly. Sophia never said thank you. She would just lie back on her bed and close her eyes, waiting for Mia to finish.

It was like the other maids in the house did not exist.  Everything fell on Mia, cooking, cleaning, taking care of Chief Williams, running errands for the daughters. She worked from 5:00 in the morning until midnight, barely stopping to eat. Her body achd constantly. Her hands were rough and cracked from all the washing and scrubbing. She had not been home to see her mother in 3 weeks.

 But she could not quit. Her family needed the money too badly. After finishing all the chores one night, Mia finally had time to take a bath. The hot water felt like heaven on her tired muscles. She washed quickly, not wanting to waste time, and put on a simple night gown.

 Her hair was still damp when she knocked on Chief Williams door to give him his night medication. “Come in,” his weak voice called out. She entered with a glass of water and his pills on a tray. Chief Williams was sitting up in bed, staring at her with an expression she could not quite read. “Your medication, sir,” Mia said softly, handing him the pills. He took them slowly, his hands shaking.

 After he swallowed, he did not let go of the glass. Instead, he looked at Mia for a long moment. “Sit down,” he said, patting the edge of the bed. Mia hesitated. “Sir, I should go. It is late, Anne.” “Please, just for a few minutes.” She sat down carefully, keeping a respectful distance.

 “How did you end up here, Mia?” Chief Williams asked suddenly “in my house working like this. You are young. You should be in school living your life.” Mia’s throat tightened. Nobody had asked her that question before. “I am still in school, sir. University, but I had to take a break. My family cannot afford the fees anymore. My mother sells oranges at the roadside, but it is never enough. My brothers dropped out of secondary school because we could not pay.”

 “This job is the only way I can help them.” Chief Williams nodded slowly, his eyes sad. “So, you are doing all of this for them. For your family?” “Yes, sir.” Mia’s voice was barely a whisper. “I know I am not the best maid. I know I make mistakes, but I am trying my best. I just need this job. Please do not fire me.” “Fire you.” Chief Williams shook his head.

 “Mia, you are the only person in this house who treats me like I matter. Do you know that? My own wife cannot stand to be in the same room with me for more than 5 minutes. My daughters look at me like I am already dead. But you you care.” Mia did not know what to say. Tears pricricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. “You are beautiful, Mia.”

 Chief William said softly. “Not just on the outside. Your heart is beautiful. And I am sorry my family treats you the way they do.” Mia looked down at her hands, her heart pounding. She could feel something shifting in the air between them. something dangerous and confusing.

 Chief Williams was a dying man with billions and five daughters who hated him. Mia was a poor girl from the slums just trying to survive. They should not have anything in common. But somehow in that quiet room with moonlight coming through the window, they understood each other in a way nobody else could.

Chief Williams was not a fool. He saw everything.  He saw how his daughters treated Mia like she was dirt under their shoes. He heard the insults, the cruel commands, the way they worked her to the bone and then laughed about it behind closed doors. And even though his body was weak and his time was running out, he was still the man who built an empire from nothing.

 He was still the head of this family, whether they liked it or not. One morning, he called for a family meeting. Deborah walked into the living room with a fake smile plastered on her face, already preparing whatever lie she would need. The five daughters followed behind her, each one wearing expensive clothes and bored expressions. They had no idea what was coming.

 Chief Williams sat in his wheelchair at the head of the room, Mia standing quietly behind him. His hands rested on the armrests, trembling slightly, but his eyes were sharp. “I called you all here because we need to talk,” Chief Williams began, his voice weak, but firm. “About what, Daddy?” Emma asked, already looking at her phone.

 “About Mia?” The room went silent. All eyes turned to the young maid standing nervously in the corner. “What about her?” Deborah asked, her tone ice cold. “I know what you have all been doing,” Chief Williams said slowly. “I see how you treat her. Sending her on useless errands, making her do the work of 10 people, insulting her every chance you get.”

 “It stops today,” Olivia scoffed. “Daddy, she is a maid. That is what maids do. They work.” “She is not your slave.” Chief Williams shot back louder now. “From today, none of you will give her instructions anymore. None of you will send her to do your ridiculous tasks. She is here to take care of me, not to be your servant.”

Charlotte laughed bitterly. “So now the maid is special.  Is that what you are saying?” “Yes.” Chief Williams did not hesitate. “She is special to me. And if any of you lay a hand on her, if anything happens to Mia, you can forget about getting a single naira from my will. Do you understand me?”

The room exploded. “You cannot be serious.” Amelia shouted. “This girl has bewitched you.” Deborah stood up, pointing at Mia. “What did you do to my husband?” “I did nothing. Ma,” Mia whispered, her voice shaking. “Liar.” Deborah moved toward her, but Chief Williams raised his hand. “Sit down, Deborah. All of you. Sit down.”

Nobody Saturday. They all stood there, shocked and furious, staring at their dying father like he had lost his mind.

“I am old,” Chief Williams continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “I am weak, but I am still the man who built everything you enjoy. This house, your cars, your lifestyle, all of it came from me. And I will not let you torment the one person who treats me with kindness. If you cannot respect that, then leave my house.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Deborah sat down, her jaw clenched tight. The daughters followed one by one, each of them burning with rage, but they knew better than to push their father when he was serious. Not yet, anyway.

After the meeting, Mia tried to thank Chief Williams, but he waved her off. “You do not need to thank me, Mia.  I should have done it sooner.” but the damage was done. The family hated Mia now more than ever, and everyone knew this was only the beginning.

Over the next few weeks, Chief Williams began to open up to Mia in ways he never had before. He told her about his business empire, the properties scattered across Lagos, Abuja, and Port Harkort.  He explained how the real estate market worked, how he made his first million, the mistakes he made, and the lessons he learned.

Mia listened carefully, soaking in every word. She did not go to university, but she was smart. Very smart. Her WAC and NECO results proved it. Nine distinctions in WAC straight as in Neco.  She had the brain for business, for numbers, for strategy. All she lacked was money and opportunity.

Chief Williams saw that intelligence in her eyes. He saw the potential. “You could run this empire, you know.” He told her one evening, “If you had the training, you could manage everything I built.” Mia laughed softly.

 “Sir, I am just a maid. I do not know anything about business.” “You know more than my daughters,” Chief Williams said bitterly. “They only care about spending money, not making it.”

 “You, you understand struggle. You understand hard work. That is worth more than any degree.” Mia felt something warm spread through her chest. For the first time in her life, someone believed in her. Someone saw her as more than a poor girl from Aagunal.

And slowly, without even realizing it, she was beginning to care for Chief Williams, too. Not because of his money, not because of what he could give her, but because he was kind to her when nobody else was, because he made her feel human.

One night, after she gave him his medication, Chief Williams took her hand gently.  “Mia, I need to tell you something. My dying wish.” She sat down beside him, her heart racing. “I want a son,” he said quietly. “Before I die, I want to hold a male child in my arms. Someone who will carry my name, my blood. Someone who will inherit everything I built.”

Mia pulled her hand back, her eyes wide. “Sir, I cannot.” “I know what I am asking.”  Chief Williams interrupted. “I know how it sounds, but Mia, you are the only person I trust. My wife, she wants me dead. My daughters, they are waiting to divide my money like vultures. But you, you care about me and I care about you.”

“Your wife will kill me,” Mia whispered, fear creeping into her voice.  “If she finds out that anything happened between us, she will destroy me.” “She will not touch you. I will protect you.”

“How?” Mia’s voice broke. “You are sick, sir. You cannot even walk without help. How will you protect me from them?” Chief Williams was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke, his voice heavy with truth. “You are right. I am weak, but my money is not. My lawyers are not.”

 “And if you give me this one thing, I will make sure you and your family are taken care of for life. I will put it in writing. I will make it legal. You will never have to struggle again.” Mia stood up, pacing the room. Her mind was spinning. This was madness. This was dangerous.

SBut when she thought about her mother selling oranges in the sun, her brothers who dropped out of school, the tiny room they all shared in Ajagunal, she felt something inside her crack. “Why do you need a son so badly?” she asked finally.

Chief Williams closed his eyes. “Because those women in this house do not deserve what I built. They did not work for it. They did not sacrifice for it. In all they did was wait for me to die. But a son, a son would carry my legacy. A son would make sure my name does not disappear.”

It was a selfish reason. Mia knew that, but she also understood it. In a world where people only valued you for what you could give them, Chief Williams just wanted someone to remember him. “I need time to think,” Mia said quietly. “Take all the time you need.”

 But time was the one thing they did not have. 3 days later, Mia gave him her answer. “Yes.”

That night changed everything. Weeks passed. At first, nobody suspected anything, but then Mia started feeling sick. In the mornings, she would rush to the bathroom and vomit, her stomach twisting in knots.

 She tried to hide it, tried to pretend it was just stress or bad food, but the signs were too obvious. Amelia was the first to notice. As Deborah’s loyal spy, she watched Mia like a hawk, always looking for ammunition to use against her. One morning, she heard Mia throwing up in the bathroom and immediately went to her mother. “Mommy, I think Mia is pregnant.”

Deborah’s eyes went wide. “What?” “I heard her vomiting this morning and she has been tired lately, sleeping more than usual. I am telling you that girl is carrying a baby.”

Deborah’s face twisted with rage. “If what you are saying is true, then she has been sleeping with my husband. That little witch has been in my house eating my food and sleeping with my dying husband.”

 “What are we going to do?” Amelia asked, excited by the drama. “First, we confirm it. Then, we deal with her.”

The next day, Deborah forced Mia to take a pregnancy test. Mia had no choice. She went to the pharmacy, bought the test, and locked herself in the bathroom. When she saw the two lines appear, her hands shook so badly she almost dropped it. Positive. She was carrying Chief Williams child.

 When Deborah saw the result, she lost control. She grabbed Mia by the arm and dragged her into the living room where all the daughters were gathered. “Look at this.” Deborah screamed, waving the test in the air. “This girl is pregnant. She has been sleeping with your dying father, and now she wants to bring a bastard into this family to share your inheritance.”

The daughters erupted. Olivia called her a home wrecker. Emma recorded everything on her phone, already planning how to use this scandal for clout. Charlotte spat at her feet. Even Sophia, weak as she was, looked at Mia with pure hatred. “You are a disgrace,” Deborah hissed.

 “You came into my house as a maid and tried to steal my husband. Well, let me tell you something, girl. That baby you are carrying will never see a single naira. I will make sure of it.” Before Mia could respond, the sound of a wheelchair rolling into the room silenced everyone. Chief Williams appeared in the doorway, his face pale, but his eyes blazing with anger.

 “What is going on here?” “Your precious maid is pregnant,” Deborah shouted. “She has been sneaking into your bed and now she thinks she can trap you with a baby.”

Chief Williams looked at Mia, then at his wife, then at his daughters. He took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said calmly. “The baby is mine.”

The room went dead silent. “I asked Mia to carry my child. She did not seduce me. She did not trap me. I begged her and she agreed because she has a kind heart, something none of you have.”

Deborah looked like she was about to faint. “You did this on purpose.” “Yes, because I wanted a son. And now, God willing, I will have one.” “You are insane,” Deborah whispered.

 “Maybe,” Chief Williams said, rolling his wheelchair forward. “But I am still the head of this family, and you all know what I am capable of. So, let me make this very clear. If anyone touches Mia, if anyone harms her or that baby, I will cut you out of my will completely. Every single one of you, try me.”

” He looked each of them in the eye, daring them to challenge him. Nobody moved, but the hatred in their eyes was unmistakable. From that moment on, Mia was no longer just a maid. She was an enemy. And Deborah Williams, along with her five daughters, each began plotting their revenge.

Mia was terrified. Every step she took in that house felt like walking through a minefield. VàEvery corner she turned, she expected someone to jump out and attack her. The pregnancy was only 3 weeks old, barely showing, but the danger was already real. She could feel it in the way Deborah stared at her with murder in her eyes. She could see it in how the daughters whispered and plotted whenever she walked past.

 One night, after everyone had gone to bed, Mia crept into Chief Williams room. Her hands were shaking. “Sir, I cannot stay here,” she whispered urgently. “I am scared. These people want me dead. I can feel it.”

Chief Williams looked at her with worry carved into every line of his face.  He wanted to protect her, but what could he do? He was trapped in a wheelchair, dying slowly, barely able to lift a glass of water without help. And the baby was only 3 weeks along. They did not even know if it was a boy or girl yet. But he loved Mia that much he knew. Boy or girl, he would protect this child. He would protect her.

“Give me a few days,” Chief Williams said quietly.  “I will figure something out.” 3 days later, he called Mia back into his room. His eyes were determined now, like he had made a decision he could not take back. “You are leaving Nigeria,” he said firmly.

Mia’s eyes widened. “What?” “I am sending you abroad somewhere safe.”

 “You will stay there for 9 months, have the baby in peace, and come back when it is safe. If you stay in this house, Mia, you will not survive. I know my family. They are capable of terrible things.” “But sir,” “no arguments. I have already made arrangements. My private jet will take you. I will send money every month for your upkeep. You will have the best doctors, the best care. Just trust me.”

Mia wanted to cry.  She wanted to thank him, but the words would not come. All she could do was nod. But Chief Williams did not know that Deborah had been listening to everything. After discovering Mia’s pregnancy, Deborah had planted a small voice recorder in her husband’s room. Every night while he slept, the device captured every word, every plan, every secret.

 Deborah would retrieve it the next morning and listen carefully, taking notes, plotting her counterattack. When she heard about the plan to send Mia abroad, she smiled, a cold, wicked smile. She went straight to Amelia. “Your father is sending that girl out of the country,” Deborah said, her voice low and dangerous.

 “He thinks he can hide her from us, but we are going to stop him.” Amelia’s eyes lit up with excitement. “How? Mommy,” “leave that to me. But first, make sure your sisters know what is happening. We all need to be ready now.”

Amelia had one problem. She could not keep a secret to save her life. Her mouth was like a broken tap, always running.  Within hours, she had told Olivia, Emma, Charlotte, and even Sophia. The whole house knew, and each of them started planning their own attack.

Deborah moved first. She was smart, calculated, ruthless. If Mia was going to leave the country, she would need documents. Passport, birth certificate, national identification number. Without those, she was stuck. Deborah made some calls.

 She knew people in dangerous places. People who did dirty work for the right price. Within 2 days, a group of men showed up at Mia’s family home in Ajagunal. Mia’s mother was selling oranges by the roadside when they came. They did not hurt anyone. They did not threaten anyone.

sThey just walked into the small room where Mia’s family lived, searched through everything, and took every single document they could find. Birth certificates, school records, Mia’s NIN card, her old passport, everything. When Mia’s mother came home and saw the mess, she called Mia immediately, her voice shaking with fear. “Mia, people came to the house. They took all your papers, everything. Who did you offend?”

Mia felt her stomach drop.  She knew exactly who was behind this. When she told Chief Williams, he clenched his fists in anger. Even in his weakness, rage burned in his eyes. “Do not worry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I will call my people. We will get you new documents. They cannot stop us.”

But that was exactly what Deborah wanted.  She wanted Chief Williams to scramble, to make calls, to spend time fixing the problem. Because while he was distracted, the real attack was coming.

Olivia took things personally. Of all the daughters, she was the most invested in her father’s money because of Kenneth. Her scammer boyfriend had been pressing her every single day.

 “When is he going to die? When do we get the money?” Olivia could not let some random maid from Ajagunal ruin her plans. So, she hired men of her own. Not to steal documents, but to do something worse.

On the day Mia was supposed to leave for the airport, Olivia planned to have her intercepted. The men would block the car, drag Mia out, and make her disappear.  Simple, clean, and Olivia would act shocked when the police came asking questions.

But Chief Williams was not stupid. He had been in business for 30 years. He knew how snakes moved. He knew how to think 10 steps ahead. He announced a fake travel date. Told everyone in the house that Mia would be leaving on Friday afternoon.

sMade a big show of it. Even had one of his drivers prepare the car publicly. But the real plan was different. Late Thursday night, when the mansion was dark and silent, Chief Williams sent Mia a text message. “Leave now. Do not tell anyone. Go to the back gate. My driver is waiting.”

 Mia read the message, her heart pounding so loud she thought it would wake someone up. She packed a small bag with just the essentials, put on a simple dress, and crept out of her room like a thief in the night.

The house was quiet, too quiet. Every creek of the floor made her freeze.  Every shadow made her jump, but she kept moving one step at a time until she reached the back gate. A black car was waiting, engine running. The driver opened the door without saying a word, and Mia climbed in.

As they drove away, she looked back at the mansion one last time, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. By the time the sun came up, Mia was already at a private airirstrip boarding Chief Williams jet.

No commercial airport, no public records, just a quick silent departure. The plane took off at dawn, cutting through the clouds and carrying me a far away from the hell she had been living in.

Back at the mansion, Deborah woke up early Friday morning, eager to see her plan unfold.  She had positioned Amelia near the front gate to watch for when Mia would leave. Olivia’s hired men were already waiting on the road, ready to strike.

But when the morning passed and Mia did not come downstairs, Deborah felt something twist in her gut. She marched upstairs and banged on Mia’s door. No answer. She pushed it open.

 The room was empty. The bed was made. Mia’s few belongings were gone. Deborah’s face turned red with rage. “Where is she?” She screamed. The daughters came running. They searched the whole house. The kitchen, the backyard, the garage. Nothing. Mia was gone.

“She played us,” Emma said, staring at her phone in disbelief. “That girl actually escaped.” Olivia called her hired men in a panic. “Did you see her? Did she leave?” “Nobody came out. Ma,” they reported. “We have been watching since yesterday. No sign of any maid.”

Deborah wanted to break something. She had been outsmarted by a dying man in a wheelchair. The humiliation burned worse than the anger.

But Chief Williams was not done yet. While Mia was safe overseas, recovering from the stress and adjusting to her new life, Chief Williams called his lawyer.  A man he had trusted for 20 years, someone who knew how to keep secrets and handle delicate matters.

“I need you to draft a new will,” Chief Williams said over the phone, his voice weak, but clear. “When I die,” Deborah will get partial ownership of the businesses. “Just enough to live comfortably.”

 “But 80% of everything I own goes into a trust fund for my son.” “Your son?” the lawyer asked confused. “He is not born yet, but he will be. And when he turns 18, everything will be his. The properties, the companies, the investments, all of it. Make sure it is airtight. Make sure no one can break it.”

The lawyer was silent for a moment, processing the bomb that had just been dropped.  Then he said, “Consider it done, Chief.”

9 months later, in a quiet hospital overseas, Mia gave birth. The baby came out crying. healthy and strong. The doctor smiled and said, “Congratulations. It is a boy.”

Mia held her son in her arms and wept. Not from sadness, but from relief, from joy from the overwhelming weight of everything she had been through.

What about Deborah and her daughters? When they found out about the baby boy, what would they do? Would they accept defeat? Or would their rage push them to do something even more dangerous?

The war was far from over, and the real battle was just beginning. If you want to know what happened next, if you want to find out whether Chief Williams lived to see his son or if Mia returned to face the vultures waiting for her in that mansion, then make sure you subscribe to this channel right now.

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