The Prodigal Daughter – Episode 38 & 39

The Prodigal Daughter – Episode 38

Episode 38: The Tables Turn

A second gunshot echoed through the air. Then another.

Mr. Leke’s smug expression disappeared as his men scrambled toward the door, weapons drawn. Chuka’s eyes darted between Sandra and the door, his confidence visibly shaken.

Sandra remained calm, her pulse racing, but her face gave nothing away. She had been waiting for this moment.

Mr. Leke spun toward her. “What did you do?”

Sandra smirked. “Like I said… you underestimated me.”

The door burst open. Tunde. He moved swiftly, taking out one of Mr. Leke’s men with a hard blow to the head. Behind him, two others followed—men Sandra didn’t recognize, but their weapons and precision told her they weren’t amateurs.

Chuka reached for his gun, but before he could pull it out, Tunde aimed his at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

Chuka hesitated, his jaw tightening.

Sandra used the distraction to shift in her chair, testing the ropes.

Mr. Leke let out a low chuckle, unfazed. “Impressive. But let me guess—Tunde promised to save you?” He glanced at Tunde. “You think you can just walk in here and take her?”

Tunde’s grip on the gun tightened. “You’ve lost, Leke.”

Mr. Leke smiled, his confidence still intact. “Have I?”

Before anyone could react, a deafening explosion sounded from the hallway. The room shook, and a thick cloud of smoke filled the air. Sandra coughed, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps—rushing toward them. But not just any footsteps.

More of Mr. Leke’s men.

He had planned for this.

Sandra’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening.

They weren’t the ones trapping Mr. Leke.

He had just trapped them.

Mr. Leke leaned forward, whispering just loud enough for her to hear. “I always stay two steps ahead.”

Before Sandra could react, the doors burst open again, and the room was flooded with armed men—more than before. The smoke in the air made it difficult to see clearly, but their figures were unmistakable. Tunde and his men turned their guns toward them, but they were outnumbered.

Sandra’s heart pounded as she struggled against the ropes. They had walked right into a trap.

Mr. Leke’s men moved quickly, forcing Tunde and the others to drop their weapons. Chuka finally relaxed, a smug grin returning to his face as he retrieved his gun and pointed it at Tunde.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Mr. Leke said, stepping forward and picking up Tunde’s fallen gun. He examined it like it was some cheap toy before tossing it aside. “You disappoint me, Tunde.”

Tunde clenched his jaw but said nothing.

Sandra’s mind raced. There had to be a way out. There always was.

Then she noticed something—one of the men in Mr. Leke’s group. His stance was too rigid, his grip on his weapon uncertain. He wasn’t one of Mr. Leke’s usual men.

A mole?

She took a risk. “You.” She pointed her chin toward him. “You don’t belong here.”

The man stiffened slightly. Mr. Leke turned toward him, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

It was enough of a distraction.

Sandra suddenly threw herself backward, tipping the chair over. The sharp impact against the ground loosened the ropes slightly. She gritted her teeth against the pain, twisting her wrists furiously to free herself.

At the same moment, Tunde lunged at Chuka, knocking the gun from his hand. The room erupted into chaos.

The supposed stranger—the one Sandra had pointed out—made his move. In a flash, he turned his gun on Mr. Leke’s men, firing before they could react. One went down instantly.

Sandra freed one hand and yanked at the remaining ropes. Tunde was grappling with Chuka, fists flying. Mr. Leke, furious, reached for another weapon, but before he could aim, the undercover man tackled him to the ground.

Sandra finally broke free, rolling onto her feet just as another shot rang out.

For a second, everything stopped.

Someone groaned in pain.

Sandra turned sharply, her heart stopping when she saw Tunde clutching his stomach, blood seeping through his shirt.

“Tunde!” she screamed.

He staggered, his knees buckling. Chuka stood over him, a smoking gun in his hand, his face dark with rage.

Sandra didn’t think. She launched herself at Chuka, knocking him off balance. The gun clattered to the floor, and they both tumbled down. She swung her fist, striking him hard across the face.

But Chuka wasn’t done. He grabbed her by the wrist, twisting it painfully. “You’re too late, Sandra,” he spat. “You can’t win.”

Sandra gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain. “Watch me.”

With all her strength, she kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him crashing backward.

The undercover man, now fully in control of the situation, aimed his gun at Mr. Leke, who was pinned to the ground.

“It’s over,” he said.

Mr. Leke’s jaw tightened, but for the first time, there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

Sandra rushed to Tunde’s side, pressing her hands over his wound. “Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Tunde gave her a weak smile. “Told you I wouldn’t let him win.”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet.

The battle wasn’t over.

Not until Mr. Leke was completely destroyed.

To be continued…

The Prodigal Daughter – Episode 39

Episode 39: Unseen Moves

Sandra kept pressure on Tunde’s wound, her hands shaking. His breathing was shallow, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay conscious. She needed to get him out—fast.

Across the room, the undercover man kept his gun on Mr. Leke, who remained on the ground, a smirk playing on his lips. Chuka was still groaning in pain from Sandra’s blow, but the fight wasn’t over.

Then—another gunshot.

Sandra’s head jerked up just in time to see Deborah standing at the doorway, a gun in her trembling hands.

She had fired. But at who?

Chuka groaned louder, rolling over, clutching his shoulder. Deborah had shot him.

Sandra’s breath caught in her throat. “Deborah?”

Deborah’s face was pale, her eyes wide with shock at what she had just done. But she quickly steadied herself. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Before Sandra could react, another person rushed in behind Deborah—Lanre.

His face was bruised, his shirt torn, and he had blood on his forehead, but his eyes were sharp. He had clearly been through something intense before getting here.

“What happened to you?” Sandra asked, still holding onto Tunde.

Lanre didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he ran to Sandra’s side and helped lift Tunde. “No time to explain. The police are on their way.”

The police?

Sandra whipped her head toward Deborah, who swallowed hard. “I called them before I came in.”

Everything was happening too fast.

Mr. Leke laughed from where he lay. “Oh, you think this is over?” His voice was dark, laced with amusement. “I’ve been doing this for years. You think I don’t have people inside the police force? By the time they arrive, I’ll be long gone.”

Sandra’s heart pounded. She knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Lanre shot a look at her. “We have to move now.”

But as they turned toward the door, the sound of approaching footsteps filled the hallway.

More of Mr. Leke’s men.

They were still trapped.

And worse—one of them had just locked the door from the outside.

Sandra’s blood ran cold. They weren’t getting out so easily.

To be continued…