@ugospur 23 July 2025 more from that month

A Game of death

**PROLOGUE** Reign stirred from sleep. The night had been wild—physically exhausting and emotionally charged. She and Muyiwa had spent hours tangled between the sheets. She gave him everything he wanted and more. Taming the lion in him wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. Capturing his heart was her first assignment. She turned to look at him. Obaloye Muyiwa slept like a baby. It was ironic—he was ninety years old. An old man by any standard, but his face looked no older than twenty-five. She envied his genes. His father, Chief Obaloye Ademuyi, was the source of that unnatural youth. The man was still active at a hundred and fifty. Her eyes travelled over Muyiwa’s body until she found what she wanted—his member. Reign slid beneath the sheets and took him into her mouth. As her lips went to work, the little monster stirred. “Reign… stop, abeg,” Muyiwa muttered, half-asleep. She ignored his feeble protest and slid his length into her, riding him fiercely. That woke him. He groaned, grabbed her waist, and took control of her movements until he spilled into her once more. Then his phone rang. Muyiwa stretched out his arm, fumbling for the phone. Reign slid off him and lay back down, catching her breath. “Yes, who is this?” he asked, groggy. “It’s Cenna,” came the voice from the speaker. “Father is dead.” Reign’s ears perked up. Muyiwa had put the call on speaker, and she remained quiet. Cenna couldn’t know she was here—especially not in his half-brother’s bed. “When did this happen?” Muyiwa asked. “This morning. The maid brought him his usual coffee, but he didn’t respond. She greeted him, tapped him… that’s when she realized he was gone.” Good, Reign thought. Her mind flashed back to how she got here—through the Chief’s lustful eyes and wandering hands. Despite his age, the man had been a predator. Three wives, countless concubines—nothing in a skirt had ever been safe. Now he was dead. “Who knows?” Muyiwa asked. “Just me, you, and the maid. I’ve told her to keep quiet for now, but I’ll have to call the coroner soon. I had to let you know first.” “Alright,” Muyiwa said, now sounding every bit like the eldest son. “Inform his wives. I’ll be there within the hour. Call Remi, then get in touch with the coroner.” “Yes.” The call ended. Reign moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. Her voice was soft. “He’s finally gone.” “Is that what you’re supposed to say?” Muyiwa snapped. “He was your husband. Show some damn remorse.” There he goes again—acting like a child. “Please, Muyiwa. Don’t pretend. We both know you’ve been waiting for this day. We all have.” He pulled away from her. “Really, Reign? So we should start popping champagne?” She stared at him. This again? Muyiwa had spoken freely about his father’s inevitable death during their time together, never once sounding mournful. Now he wanted to act the grieving son? She took a breath. Losing her temper here wouldn’t serve her. “It’s not like I’ll miss Chief,” she said carefully. “He already moved on from me—was chasing girls half my age.” “And so?” he retorted. “You knew the kind of man he was. Besides, you have me now.” “Do I?” She rose slowly, letting the sheets fall and her naked body glisten in the dim light. “Do I really have you, if this is how you react to me?” He softened. “It’s not like that, Reign. He was still my father. I have to show some kind of remorse. Even if I hated him... part of me still—” Lies. She didn’t believe a word, but she smiled faintly and played along. “It’s easy for you to mourn him. Your inheritance is secured. Mine? Not so much.” “What do you mean?” “You’re really asking?” she scoffed. “I have no child for your father. Once he’s buried, the other wives will turn on me. I’ll be kicked out of the house, stripped of whatever dignity I have left. Probably fired from my job too. What future will I have then? I’ve saved some money, but—” Muyiwa leaned forward and kissed her. “Stop talking like this. I’m here for you. I’ll make sure you get something. Once this settles, I’ll marry you. That way, you’ll have access to everything. You’ll be part of the family—my heir.” She looked at him, her palm sliding over his crotch. “Like I was a few minutes ago?” He chuckled and removed her hand. “Not now. I need to get to the family house. You should too—but go to your office first. It’ll be suspicious if we arrive together.” He got up and reached for his shirt. Reign headed to the bathroom and showered. When she returned, she opened his wardrobe and picked out a tuxedo-style blazer with a white shirt and black skirt. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Let the coroner come and determine the cause of death,” he replied, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “Once that’s settled, the lawyer will read his will. Then we’ll know what to do.” Reign picked up her phone, composed a message, and sent it. Chief is dead. It's time to work. She locked the phone and began to dress. The time had come. Time to tear his family apart.his heart was her first assignment. She turned to look at him. Obaloye Muyiwa slept like a baby. It was ironic—he was ninety years old. An old man by any standard, but his face looked no older than twenty-five. She envied his genes. His father, Chief Obaloye Ademuyi, was the source of that unnatural youth. The man was still active at a hundred and fifty. Her eyes travelled over Muyiwa’s body until she found what she wanted—his member. Reign slid beneath the sheets and took him into her mouth. As her lips went to work, the little monster stirred. “Reign… stop, abeg,” Muyiwa muttered, half-asleep. She ignored his feeble protest and slid his length into her, riding him fiercely. That woke him. He groaned, grabbed her waist, and took control of her movements until he spilled into her once more. Then his phone rang. Muyiwa stretched out his arm, fumbling for the phone. Reign slid off him and lay back down, catching her breath. “Yes, who is this?” he asked, groggy. “It’s Cenna,” came the voice from the speaker. “Father is dead.” Reign’s ears perked up. Muyiwa had put the call on speaker, and she remained quiet. Cenna couldn’t know she was here—especially not in his half-brother’s bed. “When did this happen?” Muyiwa asked. “This morning. The maid brought him his usual coffee, but he didn’t respond. She greeted him, tapped him… that’s when she realized he was gone.” **Good**, Reign thought. Her mind flashed back to how she got here—through the Chief’s lustful eyes and wandering hands. Despite his age, the man had been a predator. Three wives, countless concubines—nothing in a skirt had ever been safe. Now he was dead. “Who knows?” Muyiwa asked. “Just me, you, and the maid. I’ve told her to keep quiet for now, but I’ll have to call the coroner soon. I had to let you know first.” “Alright,” Muyiwa said, now sounding every bit like the eldest son. “Inform his wives. I’ll be there within the hour. Call Remi, then get in touch with the coroner.” “Yes.” The call ended. Reign moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. Her voice was soft. “He’s finally gone.” “Is that what you’re supposed to say?” Muyiwa snapped. “He was your husband. Show some damn remorse.” There he goes again—acting like a child. “Please, Muyiwa. Don’t pretend. We both know you’ve been waiting for this day. We all have.” He pulled away from her. “Really, Reign? So we should start popping champagne?” She stared at him. This again? Muyiwa had spoken freely about his father’s inevitable death during their time together, never once sounding mournful. Now he wanted to act the grieving son? She took a breath. Losing her temper here wouldn’t serve her. “It’s not like I’ll miss Chief,” she said carefully. “He already moved on from me—was chasing girls half my age.” “And so?” he retorted. “You knew the kind of man he was. Besides, you have me now.” “Do I?” She rose slowly, letting the sheets fall and her naked body glisten in the dim light. “Do I really have you, if this is how you react to me?” He softened. “It’s not like that, Reign. He was still my father. I have to show some kind of remorse. Even if I hated him... part of me still—” **Lies.** She didn’t believe a word, but she smiled faintly and played along. “It’s easy for you to mourn him. Your inheritance is secured. Mine? Not so much.” “What do you mean?” “You’re really asking?” she scoffed. “I have no child for your father. Once he’s buried, the other wives will turn on me. I’ll be kicked out of the house, stripped of whatever dignity I have left. Probably fired from my job too. What future will I have then? I’ve saved some money, but—” Muyiwa leaned forward and kissed her. “Stop talking like this. I’m here for you. I’ll make sure you get something. Once this settles, I’ll marry you. That way, you’ll have access to everything. You’ll be part of the family—my heir.” She looked at him, her palm sliding over his crotch. “Like I was a few minutes ago?” He chuckled and removed her hand. “Not now. I need to get to the family house. You should too—but go to your office first. It’ll be suspicious if we arrive together.” He got up and reached for his shirt. Reign headed to the bathroom and showered. When she returned, she opened his wardrobe and picked out a tuxedo-style blazer with a white shirt and black skirt. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Let the coroner come and determine the cause of death,” he replied, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “Once that’s settled, the lawyer will read his will. Then we’ll know what to do.” Reign picked up her phone, composed a message, and sent it. **Chief is dead. It's time to work.** She locked the phone and began to dress. The time had come. Time to tear his family apart.