Mercenary Wife – 3


Why would this happen to him? It tortured Simon that he still could not understand why. Why would it be him, of all people, to wind up with a treacherous woman who had no true feelings for him? Why would he, at thirty-four, fall into such a snare?

Why would God allow him to fall into such a snare?

He had prayed. Like he did when he faced any major step in his life. He had studied the Word and listened for the voice of the Lord. And then, he had gotten that very certain feeling of confidence that often followed moments of prayer and meditation. And it was that certainty, that confidence that sprung from a conscious feeling of approval from God, that tore off the hold on his heart and had inevitably, ended in him proposing to her and marrying her.

And now, it was all a mistake.

Oh God, why would you let this happen to me? Simon silently moaned and nursed his bottle of drink. Has he not shown enough commitment to God? Had he not loved, and served, him enough with all that he has and was? Had he not been faithful most of his adult life, shying away from all sins of flesh that offended him?

So why would he hear his prayers, allow him to have a false feeling of confidence and let him fall into a snare set by a woman of such duplicity and fickleness? Why, Lord?

Simon gulped his drink and then pressed the lukewarm bottle against his head, forcing a shaky breath through his mouth as he fought against the torment that threatened to break his heart in two. No, he was not permitted to question or blame God for his foolishness. It was not God who had done this to him. It was Richelle. Richelle, in collaboration with Satan her master, had done this to him. It was she, with her greed and her shallowness, who had snatched joy right from his heart—and on his wedding day.

But he wasn’t going to allow her to win. Oh no! She wouldn’t be allowed to win this war she has started.


God! Was that what their marriage was, a war? Instead of marital bliss, there was just lies and deception and misery. Instead of holding his wife in his arms and enjoying the beauties of a romantic city, he was alone, huddled in the dark corner of a lounge.

Simon angled his head and then let out a deep sigh. He’d known that he would come. Maybe he’d wanted him to come. It was their private get-away and Paul would guess he would come here, as he would guess, and had guessed, that something was amiss between him and Richelle.

“How long have you been here?”

Simon shrugged. “Long enough.”

Paul sighed. “Are you all right?” He asked gently, claiming the chair opposite his.

“Just dandy.” Simon offered a big smile and raised his drink in salute before taking a long-drawn gulp.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing.” He picked another bottle, uncorked it and sipped. “Just having a drink. Well, more than one drink, as you can see.” He amended with a dry chuckle.

“And it wouldn’t have been coke, if you could stomach liquor, would it?” Paul guessed.

Simon glanced at him and then at the bottle of coca cola in his hand. “I considered it—liquor. But like you said, I can’t stomach it.” And just for the heck of something to do, he pitched the bottle to his mouth and drank like he was thirsty.

“What did she do to you?”

“What did who do to me?”

“Jesus, Simon, don’t play that game.” Paul’s tone was a cross and imbued with worry. “You know very well that I’m talking about Richelle. What has she done to you? Why did you have your honeymoon cancelled?”

“We cancelled the honeymoon because it suited us to.” Simon set down the bottle and sat back with a loose shrug. “I told you at the hotel, and at the house, Paul, nothing is wrong. We just changed our minds and our plans.”

Paul stared at him. There was annoyance in his eyes. There was hurt too that he wouldn’t confide in him. Finally, he shook his head. “She’s hurt you deeply, hasn’t she?”

“Like the cliché goes, marriage is not a bed of roses.”

Paul swore. “Come on, Simon, I am your brother. I am family. How can I help if I don’t know where your pain is?”

In my heart. Everywhere. Simon swallowed the temptation to blurt it all out and shook his head. “I don’t really need help, Paul. I’ve got this covered.”

“And what is this?”

Simon chuckled. That was Paul, if one route wasn’t working, he’d try another. “This is marriage, brother. We never know what it holds until we open the pack we bargained for and see what is inside.”

“And what is inside your pack, this haunted look in your eyes and you alone at some corner lounge instead of home with your wife?” Paul queried, eyes narrowed and scanning. “Is that what you found in your pack, Simon?”

He would tell him. He would tell him everything, like he had often told him all his problems in the past. But what good would it do, except to maybe escalate matters? And then, Paul would truly hate Richelle. His entire family too. And God help him, he didn’t want them, anyone, hating her. Stupid, because he half hated her now.

But it wasn’t hate that gnawed his heart like biting teeth, Simon silently admitted and sighed at the admission. “We’ll be fine, Paul. I’ll be fine. I promise you.” He smiled.

It was another moment before Paul murmured. “Papa and mama are worried. Everyone is.”

They would be. Simon knew that. He didn’t want them to be. But that couldn’t be helped. “You tell them that I am all right.”

“You come lie to their faces yourself.” Paul returned.

“I am not lying to you.” Simon countered, his smile, a great effort to maintain. “Richelle and I will be fine. We are married, Paul. So it is for better and for worse.”

Paul itched up an eyebrow. “And worse is coming the very same day you made those vows?”

“Nothing in the unwritten book of marriage ever said when worse will come.” Simon jested, and then sighed. “I made a vow to this woman before God, Paul. I am her husband and I am bound by the oath that I have taken to play that role.”

“Is she bound by the same oath?”

“We both are now.”

Paul, once more, scanned his face. Then he too sighed. “I wish I knew what to do.”

“You’re doing it already.” Simon picked a bottle of coke, uncorked it and handed it to him. “Here. Have a coke with your brother.”

“Couldn’t you have at least left them chilling and order as you go?” Paul grimaced as he took a swallow.

“No worries there. I have some frosting and we’ll get to them.” Simon assured him.

“Jesus!” Paul muttered.

And Simon laughed for he knew how much Paul abhorred coca cola.


He strolled into the house, humming tonelessly under his breath. He acknowledged Nene’s greetings with an absent nod, accepted the glass of juice she offered and sat in front of the television to drink it in comfort.

He scanned through channels, and finding nothing of interest, he dumped the remote control, rose and strode out of the living room.

She threw herself at him the second he had the door open. “How dare you lock me inside here like I am some kind of prisoner!” She howled, attacking him with her hands.

Simon caught one hand before it hit him on the face. “No, you’re not a prisoner.” He pried her off him and shoved her aside. “You are a lying, cheating, money-grubbing wife. I know.”

That seemed to stumble her. Then she twisted up her chin and firmed her mouth. “I am your wife and I should not have been treated like a common miscreant. You should not have locked me up and taken my phone, Simon. I deserve to be treated better.”

“You deserve nothing. Nothing but what you’re about to be accorded.” He jabbed a finger at the high-back sofa. “Sit.”

She followed the direction of his finger before returning her eyes to his and squaring her chin back into a stubborn tilt. “I don’t want to sit. I want my phone and I want to get out of here.”

Simon snatched up her arm, dragged her across the room to the sofa and shoved her into it.

“Goddamn it, Simon, would you stop manhandling me!”

Simon gripped her chin. “I told you to never swear at me. Don’t let me repeat that warning.” He let her go and stepped back. Mostly because the perfume on her was clouding his senses. “The first thing for you to know is that you are not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.” He sat on the arm of the winged chair and glanced at her. Her expression was sulky and she was rubbing her arm. He pinned his cool gaze on her eyes. “We are married, and by God, married we will stay.”

Her eyes flickered. With surprise. “You don’t want a divorce? Or an annulment since our marriage has not been consummated?”

“I know you do not comprehend the true meaning of marriage.” His mouth curled with scorn. “If you did, you wouldn’t have entered into it under false pretences.”


“There will be no divorce. No annulment. You are married to me and until I say differently, you will stay married to me.” He tucked one hand into his pocket and got out her phone. “This you can have back. But not so that you begin to tattle about our private affairs to every Tom, Dick and Harry. Or should I say, mum, Uma and your IG followers? What is between us, stays between us. That is how marriage works, in case the reason for that little factor bewilders you.”

“Simon—” She started again as she took back her phone.

“And about your lover.” His eyes iced over and did not flicker. “You will not see him again.”

“He’s not my lover, Simon.”

“Do not interrupt me again.” Simon coldly requested. And had the minor pleasure of seeing her blanch and then pucker her lips into a sulky pout. “You will not see that man again. Or any other man for that matter. You are mine and I will not tolerate any form of infidelity. So you will not see him, will not speak to him and most definitely, will neither exchange text or chat messages with him. As far as you are concerned, he no longer exists.”

“I suppose you’ve had the time to hack my Messaging Apps.” She muttered.

“Keep away from him and from any other lover you might have had.” Simon finished and rose to his feet, slid his iPad from under his arm. “I would counsel you not to tempt me, Richelle, as I’ve got my eyes on you.” He completed his transaction and treated her to a sardonic smile. “And they won’t blink.”

She frowned. “Have you hired someone to stalk me, Simon?”

The short beep of her phone bleated out and he jerked his head. “I would check that. Could be important.”

She frowned even more at her phone before tapping through it. Then her mouth dropped open in a big round O.

“You married me for my money, right? Is five million naira a fair price to buy your fidelity to begin with?”


Simon turned. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, wife.”

She ran in between him and the door. “But this is your bedroom. Our bedroom.”

“Consider it your bedroom now.” He drew her from the doorway and went through it.

In the guest room, he yanked off his blazer and lowered tiredly to the bed. He ached all over. His heart ached like it had the sulphur from a volcanic eruption poured all over it.

He woke up a little later than he usually did. Which wasn’t a surprise since he’d stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning. His heart still ached. But then, it wasn’t going to stop doing so, not for a long while yet. Simon had finally accepted that. With much regret.

He opened the bedroom door and found her right in front of it. “Well, good morning, madam wife.” He greeted and then, arched his brows. “Misplaced your clothing somewhere?”

She had on a flimsy lace camisole and black lace panties. Just that. Her breasts were pure temptation as they pushed forward the camisole. And the rest of her was the same.

“Good morning, baby.” She smiled, slowly and seductively, draped her slim, long length along the door jamb. “I thought I should rouse my husband. But I see you’ve gotten up on your own.” She tilted her head to one side and scanned his appearance. “You’re dressed up though. Going somewhere?”

“To work.” Simon said briefly, acknowledged the twists ripping his gut. He wanted her. Well, he wasn’t going to have her. Not today.

“Oh.” Her seductive smile vanished, and her face creased with a frown. “But I thought you took leave off work.”

She smelled of early morning sleep, of talcum powder and of vague sultry sex. Since he didn’t want the punching desire taking over, Simon took a conscious step back from her body. “Seeing as we are no longer on our honeymoon, it is pointless staying off work.”

“Oh no, baby.” She slithered off the door jamb and swayed into the room, the seductive smile back on her face and her eyes shadowed with a secret gleam. “Please, don’t go, baby. I thought you and I could stay home together and try to resolve our little misunderstanding.”

“We don’t have a little misunderstanding, Richelle.” The torture to pluck her into his arms and ravage her pierced through. But that was just what she wanted. What she was counting on happening. “It is my understanding that we understand each other perfectly.”

“No, we don’t.” She looked at him with beguiling brown eyes. “You don’t yet understand me, baby, and I blame myself for it. I spent all night thinking about what I’d done. What I’d done to you. What I said… the things I did.” She reached up her hand and touched his face. “I made a mistake with you. A terrible, horrible, stupid mistake. You should not have heard me say those stupid things. No wife should say such things to the hearing of her husband. Or even to the hearing of anyone else. No wife should even think it.”

Her palm trailed down his face, circled his neck and entwined with her other hand there. Simon allowed her to frame herself against his body, a bittersweet pleasure that both tormented and vexed him.

“Simon baby, I know I’ve hurt you. I freely and willingly admit that what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have been talking of another man. Not when you should be my only man. It was so wrong of me.” She fluttered her eyes, slinked one trailing hand underneath his suit and trailed the other up to caress his chin while her unpainted lush lips danced inches beneath his own. “You are the only one now. That I promise you. There’s no one else. There will never again be.” She squeezed against him, fingers fondling where they touched. “Let me make it up to you, baby. Let me heal your pain. And mine.”


One tilt downward and his mouth will be on hers. And the teasing warmth of her breath would be swallowed by him. One tilt, and the desire that held his groin in a ramrod clutch would be sated.

Simon straightened but purposely left his body in her arms while his eyes looked into her own. “It is a weapon for you, isn’t it? A tool to seduce with and to deceive.”

“No, it is not a weapon.” She denied and blinked her dewy eyes. “I acknowledge freely that I did you wrong. I am admitting it. And I am asking that you give me a chance to remedy the wrong that I have done.”

“A chance?” He pretended to consider it. “You are so beautiful. Did you know that it was one of the first things that charmed me? Your perfect feature face and your pure honey skin.”

“Really?” She inched up her toes and the whisper of her breath caressed his jaw.

Beneath the sheen of carefully bared desire, triumph glimmered. And it amused, and because he still cared too much, wounded Simon. “And your mouth.” He allowed his eyes to linger there. “I was struck by their prefect roundness, by their perky fullness and by their lush smoothness.” Her lips trembled out a moan. A practiced reaction, Simon figured. “But it is an orifice of treachery, isn’t it?”


“It lies and it deceives and it devastates, doesn’t it?” His eyes taunted and his hand clasped her jaw. “Seduction doesn’t work for me, Richelle. I don’t leave by sex alone.” He pried her off him. “You failed, again.”

“Simon!” Shock, and maybe anger, flashed into her eyes.

“Go put on some decent clothes, wife. We’ll be eating breakfast together like the nice little family that we are.” Tossing her a cool smile, he brushed past her and whistled as he strode down the corridor.

He had his punchy desire back under control by the time she joined him on the dining table. She’d changed into a plain tawny brown cotton dress and a pair of beige flats but somehow, she still managed to look as tempting as sin.

Simon gave her a very casual glance before he switched his gaze back to his omelette and bread. “There’s coffee, tea and chocolate to choose from. And then, the choice of either omelette or boiled egg and veggies to go with your bread.”

She picked the teapot. “The veggies look nice.” She commented as she took two slices of bread off the loaf. “You know, I can now take over the cooking as we are married. I’m quite the good cook and I would love to be the one taking care of you.”

He’d never tasted anything she cooked. But that wasn’t the problem and Simon acknowledged it with something of a regret. He didn’t quite trust her. Even in the matter of feeding him. Maybe for now, especially in that.

“I am sure you are but there is no need to put yourself out. Nene does just fine in the kitchen.” He drank up his coffee and pushed back his chair. “I do have to leave now. Have a splendid day, wife.”

She clasped a hand over his wrist. “Would you be home for lunch?”

“If I will be, will you be here to dine with me?”

“Of course. I have no plans to go out today.”

He untangled his hand. “See you right before dinner, Richelle.”

And if her quick sigh was one of regret or relief, Simon could not tell and soon stopped to ponder over it when he entered his office.

Settled on his executive chair behind a desk that continued to overwhelm him, he typed on the full name he’d retrieved from Truecaller and then picked the right Voke Dabunor.

Simon stared at the Facebook profile image with an emptiness he hadn’t envisaged. He was clearly younger than him. Maybe closer to Richelle’s twenty-seven years. He was built, like in toned muscles and six-packs. And he liked to show them off as his many no-shirts shots revealed. The sort women swooned over. The sort, Richelle had been swooning over.

Feeling his gut clench and recognising fury, and maybe some dose of jealousy, Simon switched from Facebook to the LinkedIn profile. Admin staff at the NTA, Port Harcourt.

That was what he did—worked as some kind of administrative staff at a TV station. A man of no more than twenty-eight or nine, big on muscles and obviously, by his wife’s description, a power machine in bed.

Simon set down his iPad and picked his table phone. He listened to his PA and then instructed. “Send him in.”

He entered, a man in shirt and cotton trousers, tall, bordering on slender and with an unremarkable face. Simon supposed the ordinary look would keep him unnoticed and unsuspicious.

“Please have a seat.” He invited and sat up himself in his seat. “I want discretion and that is what your profile says: privacy and discretion. The subject is my wife.” He passed him a picture and waited until he returned it before going on. “I only want details. No pictures. No videos. Just details.”

“And details only you will get.” His voice was as unremarkable as his entire appearance.

“How much?”

He named a price that shot up Simon’s eyebrows and added. “Online transfers only. Forty per cent now. The rest when contract is done.”

Simon said nothing. Just took the piece of paper and worked the transfer. “You just resumed for duty, sir.” He said when he set down his iPad.

He took the envelope Simon handed over, rose and left after a single silent nod.

He wanted his eyes on her, so he will have his eyes on her. This was what his marriage, their marriage was. Simon lifted a clipped file and got to work.


Had a good read? Let us hear your feedback then. Cheers.

Dedication: Wishing love and long life to all November celebrants.

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32 Responses to Mercenary Wife – 3

  1. favour says:


    I really feel for simon

    See how honeymoon just turned to miserymoon

  2. Jeffrey Jamez says:

    A man with impeccable Self control….I like….btw TM you might want to proofread lol.. Spotted a few typos and misplaced words here and there (which is unlike you).hope you’re okay sha?

    Keep up the good work

  3. jojodia says:

    ..and waited I did…
    Thanks TM. The ode Richelle is so so unrepentant.
    Kudos to Simon for resisting her sexual advances. I’m sure if he refuses to sleep with her for the next 3 weeks, she will go look for the admin assistant to ‘light her up’…Anufia

  4. Marnie Jerimiah says:


  5. Mammy says:

    Na wow look. See gone. This girl should better wake up before he gets tired of her. Always a nice read TM

  6. Doyinsola says:

    May God save us from such marriages oooo, what is union! Feeling sorry for Simon

  7. CHINNY says:

    Na wa o. Nice read @TM. She don enter,can’t wait for the drama to continue.

  8. mcsteph says:

    Hmmm…..i dislike her.

  9. Patience.Bassey says:


  10. Iyke David says:

    But this lady really really gat a whole lot of liver oooo! I think I ‘yam’ beginning to like her and her courage!

  11. Ego says:

    I see Richelle loving Simon at the end….she doesn’t have an option though.. Nice one TM

  12. Ella mum says:

    I expected Rachelle to go down on her knees n beg her husband. Instead after getting 5mil, she want to act smart by seducing simon. Ok o. ‘Man shall not live by sex alone’. I like that

  13. tosin says:

    I am feeling so sorry for Simon right now, but in his deepest heart, he still loves Richelle.

  14. mercy says:

    TM Richelle is not our heroine o!she’s d villain n me thinks we shd cook up a horrible horrible end for her. Simon is too noble…..didn’t tell Paul?dt must a taken lotsa control…….

  15. Paula says:

    My heart kind of breaks for him, poor love

  16. Evatreasure says:

    …..sometimes i just feel men like Simon are “fairytales”….. as much as I try, I just can’t hate Rachelle, don’t know why. nice one ma’am, keep it coming.

  17. Zinnie says:

    If half of the men on earth were like Simon, the would have been filled with more disciplined folks. I want me my own Simon.
    Richelle! Richelle! Richelle!. How many times have I called you? Your momma didn’t teach you not to solve problems of the heart with sex? My dear, with Simon, you’ve still got a long way to go, so better grow some sense, or you can go buy some with the 5 mill…ode oshi.
    TM please, do and heal Simon’s heart. I can’t even start imagining how heart broken he must be.
    Thanks for sharing this wonderful movie/story.

  18. Toyenlon says:

    I really like Simon’s character, it took a grrat deal of self control not to tell Paul what he was going thru. Interesting read, thanks.

  19. frances says:

    Oh well this is going to make Simon tougher and stronger and if dt otondo wife of his is open to true love she too wil benefit and be a better person. Stil hoping she wil go gaga at some pt in time.

  20. Roselyn says:

    My dear Simeon, am sure this was allowed to come to you cos it is something you can handle and may be turn our madam seducer into a better loving wife for life. thanks TM

  21. Nancydearie says:

    Simon that wife of yours has guts, imagine her saying she deserved to be treated better when betrayed you and treated you like a nobody. You had better put her in her place cause she is damn money concious. Well done TM, you are the best. More Grace TM.

  22. Kemi says:

    hmmmmm 24th century guys cannot behave like this o. thank u sweetie

  23. Mz Tee says:


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