All Give, All Take

Lagos never sleeps.

Even at night, the city is alive with people shouting, generators humming, horns blaring, and dreams struggling to survive.

Cynthia-Rose felt it that evening as she stood by the small window of their flat in Ikeja, staring at the orange glow of streetlights below.

Her reflection stared back at her on the glass, young, beautiful, tired. Too tired for a girl of twenty-two.

"Cynthia!" her mother called from the living room.

"Come here." She sighed softly and turned away from the window. The sitting room was small. Old sofa, fan making noise like it wanted to die.

Her mother, Mrs. Ezekwesili, sat upright, hands tightly folded like she was holding bad news inside her chest. Her younger brother, Chuka, stood by the door, restless.

"What's going on?" Cynthia-Rose asked. Her mother looked at her for a long moment before speaking.

"Sit down first." That tone. That serious tone. Cynthia-Rose's heart skipped. "There is a man," her mother began slowly. "A very important man."

Cynthia-Rose frowned. "What kind of man?"

"A chief" Chuka her younger brother, cut in, excitement flashing in his eyes. "Big man in Lagos. Very rich." Her mother shot him a warning look.

"Let me talk."

Cynthia-Rose folded her arms. "Mama, please, don't tell me another story of one uncle or politician that will promise heaven and disappear."

"This one is different." her mother said quietly. "His name is Chief Fredrick Mba."

The name landed heavy. Even Cynthia-Rose, who tried to stay away from gossip, had heard that name. Everybody in Lagos knows he was into real estate, politics, oil, influence. The kind of man that sneezes and markets shake.

"So?" Cynthia-Rose asked carefully.

Her mother swallowed. "He wants to see you." The room went quiet.

"See me?" Cynthia-Rose repeated.

"For what?"

Her mother's voice dropped. "He wants to... help us."

Cynthia-Rose stood up immediately. "No."

"Cynthia-" "I said no" she snapped.

"I'm not going anywhere to meet any old rich man because of money."

"Sit down!" her mother said sharply. Cynthia-Rose froze. Her mother rarely raised her voice.

"You think I enjoy this?" her mother continued, eyes shining. "You think I don't know what people will say? But look around you!" She waved her hand around the room.

"Look at this house. Look at your brother struggling in school. Look at the debts. Light bill, hospital bill. Cynthia, we are drowning."

Silence.

Cynthia-Rose felt the familiar weight pressing on her chest. The one she carried every day but pretended wasn't there.

"So you want to sell me," she said softly. Her mother flinched.

"God forbid."

"Then what is it?" Cynthia-Rose asked. "Because that's how it sounds."

Chuka stepped forward. "It's not like that, Cynthia. Nobody is forcing you. The man just wants to meet you. He likes you."

She laughed bitterly. "Likes me? He doesn't even know me."

"He has seen you" her mother said. "Your pictures. Your interviews. Your work."

Cynthia-Rose felt cold. "So he saw me and decided he wants me." she said. "Like some property."

"No" her mother whispered. "Like a wife."

The word hit her like slap. "Wife?" Her legs felt weak. She sat back down slowly.

"How old is this man?" she asked.

Her mother hesitated.

"Mama" Cynthia-Rose warned. "Fifty-five," her mother said.

Cynthia-Rose laughed loud, sharp, painful.

"Fifty-five" she repeated.

"Mama, that man is older than Papa would have been." Her mother's eyes filled with tears.

"Your father is dead, Cynthia." The room fell quiet again. "And since he died" her mother continued, voice shaking, "life has not been kind to us."

Cynthia-Rose rubbed her temples. "So what exactly does this Chief Mba want?"

Her mother looked down. "Marriage."

"No" Cynthia-Rose said firmly. "I won't do it."

"You haven't even met him" Chuka said.

"I don't need to" she replied. "I'm not marrying a man old enough to be my father because of money." Her mother stood up slowly.

"He is not forcing you. He said he wants to talk. That's all."

Cynthia-Rose looked at her mother's face, lined, tired, desperate. For the first time, she saw fear there. Real fear.

"When?" she asked quietly. "Tomorrow evening" her mother said. "At his place. Mba Tower."

Cynthia-Rose's stomach tightened.

***

Mba Tower stood tall like it owned the sky. As Cynthia-Rose stepped out of the car the next evening, she felt small. The building was glass and steel, shining like money itself. Security everywhere. Men in suits. Quiet power.

"This place no be here o" she muttered under her breath. Her mother squeezed her hand.

"Just be calm. Talk well."

They were led upstairs. Very high. The doors opened into a space so big, so quiet, so clean it felt unreal.

Lagos noise disappeared completely.

Then she saw him. Chief Fredrick Mba stood by the window, hands behind his back, looking out at the city like a king surveying his land. He turned slowly. Tall, broad, grey hair, clean shaven with sharp eyes that aren't weak, nor frail. Just powerful.

"Good evening" he greeted them, voice deep and steady.

"You must be Cynthia-Rose." She nodded.

"Good evening, sir." He smiled slightly.

"Please, sit." They sat. Her mother kept quiet, hands folded. Cynthia-Rose felt like she was on display.

"I won't waste your time" Chief Mba said calmly.

"I believe in honesty." She nodded again.

"I have followed your journey." he continued.

"You are intelligent, ambitious and beautiful. Lagos has many beautiful women, but few with your fire."

She didn't respond.

"I know your family situation" he said. "And I know the kind of pressure you are under."

Her jaw tightened.

"I am offering stability" he said. "Protection. A future without struggle."

She looked up at him. "In exchange for what?"

His eyes met hers. Sharp and Direct.

"Marriage."

Her heart pounded.

"This is not about love" he added. "Not at first. It is an arrangement. Give and take."

She swallowed.

"You will never want for anything." he continued. "Your family will be settled. Your career protected. Your name respected."

"And what do you want from me?" she asked. He leaned forward slightly. "Loyalty, companionship, presence." She scoffed.

"I'm young enough to be your daughter."

"Yes," he said calmly.

"And old enough to decide." The words silenced her.

"I am not a cruel man." he said. "I do not cage women. But I do not pretend either. This life has rules." Her mother cleared her throat.

"Chief, thank you for-" "This decision is hers" Chief Mba interrupted gently. "Not yours."

Cynthia-Rose felt something twist inside her.

"I will give you time" he said to her. "One week."

"One week to decide my whole life" she replied bitterly. He smiled faintly.

"That is how power works, my dear." She stood up.

"I need air."

He nodded. "Of course."

As she walked toward the balcony, Lagos spread out beneath her. Lights, cars. People struggling, hustling, surviving. She realized something then.

This man was not begging. He was offering. And offers like this never came without a price. Behind her, Chief Fredrick Mba watched her quietly.

"She will say yes" he thought.

Because life had a way of forcing choices. And this was only the beginning.

Sleep refused to come.

Cynthia-Rose lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the familiar sounds of Lagos at night, generator humming somewhere close, a dog barking, voices arguing in the distance. Her phone lay beside her, screen dark, but her mind was loud.

One week.

Seven days to decide whether her life would remain hard and uncertain... or become something she might never escape.

She turned to her side and closed her eyes, but Chief Fredrick Mba's face appeared immediately. Calm, Confident, and Certain.

She will say yes.

The thought made her chest tighten.

******

Morning came too fast.

Her mother was already awake, moving around the kitchen quietly like she was afraid of making noise. Cynthia-Rose watched her for a while before speaking.

"Mama," she said softly.

Her mother turned. "Good morning, my daughter."

They stood there, looking at each other, words heavy between them.

"You knew about this before yesterday," Cynthia-Rose said. It wasn't a question. Her mother sighed and sat down.

"Yes." "How long?" Cynthia-Rose asked. "Two months."

The betrayal stung more than she expected. "Two months," she repeated.

"And you didn't tell me."

"I was hoping it would go away," her mother said. "But when Chief Mba called again, I knew it was serious."

"So you discussed me like land for sale," Cynthia-Rose snapped. Her mother's eyes filled.

"God forbid. I discussed survival." Cynthia-Rose laughed without humor.

"So if I say no, what happens?" Silence. "Mama?"

Her mother looked away. "We manage."

"That means we suffer," Cynthia-Rose said. Her mother nodded slowly.

Chuka walked in, phone in hand. "Cynthia, have you seen this?"

He showed her the screen.

A blog post.

RUMORS SWIRL AROUND YOUNG STAR AND LAGOS BUSINESS TYCOON.

Her heart dropped. "Already?" she whispered.

"That man works fast," Chuka said. Her phone buzzed immediately after.

Unknown Number.

She hesitated, then answered. "Good morning, Cynthia-Rose," the voice said calmly. Chief Fredrick Mba. Her stomach twisted. "Good morning, sir."

"I trust you got home safely yesterday," he said. "Yes."

"I don't like rumors," he continued. "But Lagos likes noise. Ignore it."

She swallowed. "I didn't invite the rumors."

"I know," he replied. "That is why I am calling." She waited.

"I want you to understand something," he said. "Whether you say yes or no, your life will change. Attention has already come." Her grip tightened on the phone.

"This city does not unsee," he added. Fear crept into her chest. "I'm not threatening you," he said calmly, as if reading her thoughts.

"I'm explaining reality." The line went dead.

*******

By afternoon, Cynthia-Rose needed air. She met Toke at a café in Yaba. Her friend arrived late, sunglasses on, lips tight. "

So it's true," Toke said, sitting down.

Cynthia-Rose sighed. "You heard."

"The whole internet heard," Toke replied. "Cynthia, what did you get yourself into?"

"I didn't get into anything," she said.

"I was dragged."

Toke leaned forward. "That man is dangerous."

"Everybody keeps saying that," Cynthia-Rose snapped. "But nobody explains how."

Toke hesitated. "Power changes people. Especially men who've had it too long."

They sat quietly.

"What if I say yes?" Cynthia-Rose asked softly.

Toke looked at her. "Then you better be ready to give up parts of yourself."

"What if I say no?"

Toke sighed. "Then be ready to struggle."

Cynthia-Rose laughed bitterly. "So either way, I lose something."

"That's Life." Toke said.

*******

That night, she stood on the balcony again, watching the city lights. Her phone buzzed.

A message.

Dinner tomorrow. 7pm. No pressure, just talk.

She stared at the screen for a long time before replying.

Okay.

*******

Chief Fredrick Mba's house in Ikoyi was quieter than Mba Tower. No noise, no chaos, just space. He welcomed her alone this time.

"You look tired" he observed.

"I haven't slept well." she replied.

"That will change." he said. They sat across from each other.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly. He studied her.

"Because you are not desperate. And because you are not foolish." She frowned. "You think this offer makes me smart?"

"No" he said. "Your hesitation does." She looked away. "I won't lie to you," he continued.

"This is not a fairytale. You will give. I will take. I will give too." "All give, all take" she muttered.

He smiled faintly. "Exactly."

"What if I fall in love with someone else?" she asked.

He paused. "That would be... complicated" he said. Her chest tightened.

"And you?" she asked. "What if you fall in love?"

He chuckled softly. "I stopped believing in that years ago."

That scared her more than anything. When she stood to leave, he said quietly, "Whatever you choose, choose with open eyes."

As she walked out, Cynthia-Rose knew one thing for sure. This was no longer just a decision.

It was a trap closing slowly. And Lagos was watching.

By morning, Lagos had decided Cynthia-Rose's fate for her.

She didn't even need to open her phone to know. The air itself felt heavy, like something bad had already happened. When she finally picked up her phone, notifications flooded the screen.

She had lots of messages, missed calls and mentions on her social media handles. Blogs, headlines, gramgist, threads, they all carry the news.

'WHO IS THE YOUNG BEAUTY LINKED TO CHIEF FREDRICK MBA?'

'FROM STRUGGLE TO BILLIONAIRE'S WOMAN?'

'LOVE OR BUSINESS?'

'INSIDE LAGOS'

MOST TALKED ABOUT CONNECTION.'

Her hands shook.

"Mama!" she called out.

Her mother rushed in, phone clutched to her chest.

"Cynthia... people are calling."

"Who?" Cynthia-Rose asked, though she already knew.

"Church people, distant relatives. Even people I don't know."

Cynthia-Rose laughed bitterly. "They didn't call when we couldn't pay rent."

Her mother didn't answer.

Chuka burst in, eyes wide. "Cynthia, this thing don big pass us."

She sat on the bed slowly. "So this is how it starts."

The world had taken a story that wasn't even finished and already written the ending.

******

She tried to step outside later that day, wearing a cap and dark glasses. It didn't help.

Two women whispered loudly as she passed.

"Na her be that."

"Small girl sharp."

A man stared too long.

She felt naked.

Back inside, she locked the door and slid down against it, breathing hard. Fear crawled under her skin. Not fear of Chief Fredrick Mba, but fear of the city itself.

Her phone rang again. Chief Fredrick Mba. She stared at the name, anger bubbling up.

She answered. "Sir."

"You should not be outside today," he said calmly.

Her jaw clenched. "So now you're controlling where I go?"

"No," he replied. "I'm protecting you."

"I didn't ask for protection."

"You didn't ask for attention either" he said. "Yet here we are."

Silence.

"This will calm down," he continued. "If you accept." The words landed heavy.

"And if I don't?" she asked. A pause, short, dangerous.

"Then you will need thicker skin." The call ended. Cynthia-Rose threw the phone onto the bed.

"So that's it," she whispered. "Say yes and the noise stops. Say no and Lagos eats me alive."

*********

That evening, Toke came over unannounced. She didn't knock. She just walked in and hugged Cynthia-Rose tightly.

"You okay?" Toke asked softly. Cynthia-Rose laughed weakly.

"Do I look okay?" They sat on the floor, backs against the sofa. "I checked," Toke said. "This thing is not random. Somebody pushed the story out."

Cynthia-Rose's heart skipped. "Who?"

Toke hesitated. "I don't know. But stories like this don't move without money."

Cynthia-Rose closed her eyes. "So even if I say no," she said slowly, "they won't let me go." Toke nodded.

"Welcome to power."

Tears burned behind Cynthia-Rose's eyes. "I just wanted a normal life."

Toke squeezed her hand. "Normal doesn't survive Lagos."

*******

That night, another message came.

'Come with me tomorrow. You need to see something.'

No greeting, No explanation.

She didn't reply.

Still, the next morning, a black SUV waited downstairs. The driver opened the door politely.

"Madam, Chief sent me."

She hesitated only a second before stepping in. If the city was already dragging her, she might as well see where the road led.

*******

They drove far. Past Ikoyi. Past Lekki. Toward quiet wealth.

They stopped at a private estate. Guards saluted.

Chief Fredrick Mba stood waiting. "You look angry," he said.

"I am," she replied.

"Good," he said calmly. "Anger means you still care." He led her inside a smaller house. Simple, No excess.

"This is where I started," he said. "Before the towers. Before the name." She looked around, confused.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked.

"Because you think I am a monster," he replied. "I am not. I am a man who learned early that love doesn't feed you."

She crossed her arms. "So you replaced love with control?"

He smiled faintly. "I replaced hunger with power." They sat. "You are afraid," he said. "Not of me. Of becoming like me."

Her throat tightened. "I don't want to lose myself," she whispered.

"You won't," he said. "You will evolve."

She shook her head. "That's what people say before they disappear." Silence stretched.

"Let me be honest," he said finally. "If you walk away, I won't chase you."

Relief flickered, then died. "But Lagos will not forget you" he added. "And I won't protect you from it."

She stood abruptly. "So this is blackmail."

"No," he replied. "This is reality."

She laughed, tears slipping out. "You really believe you're doing me a favor."

"I am," he said softly. "Just not the kind you imagined as a child."

******

That night, Cynthia-Rose couldn't stop shaking.

She looked at her mother sleeping on the sofa. At Chuka's school books stacked neatly.

She opened her phone. Typed, deleted, typed again.

What happens after I say yes?

The reply came almost instantly.

Then we stop pretending.

Her chest tightened.

She looked around the room one last time.

This life. This struggle. This freedom.

Was it even real anymore?

Outside, Lagos roared.

Inside, Cynthia-Rose whispered the words she was afraid to admit.

"Maybe I don't have a choice."

And somewhere in the quiet, Chief Fredrick Mba waited.