HE K!CK3D HIS PREGNANT WIFE INTO THE SHARK POND, UNAWARE OF HIS $1B FORTUNE EPISODE 1 —

The city of Lagos sparkled that night the kind of glow that hides darkness in plain sight. Inside the 20th-floor penthouse of the Azure Towers, Adunni Adebayo sat alone on a velvet couch, tracing her fingers over her swollen belly. Her baby kicked lightly, a reminder that she wasn’t entirely alone. “Your daddy’s just working late again,” she whispered, forcing a smile. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t work keeping Adabo away. The clock struck 10:45 p.m. The housekeeper had gone home hours ago, and the mansion was silent except for the distant hum of the ocean below. The penthouse overlooked a private pond more like a small artificial lagoon where Adabo kept his exotic sharks. It was his pride, his obsession. He said watching them fed his focus. Adunni always thought it was strange how fascinated he was by creatures that tore things apart. Tonight, that fascination would turn deadly. Her phone buzzed. A message from her husband: > “Don’t wait up. I’m in a meeting.” But Adunni’s heart tightened. Because ten minutes earlier, she’d seen something on social media a photo of Adabo at The Velvet Lounge, not a business meeting. A woman’s hand rested on his shoulder, her red nails brushing his collar. The caption read: #powercouplegoals Tears welled in Adunni’s eyes. She had forgiven him before the late nights, the perfume on his suits, the lies. But this time felt different. The betrayal burned deeper, perhaps because she carried his child. She stood and walked to the balcony, letting the ocean breeze hit her face. Lagos stretched out below, alive and glittering. She thought of her grandmother’s words: > “When love turns to fear, my child, you must run not walk.” But where could she run? Her parents were gone. Her grandmother’s old house had been sold years ago. The only security she had was the inheritance left in her name a ₦1 billion fortune locked away until the day her grandmother’s will could be finalized. She hadn’t even told Adabo about it. He had his money, his empire. Or so she thought. The front door slammed. Her pulse jumped. Adabo walked in, his tie loose, eyes cold, a faint scent of alcohol and another woman clinging to him. “You’re awake,” he said flatly. “I could say the same,” she replied quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “How was your ‘meeting’?” His jaw tightened. “Don’t start.” “Don’t start?” Her anger flared. “I saw the pictures, Adabo. The whole city saw them! You humiliated me” “Enough!” he snapped, slamming his hand against the wall. “You think you can talk to me like that in my house? You should be grateful for everything you have!” “My house too,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “Or have you forgotten who paid the first deposit when you were still begging investors?” His eyes darkened. “What did you say?” She hesitated, realizing she’d revealed too much. “What deposit, Adunni? What are you talking about?” “I I mean nothing. Just that we built this together.” But Adabo wasn’t convinced. He stepped closer, his breath sharp with anger. “Don’t lie to me. You’re hiding something. Where did you get that money? Who gave it to you?” “Adabo, please,” she whispered, backing away. “You’re scaring me.” He grabbed her wrist. “Tell me the truth!” Her other hand instinctively went to her belly. “You’re hurting me” But he wasn’t listening. Rage clouded his eyes as he shoved her back. She stumbled, nearly falling over the edge of the marble steps that led down to the pond outside. “Adabo!” she cried, tears spilling. “Stop this! I’m pregnant!” “I made you!” he roared. “Everything you have comes from me!” The words cut through the air, sharp and venomous. And then it happened. In one terrible instant, his hand pushed too hard. Her body tilted backward. The glass railing shattered. The world spun. She fell into the black water below. The icy splash echoed across the courtyard as her scream turned into silence. The pond rippled, disturbed. And beneath, shadows moved sleek, sharp, and hungry. For a moment, Adabo just stood there, frozen in horror. He hadn’t meant to had he? “Adunni!” he shouted, rushing to the railing. “Adunni!” But all he saw was blood swirling in the moonlight. Then, nothing. Only the sound of waves lapping against stone. He staggered backward, trembling. And whispered, “What have I done?”

EPISODE 2 — “THE WOMAN WHO NEVER DROWNED”

The next morning, Lagos was bathed in soft gold light — but inside the Azure Towers, darkness reigned. The entire penthouse was eerily silent, except for the sound of a single dripping faucet.

Adabo stood in front of the massive window, staring blankly at the horizon. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled, and his trembling hands still smelled faintly of saltwater. He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t.

All night, he replayed the image — Adunni’s scream, her fall, the ripples… and the red swirl that followed.

He had waited by the pond for hours, praying she would surface. But nothing — only the lazy movement of the sharks below, circling in restless patterns.

By sunrise, he made a decision: he would erase what had happened.

He drained the pond, paid the staff to take “a few days off,” and made some calls — to his lawyer, to the press, to anyone who could help him craft the story.

“My wife has gone missing,” he rehearsed in the mirror, his voice hollow. “She left home after an argument. I’m… I’m worried sick.”

The performance was convincing enough to fool the police. But not the universe.

Because two nights later, a message arrived — on his personal phone, from an unknown number.

“You said I should be grateful for everything I have. I am. Especially for the second chance.”

His heart stopped.

He dropped the phone. Picked it up again. Read it twice. The words were calm, but the chill they carried was paralyzing.

He typed frantically:

“Who is this?”

No reply.

But when he looked out the window, something caught his eye — a small bouquet of white lilies resting at the edge of the drained pond. The same flowers Adunni used to keep by her bedside.

EPISODE 3 — THE RETURN

Three weeks passed.

The police found no body. The case went cold. Adabo played the grieving husband to perfection — public tears, a generous reward for “any information,” and photo ops showing his “devotion” to his missing wife.

But every night, he heard her.

At first, it was a whisper in the hallway. Then the faint creak of the nursery door — the one they had prepared for the baby.

Sometimes, when he turned off the lights, he could swear he heard a lullaby — Adunni’s voice, soft and haunting.

Sleep-deprived and paranoid, he started drinking more heavily. Business meetings turned chaotic. His board members began to whisper about his “decline.”

Then one evening, his housekeeper returned early from her leave and ran out screaming.

“Sir! The nursery… it’s open!”

He rushed upstairs.

The door, sealed since Adunni’s disappearance, was ajar. Inside, the mobile above the crib was spinning — slowly, silently. And on the wall, scrawled in pale chalk, were three words:

“We are waiting.”

He stumbled backward. His heart pounded in his ears.

Who could’ve written that?

But before he could call security, his phone buzzed again. The same unknown number.

“The sea doesn’t keep secrets forever.”

EPISODE 4 — THE TRUTH UNDER WATER

That night, unable to take it anymore, Adabo drove to the old pier near Tarkwa Bay — the same area where he used to dump the pond water after cleaning.

The waves were unusually high, the moon sharp and merciless. He shouted into the darkness, “Adunni! What do you want from me?”

A voice answered.

Soft. Familiar. Too familiar.

“I want what was mine.”

He turned — and there she was.

Drenched, barefoot, wearing the same silk nightgown from that night. Her hair clung to her shoulders. Her eyes — calm, almost glowing — locked onto his.

“Adunni…” he gasped. “You’re alive?”

She smiled faintly. “Alive enough.”

He stumbled closer, tears streaming. “I didn’t mean to — I lost control — please, forgive me.”

Her expression hardened. “You didn’t lose control. You lost your soul.”

Lightning cracked across the sky. The wind howled.

“I gave you everything,” she continued. “My love, my trust… even my silence. But you took it all. And when you couldn’t take anymore — you threw me to your monsters.”

Adabo fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, Adunni. Please, I’ll do anything…”

She looked past him, toward the city skyline. “You can start by giving back what’s mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“The inheritance,” she said. “The ₦1 billion that was never yours.”

His face went pale. “You knew?”

“I know everything now,” she whispered. “Including what the sharks didn’t finish.”

Her words were cold — but before he could speak, she stepped back toward the waves.

“Wait!” he shouted. “Don’t go!”

But it was too late. Her figure dissolved into the mist, leaving behind only the sound of the tide.

EPISODE 5 — THE RECKONING

Days later, Adabo’s empire began to crumble. Anonymous documents surfaced online — leaked bank records, proof of embezzlement, offshore accounts, and fraudulent investments.

Investigators found everything.

He was arrested on multiple charges — fraud, tax evasion, and obstruction of justice. His company’s shares plummeted overnight.

But the strangest part came during the property search.

When the police reopened the drained pond at Azure Towers, they found something buried beneath the glass floor.

A sealed box.

Inside: a medical file, an ultrasound photo, and a handwritten note in Adunni’s script.

“You thought I was gone. But mothers never leave their children.”

And beside it — a single gold bracelet engraved with the initials A.A., still damp with salt.

The media exploded. “The Pregnant Wife Who Returned,” headlines read. But no one ever saw her again.

Some say she fled the country, living quietly under a new name. Others believe the sea took her back — but not before she took everything that was rightfully hers.

As for Adabo, he sits in a Lagos prison cell, staring at the ocean he once admired, whispering the same words every night:

“Adunni, please… come back.”

But the only thing that ever answers is the distant sound of waves — and sometimes, when the moon is full, a woman’s lullaby drifting through the wind.

THE END — “THE SEA REMEMBERS.”