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The Doctor’s Second Love

“Good day, ma’am.” He greeted while examining my injured leg. “And here goes someone who doesn’t wear stilettos the right way.” I narrowed my eyes in response to his words, his voice was such a fine one, the sort that would make a woman moan if it meets her ears in night whispers. Alessandro Greco, a dedicated Italian doctor temporarily transferred to Ivory Coast, crosses paths with Sita Kouassi, an enigmatic African politician and philanthropist harbouring a clandestine life as a spy. Drawn together by circumstance, their initial encounter blossoms into a passionate affair amidst the complexities of love and duty. However, as secrets unravel and betrayals surface, their relationship is put to the ultimate test. Can their love endure the shadows of deception and the dangers lurking in the mist, or will the high road they traverse tear them apart? This captivating tale delves into the intricacies of romance, intrigue, and the indomitable power of love in the heart of modern-day Africa.

Mackins · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
53 Chs

A Problem

I sat down. Standing longer than is necessary with my injured leg is such a burden, and I wouldn't bear such a burden even if it means breaking the rules of our society.

"I forgot to ask what gave you that injury." He gestured towards my leg.

"You limped into your living room like you intended to steal a wall clock."

"Stop," I uttered with a smile.

Baba doesn't mind getting me flattered even in the middle of business.

He gave me a nod and freed his fingers from rubbing each other. "Two agents were caught by the folks we are dealing with, and held in a secret military facility."

My eyes narrowed on their own. We've been in the cool business of leaking a few clips of politicians doing their dirty thing, a few scandals on some big bankers, and a few other kinds of stuff we got on some police and military chiefs, too, then, the ones on a handful of business moguls.

"Okay," his hands went up in the air.

"You know I won't go on asking and being kind."

Kind? I brushed that word off my mind. Our country was at war for years. I witnessed the entire madness well before it came to an end.

We rose gently to our feet to gain the height we've gained thus far, and we've not known the word, kind all the while.

"So, back to business." He does the talking a lot whenever he comes in contact with me, though I know him to be the most reserved personality among us. "You are the only one who can get them out of there."

I missed a breath. Of course, I am the only one amongst us with the influence to do that, but this time, we both knew it wouldn't be a thing of influence, so, the other part of me that was groomed by a secret KGB agent who fled the agency and existed amongst us some years ago, would be needed.

"But I have a leg injury." I lamented without being loud.

"We both know you can run with a bullet wound on your back." He snapped.

"That's nothing to do with my records." I retorted.

"I saw you once with these eyes of mine." He rose, his face clenched in rage. "We don't have to lose them, and we can't let those men extract anything from them."

He walked out of the room. I forgot to mention he had a walking stick with him.

It's assumed to be for fashion's sake, but the fellow has a bullet wound on the left lap. It was healed a long time ago, but the after-effects were yet to let him rest.

"Shit." I smacked my table. "How could they be that reckless?"

My eyes darted towards the seat on which he was nestled a minute ago, and there was a folded note on it. I left my desk and made for it, limping till I got to it.

"He left me a damn note." I chuckled and unwrapped the paper. "With his weird writing."

I returned to my desk to decode the writing.

Amos and Tee were abducted and held hostage in a secret military facility. Find out where the facility is, and inform headquarters. Baba

A simple note with a straight mission. Maybe they wouldn't need me to be physical like I would always be. Maybe Baba would handle this by himself, while I continue living life.

I tore the paper and folded it.

"Ma'am, have a call." My handmaiden announced.

"From who?" I asked.

"From the Honorable's office." She replied.

"Tell him to drop a message, I'm sick." I hollered back.

"Okay, ma'am." She said, and that was it.

***

Was informed you were admitted to the hospital right after you left my place. I had no idea you had an accident on your way home, though I blame it on you for being in a hurry to flee from under my roof. I heard you left the hospital already.

I have no idea how credible that is, but we'll have a party meeting tonight, if you can manage your leg and come, then, I will know you accepted my offer of membership.

Hon. Yapi had become good at bugging me with messages and invitations whenever he couldn't hear from me on the phone.

I tossed my phone on my bed and lay there, but not without letting out a gentle cry.

With the medication prescribed by the Whiteman doctor, my foot doesn't hurt that bad anymore, but not when I fall for one of my reckless hubbies.

My phone beeped once more. I reached out to it and grabbed it like always. It was Baba. He dropped his text.

An insider informed us of a secret party meeting. It is strictly an invite. Inform me if you were invited. And don't fail with your assignment. Baba

I scuffed. I didn't want to have anything to do with the meeting, though invited, but if that would be my way of discovering the secret military facility where my dear comrades, Amos and Tee were being held captive, then, it must be there.

I tapped into Hon. Yapi's message and settled for my response: It wasn't a serious one, though. The doctor had to discharge me almost after inspecting the injury…by the way, I am pleased to be one of your guests, and I pray the meeting will be a success.

I am willing to be part of your campaign as long as you will keep your side of a bargain we are yet to strike. Thanks.

I sent my words off and dropped the phone next to my pillow. With my injured foot, I knew I wouldn't wear stilettos to the meeting. I'd rather be on flat sandals, and if I may, I would use an aid to drag pity.

Pa Koffi's amp banged a loud warning, and gently, it dished out what Pa Koffi had to bother the estate tonight; a piece from Don Williams.

I only managed to shut my ears and slip an inch index finger into each of my ears, but that didn't stop the song from sinking into my head.

Some broken hearts never mend. Some memories never end. Some tears never dry. My love for you never dies.