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WHEN THE HEART TREMBLEDEPISODE 11Amanda picked up her phone and called a psychologist she knew through one of her compan...
27/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 11

Amanda picked up her phone and called a psychologist she knew through one of her company’s wellness programs.

When she told Steve about the appointment, his reaction was immediate.

“Amanda, I’m not going,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want people to think I’m mad.”

Amanda gave a faint smile and sat beside him.

“Steve, going to therapy doesn’t mean you’re mad,” she said softly.
“It means you’re human. You’ve been through too much. You lost your ability to walk, your wife, your peace — anyone in your shoes would struggle. Please, just go once. If you don’t like her, I promise we’ll stop.”

He looked at her for a long time, his eyes glistening.

“You’ll be there with me?”
“Always,” Amanda replied, smiling gently.

After a few seconds of silence, Steve sighed.

“Fine. Once.”

Amanda smiled with relief. “That’s my Steve.”

She immediately called the cook.

“Please make spaghetti and fried fish — his favorite,” she instructed. “He needs to eat before we go.”

The cook nodded. “Yes, Miss Amanda.”

Just then, the nurse walked in, looking apologetic.

“Miss Amanda, I’m so sorry for yesterday. I had a family emergency. Mr. Steve granted me permission to leave.”

Amanda nodded, calm but firm.

“That’s alright, but now that Omotala is gone, I’ll need another live-in nurse. You two can share the workload so that one of you is always here. Steve shouldn’t be left alone for long, especially now.”

The nurse replied quickly, “No problem, ma’am. I’ll inform the hospital right away to send another capable hand.”

“Good,” Amanda said. She picked up her phone again and called Ivory.

“Hey babe,” she said. “Quick update, Please take care of the office while I handle things here.”
“Got it,” Ivory replied. “Just take care of Steve. We’ll manage the company.”

Two days later, the psychologist — a gentle, middle-aged woman named Dr. Uju — met privately with Steve and Amanda.
After the session, she took Amanda aside.

“Miss Amanda,” she began softly, “Steve’s progress will be very slow if he remains in that house. That place holds too many painful memories — every corner reminds him of what he lost. If you truly want him to recover, he needs a change of environment.”

Amanda nodded thoughtfully. “Then I’ll find a new place. Somewhere peaceful.”

She called Ivory immediately after.

“Babe, I need to buy a house — today or tomorrow.”

Ivory was shocked.

“A house? Mandy, why?”

Amanda explained everything. Ivory paused for a moment, then said,

“Why not bring him to your house? You’ve got space.”

Amanda shook her head firmly.

“No, Ivory. People will talk. They’ll say I sent Omotala packing to take her husband. I don’t want that. But please, tell the agent to find something close to my house so I can check on him easily.”

“Alright,” Ivory said. “Consider it done.”

Within a week, Amanda finalized the purchase of a beautiful, 6 bedroom modern bungalow with a pent house, just fifteen minutes from her own home. The house had a garden filled with flowers, wide corridors, and a sense of calm — a new beginning.

She moved Steve, his nurses, driver and the domestic staff there.
And slowly, day by day, Steve began to heal.

He started smiling again.
He began to talk more, and the laughter that had vanished for months returned — quietly at first, then louder.

One morning, he told Amanda during breakfast,

“Mandy, I think I’m ready to get back to work. I miss the office.”

Amanda’s face lit up instantly.

“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Steve replied with a small smile. “It’s time to live again.”

That week, S&A enterprise threw a small welcome-back party for him at the office. The staff clapped, laughed, and cheered as Steve gave a short, emotional speech from his wheelchair.

It was a beautiful moment — a sign that life was finally turning around.

Days turned into weeks, and Steve’s progress continued. His physiotherapy was going well, and hope was finally returning to his eyes. But one evening, fate decided to play another card.

After dropping Steve at home from his session, Amand was driving home in the dark, humming softly to the radio. She felt lighter, relieved that her friend was finally getting better.

But a few minutes into her drive, her car jolted suddenly. She pulled over and got out — one of her rear tire had gone flat.

“Oh no,” she sighed, looking around. The road was quiet, and the night breeze carried a soft chill.

She bent beside the car, frustrated, when headlights appeared behind her. A sleek black Benz slowed down and parked.
Her heart skipped for a moment — she was alone.

Then, a tall, handsome young man stepped out. His voice was calm, deep, and confident.

“Good evening,” he said with a smile. “Trouble with your car?”

Amanda relaxed a bit. “Yes, a flat tire. And I honestly don’t have the strength for this tonight.”

He chuckled warmly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you,” Amanda said, smiling faintly. “I’m Amanda, by the way.”
“I’m Sam,” he replied, already crouched by the tire.

He moved with quiet confidence, speaking gently as he worked. In no time, the tire was fixed.
“Thank you so much,” Amanda said sincerely.
“No need to thank me,” he smiled. “Just promise me one thing — that you’ll let me check on you sometime. You don’t meet stranded angels every day.”

Amanda laughed softly and gave him her number. As she drove off, she didn’t notice him standing by the road, watching her tail lights fade, whispering to himself,
“She’s perfect. If she’s single, I’ll make her mine.”

And just like that, a new chapter of Amanda’s life was about to begin — one filled with love and emotions.

To be continued...

Omaly Linda

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLEDEPISODE 10Steve’s once peaceful home had become a war zone.Each day began with arguments and ende...
26/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 10

Steve’s once peaceful home had become a war zone.
Each day began with arguments and ended in tears. The laughter that once echoed through the corridors had long disappeared, replaced by silence, bitterness, and regret.

Omotala’s nagging had become unbearable. The smallest things irritated her — the smell of Steve’s medication, the sound of his wheelchair, even the way he called her name.

Steve would often sit by the window, his eyes distant, watching her move around with coldness. He could feel her slipping away — and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

One evening, Amanda couldn’t take it anymore. She called Omotala and invited her over.
When Omotala arrived, Amanda welcomed her with a smile, trying to hide her worry. She offered her a drink and said softly,

“Omotala, thank you for coming. I wanted us to talk, woman to woman. I’ve noticed you haven’t been yourself lately — and Steve… he looks shattered.”

Omotala sighed, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Amanda, I’m not happy. I’m in pain. This marriage — with your dear friend — is not what I signed up for. I’m tired of being a caretaker instead of a wife. It’s draining me.”

Amanda leaned forward, trying to sound understanding.

“I know it’s been hard, Tala. But he has nurses taking care of him, domestic staff running the house — you don’t have to carry the burden alone.”

Omotala’s voice rose slightly.

“That’s not all, Amanda! You were there when the doctor said no s££x. For how long will this continue? A husband who can’t walk, can’t touch me, can’t… satisfy me — is that one a husband?”

Amanda froze, shocked at her bluntness.

“Omotala, please… don’t talk like that. Steve loves you. You two can find another way to—”

“No, Amanda!” Omotala snapped, her eyes fierce. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m done pretending. I want a divorce. I can’t waste my life because of a crippled man. Thank God he has you for emotional support — maybe you can continue being his angel.”

Amanda blinked, hurt by her tone but still calm.

“Omotala, marriage is for better or worse. You made vows before God. If you need a break, take a trip, breathe, and come back stronger.”

Omotala scoffed.

“Come back to what? To a man in a wheelchair? To a life without intimacy? Hell no. His height was the first thing that attracted me to him, and now he can’t even stand! He’s useless to me, Amanda. Completely useless.”

Amanda felt tears sting her eyes.

“You’re breaking his heart, Tala. Steve adores you.”

Omotala looked away, unmoved.

“Then he’ll have to stop. I’m done. I can’t fake love anymore.”

No matter what Amanda said, her mind was made up. That night, went to her room with a heavy heart, silently praying that Omotala would change her mind before doing something rash.

But it was already too late.
That same night, Omotala walked into Steve’s study with a cold, determined expression. She dropped a white envelope on his lap.

Steve looked up slowly. “What’s this?”

“Divorce papers,” she said, her voice firm but trembling. “Sign them, Steve. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired. Even if you give me nothing, I’ll still leave. I just want my life back.”

Steve sat silently for a while. His heart ached, but he didn’t beg. He had seen this coming. With a weak smile, he said quietly,

“If that’s your wish, who am I to hold you against it? But, Omotala, I won’t let you leave empty-handed. You’ll have what you need.”

He reached for a pen, his hand shaking slightly, and signed the papers without another word.

Omotala grabbed them quickly and dashed upstairs to start packing her things. Steve sat still in his wheelchair, staring blankly at the document that had just ended his marriage.

As he listened to the sound of zippers and boxes upstairs, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“So this is how it ends,” he whispered. “After all we shared… just like that.”

By morning, Omotala came downstairs with her suitcases. Steve was still in the same spot he’d been the previous night — pale, weak, and hollow-eyed.

She stood before him and muttered softly, avoiding his gaze,

“I’m sorry, Steve. Goodbye.”

She rolled her suitcases out without looking back.

The housekeeper, who had been watching quietly from the hallway, stood frozen. Moments later, she picked up her phone with trembling hands and called Amanda.

“Miss Amanda,” she said, her voice shaky. “Madam just packed her bags and left. Oga has refused to sleep since last night. He’s still sitting in his wheelchair… he hasn’t eaten or said a word.”

Amanda’s voice broke over the phone.

“Alright, I’m on my way. Don’t leave him alone. Please, just stay close to him until I get there.”

Amanda arrived thirty minutes later. The house was unusually quiet — the kind of silence that screams louder than noise.

She found Steve in the living room, still in his wheelchair, staring blankly at the door through which his wife had walked out.

“Steve…” she called softly, walking closer.

No response.

She knelt beside him, tears filling her eyes as she took his cold hand.

“Please, talk to me.”

Steve turned slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s gone, Mandy. She really left.”

“I know,” Amanda said gently. “But you’re not alone. You still have people who care about you.”

He smiled faintly — the kind of smile that hides deep pain.

“You don’t understand. When the one you love walks away, even the world starts to feel empty.”

Amanda held his hand tightly, her eyes glistening.

“Then we’ll fill that emptiness together. One day at a time.”

Steve looked at her — a long, searching look that carried gratitude, pain, and something else unspoken.

As Amanda helped him to his room, she muttered a prayer in her heart saying.
"God please come and calm this storm"

TO BE CONTINUED...

Omaly Linda

25/10/2025

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25/10/2025
WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED EPISODE 9Two months had passed since the arrest and trial of Fred, Uncle John, and their cohorts...
25/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 9

Two months had passed since the arrest and trial of Fred, Uncle John, and their cohorts. S & A Holdings was finally back on its feet. The scandal had brought the company unwanted fame, but it also made it stronger. Steve and Amanda worked tirelessly to restore its image — they stood side by side in every meeting, every decision, rebuilding what deceit had once tried to destroy.

Despite everything, Steve was healing — at least on the outside. He still went for his physiotherapy three times a week, pushing himself, believing that one day he would walk again without aid. Amanda often encouraged him with her calm smile and gentle words.

> “You’re doing great, Steve,” she’d say after each session.
“You’ll walk again — I believe it.”

Her faith became his strength. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

It was a bright Tuesday morning. Sunlight spilled into Steve’s bedroom as he finished his bath. His nurse had just stepped out to answer a call, and Omotala was busy on the phone in the living room. Steve, proud of the little progress he had made, decided to try something new — to stand without help.

He placed his hands on the edge of the sink, took a deep breath, and whispered to himself,

“Come on, Steve. You can do this.”

He lifted himself — slowly, painfully — and for a brief second, he stood tall. But the joy lasted only a heartbeat. His leg gave way. His hand slipped.

A sharp cry tore through the house.

“Omotala!”

There was a loud thud.

Within seconds, Omotala ran into the bathroom, her heart pounding. She froze when she saw him sprawled on the cold floor, motionless, water still running.

“Jesus! Steve!” she screamed. “Somebody help!”

The nurse rushed back, and together they lifted him, but Steve groaned in pain, his voice breaking,

“My back… oh God, my back…”

He was rushed to the hospital immediately.

For three days, Omotala barely slept. She paced the hospital corridor, her heart torn between fear and exhaustion. Amanda visited every day, praying silently in the waiting area.

On the third day, Dr. Philip finally called them into his office. His face was grave.

“Mrs. Steve, Miss Amanda… I won’t sugarcoat this. The fall worsened the injury on Steve’s spinal cord. We tried everything, but the damage is more severe now.”

Omotala’s hand trembled. “Doctor, what… what are you saying?”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor sighed. “He might never walk again. And…” he hesitated, “for his own health and safety, I strongly advise that he abstains from any sexual activity. It could cause severe complications.”

The room went silent. Amanda’s breath caught. Omotala’s face hardened, emotion draining away.

Three months later, the atmosphere in the house had changed completely.
Omotala was no longer the doting wife who once prayed beside his hospital bed. Her patience had burned out, leaving only bitterness and resentment.

She began to complain about everything — the meals, the smell of medicine, the sound of Steve’s wheelchair. She fired three nurses, yelling that they were “lazy” and “incompetent.”

One evening, after dinner, she exploded.

“This is not what I signed up for, Steve! I’m not a nurse. I didn’t marry you to become your caretaker!”

Steve sat quietly in his wheelchair, staring at her with tears in his eyes.

“Baby, please… don’t talk like that.”

“Don’t tell me what to say!” she snapped. “Look at me — do I look happy? You can’t walk, you can’t perform in bed, you can’t even defend me. Steve, I’m tired! You’re ruining my life!”

He looked down, voice trembling.

“I didn’t choose this, Omotala. I didn’t ask for this pain.”

“Oh please!” she shouted, storming off. “I can’t keep living like this. I’m dying slowly in this house!”

That night, Steve lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His chest tightened with silent sobs. He turned his face to the pillow and cried, the tears soaking through the fabric.

“God,” he whispered, “what’s the essence of being alive when I’m useless? Please… just take my life.”

His voice broke, swallowed by the darkness.

Days turned into weeks. The once cheerful Steve became withdrawn. He barely spoke in meetings. Even Amanda noticed his fading energy.

One afternoon, she walked into his office without knocking. Steve was sitting by the window, staring blankly at the city below. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale.

“Steve,” she said softly, closing the door behind her. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

She walked closer, sitting across from him. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing. I know you, Steve. I’ve seen you fight for this company, for your life. This silence isn’t you.”

Steve’s eyes slowly lifted to hers — and for the first time, Amanda saw raw pain in them, not just sadness.

Tears welled up as he spoke in a broken whisper.

“Mandy… I want to die.”

Amanda froze. Her heart pounded. “Don’t say that, Steve—”

“What’s the point?” he interrupted, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t walk. My wife hates me. I’m just a burden to everyone. Every night, I wish I didn’t wake up the next morning.”

Amanda’s throat tightened. She got up, knelt beside him, and took his trembling hand.

“Steve, listen to me. You are not a burden. You’re alive because your story isn’t over yet. Don’t let pain make you forget who you are.”

Steve covered his face, sobbing silently.

“I’ve lost everything, Mandy. Even myself.”

Amanda’s eyes glistened as she whispered,

“Then let me help you find yourself again.”

But as she held his hand, a chilling feeling crept into her chest — that something far worse was brewing in the shadows.

Something that would break them all…

To be continued…

I'm sorry for not posting since.

Omaly Linda

Technology Opportunity people
22/10/2025

Technology Opportunity people

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED EPISODE 8Two days had passed since Fred’s shocking arrest. The city had begun to breathe again, ...
22/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 8

Two days had passed since Fred’s shocking arrest. The city had begun to breathe again, but Amanda still felt like something deep inside her hadn’t settled. She sat in her living room, sipping coffee and staring at the early morning sun through her window, when her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Omotala.

“Please, Amanda, can we meet? There’s something I need to say — face to face.”

Amanda’s fingers hovered above the phone for a moment. She took a deep breath and replied, “Alright. Tell me where.”

They met that evening in a quiet private lounge on the island. The soft jazz music and dim lighting couldn’t hide the tension that filled the air. Amanda arrived first, sitting calmly but expectantly. A few minutes later, Omotala walked in, her eyes swollen, her face pale with guilt.

Without a word, she went straight to Amanda and fell to her knees.

“Amanda, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I should have known better. I should have trusted you. I let lies destroy our friendship, and I allowed myself to become a weapon in their hands.”

Amanda quickly stood and helped her up, her voice soft but steady.

“Omotala, please stand up. It’s all in the past now.”

Tears streamed down Omotala’s cheeks.

“I was so ashamed. I couldn’t face you, not after everything I said and did. I accused you of a crime you didn’t commit. You had every right to hate me, but instead, you still fought to save my husband.”

Amanda’s eyes glistened, her lips trembling slightly.

“Omotala, we’ve both been through enough pain. You were misled, manipulated. Let’s just promise each other that no matter what comes, we will never let outsiders break us apart again.”

Omotala nodded, clutching Amanda’s hands tightly. They hugged, and for the first time in a long while, peace began to settle between them.

The next morning, Lagos was still waking up when Detective Martins’ voice came through Amanda’s phone.

“Miss Amanda, we’ve found him. Uncle John.”

Amanda’s heart skipped.

“Where?”

“Mainland. An uncompleted building. He was trying to regroup some street thugs. Apparently, he planned another attack on Steve.”

Within hours, police sirens echoed through the deserted area. Officers surrounded the half-built structure. Uncle John was dragged out, looking thinner and wilder than before. His eyes burned with bitterness.

Detective Martins looked at him coldly and said.

"Your game is up Mr John"

Uncle John smirked darkly but said nothing.

At the station, under pressure and evidence, he broke down and confessed.

“Jealousy made me do it,” he said bitterly. “Steve had everything — the company, the success, the name. I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to destroy him, and anyone close to him.”
Then inherit the company as his only surviving uncle.

When Amanda heard his confession, she couldn’t help but shake her head. “Jealousy,” she whispered. “The same seed that ruins families.”

Two weeks later, the courtroom was filled. The air was thick with tension and whispers as the accused were brought in — Uncle John, Fred, and the disgraced Inspector Dele. None of them could look Steve in the eye.

The judge read out the charges: attempted murder, kidnapping, and financial fraud. After testimonies and confessions, the gavel struck.

“The accused are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison with no option of fine.”

Steve exhaled sharply, gripping Amanda’s hand beside him. Omotala covered her face, crying softly. It was finally over.

Detective Martins turned to Amanda with a proud smile.

“You did it. You fought for the truth till the end.”

Amanda nodded humbly. “We did it together, Detective. You, Ivory, Steve… everyone who didn’t give up.”

That evening, Amanda hosted Steve, Omotala, and Ivory at her house. The atmosphere was warm and filled with laughter. Ivory grilled fish, Steve brought wine, and Omotala kept teasing Amanda about her serious face.

“You need to smile more, Mandy,” she said, nudging her playfully.

Amanda chuckled. “I’m trying, Omo. It’s been a while since I felt this much peace.”

Steve raised his glass.

“To friendship, forgiveness, and new beginnings.”

“To peace,” Amanda added softly.

They all clinked glasses, their laughter mingling with the night breeze. For once, everything seemed perfect — the calm after the storm.

What Steve does not know, is that another problem is somewhere brewing.

To be continued…

Omaly Linda

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED EPISODE 7The atmosphere inside the State CID headquarters was thick with tension. The large room...
21/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 7

The atmosphere inside the State CID headquarters was thick with tension. The large room was quiet except for the faint humming of the ceiling fan and the occasional sound of boots from officers patrolling the corridor. Everyone sat in anxious silence — Steve, still in his wheelchair, Omotala seated beside him, Amanda with her hands clasped tightly on her lap, and Ivory trying to stay calm.

Detective Martins walked in with a file under his arm and a calm but authoritative stride. His deep voice broke the silence.

“I welcome you all here today. Before anything, I want to thank Miss Amanda for hiring me to carry out this investigation. Many people would have given up, but she didn’t. She fought for truth — not for fame or revenge, but for justice and the safety of her loved ones.”

Amanda lowered her gaze as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve looked at her, guilt flickering across his face. Omotala squeezed her purse, her palms sweaty.

Martins continued.

“Now, I’ll reveal the man behind the mask — and his cohort who turned this whole case into a nightmare.”

He nodded to one of his men, and within seconds, two officers walked in, dragging Fred — Steve’s cousin and trusted PA. His face was swollen, a deep cut at the corner of his lips, and his wrists were bound with steel handcuffs.

The moment Steve saw him, his world stopped.

“No… No! That can’t be true,” he shouted, struggling to move from his wheelchair. “Fred? My own cousin? You can’t hurt a fly!” This must be a mistake.

Detective Martins took a slow breath.

“Why? Because he’s your blood? I’m sorry, Mr. Steve, but the truth is bitter. Fred, your cousin, was behind your attempted murder, your wife’s kidnap, and this morning’s ambush.”

The room exploded in shock. Amanda gasped, Omotala covered her mouth, and Ivory’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Martins wasn’t done. He dropped another bombshell.

“And guess who helped him? Inspector Dele.”

Amanda nearly fell from her seat. “What?! Dele?” she cried out, trembling.

>l “Yes,” Martins said coldly. “The same officer you called when Omotala was missing, the same officer you interrogated you about Omotala, the same officer who convinced Omotala that you were jealous and dangerous. He manipulated her into lying about her route and painted you as the villain.”

He turned to Omotala, his tone firm.

“Madam, you lied about where you passed on the day of the kidnap. You altered the course of this case. Why?”

Omotala’s lips quivered. “I... I was confused,” she stammered. “They told me Amanda hired men to kidnap me... I thought they were helping me. I swear, I was scared.”

Martins shook his head.

“Fear is understandable, but ignorance of the law is not an excuse. You allowed innocent blood to be stained with suspicion.”

Amanda couldn’t hold back anymore. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Steve turned to her, shame washing over him.

“Amanda…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

But Amanda said nothing. She just stared at Fred, her heart pounding painfully.

“Why, Fred?” Steve’s voice cracked. “What did I ever do to you? You’ve lived with me before I got you an apartment, I treated you like a brother, trusted you with everything I had — and you repay me like this?”

Fred lowered his head, tears falling.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “It wasn’t me… it was my Dad who pushed me. He said you didn’t deserve to succeed while his own family suffered. He told me everything you own should have been his.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Uncle John?”

Martins nodded. “Yes. Your uncle — and Fred’s father — masterminded the entire plan. He’s currently on the run, but we’ll get him soon. He’s the one who instructed Inspector Dele to cover up traces and make sure Amanda took the fall.”

Gasps filled the room again. Ivory clutched Amanda’s hand tightly.

“Meanwhile,” Martins continued, “the person who’s been calling you, Amanda — the one who sounded like a warning voice — turned out to be your company’s gateman.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yes,” Martins said. “He once caught Fred making strange calls late at night. He suspected something but was too scared to speak out because of Steve’s relationship with Fred. Out of fear, he bought a new SIM and started calling you anonymously to warn you.”

Steve turned slowly toward Amanda. “No wonder the voice sounded familiar,” he murmured. “I thought I was imagining it.”

Detective Martins closed the file and stood tall.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the truth has been revealed. But this is not over. None of you is permitted to travel for now. You’ll all be called upon for court hearings and further statements. Justice must take its full course.”

He turned to Omotala again.

“Madam, you altered evidence and gave false testimony. When the time comes, you will answer for it. Ignorance won’t save you.”

With that, he nodded to his men and walked out of the room, leaving behind a silence that could break glass.

Steve turned to Amanda. His eyes glistened with regret.

“Mandy,” he said softly, voice thick with emotion, “thank you… for everything. For believing in the truth when I didn’t. For saving my life, even after I failed to defend you.”

Amanda forced a weak smile, her voice trembling.

“That’s what we do for friends, Steve — even when it hurts.”

She stood, Ivory following behind. Omotala couldn’t meet her eyes; she bowed her head in shame, whispering to herself, “I’m sorry… Amanda, I’m so sorry.”

At home later that night, Omotala kept on apologising, Steve turned to her.

“Omotala,” he said quietly, “I know you were scared, but the person you owe an apology to isn’t me — it’s Amanda. She’s not your enemy.”

Omotala nodded tearfully. “I know,” she whispered, “but I’m so ashamed of myself.”

Meanwhile, Amanda and Ivory sat in Amanda’s living room, exhaustion heavy on their faces.

Ivory broke the silence.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I don’t want you sitting here crying alone.”

Amanda smiled weakly. “You know me too well, Ivy. Thank you… for everything.”

Ivory grinned. “For you, my dearest bestie, I can do anything — except breaking up with my boyfriend Lawrence.”

Amanda chuckled softly. “You’ll never change.”

Ivory stood up and clapped her hands. “Now, enough sadness. Let’s end this night properly — with barbecue, cold wine, and some old Nollywood movies. You need to laugh again.”

Amanda smiled for the first time in days. “Then let’s do it.”

As they both walked out to the balcony, the evening breeze swept through the house. For the first time in weeks, Amanda felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time — peace.

But deep down, Detective Martins’ words echoed in her mind —

“Uncle John is still out there…”

And she knew…
This was not the end.

To be continued…

Omaly Linda

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLEDEPISODE 6Three days later, the tension in Amanda’s life had grown heavier than the humid Lagos ai...
20/10/2025

WHEN THE HEART TREMBLED

EPISODE 6

Three days later, the tension in Amanda’s life had grown heavier than the humid Lagos air. Her nerves were stretched thin, and sleep had become a stranger. Every time her phone rang, her heart would leap in fear.

That Thursday afternoon, a message came in from Detective Martins:

“We need to meet. Bring Ivory.”

Amanda immediately forwarded it to Ivory, and within an hour, they were seated across from Martins in a quiet restaurant tucked deep inside Ikeja GRA. He looked grave — his usually calm eyes now sharp and calculating.

“Detective, you sound urgent,” Amanda said, gripping her handbag nervously.
Martins opened a brown folder, spread a few printed documents on the table, and leaned forward.

“Based on the materials you both gave me,” he began slowly, “and the investigation I’ve conducted over the past seventy-two hours, I’ve confirmed that someone has been moving funds from S&A’s foreign accounts in Steve’s name.”

Amanda’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. “What?”

“Yes,” Martins continued, tapping the papers. “Over five hundred thousand dollars have been transferred in small, unnoticeable bits — to offshore accounts. And the signature authorizing the transfers… doesn’t belong to Steve.”

Ivory’s mouth fell open. “Then who signed them?”

Martins looked up, his tone dropping lower. “Someone who has been faking Steve’s signature for months. Someone very close — close enough to know his handwriting, his schedule, his passwords… everything.”

Amanda pressed her trembling hand against her mouth. “My God…”

He continued, his voice steady. “His plan was simple but deadly. Kill Steve in an accident, kidnap Omotala, eliminate her, and then frame you, Amanda, for the crimes. Once you’re arrested, he takes over everything — the company, the accounts, the legacy.”

Amanda felt her breath falter. The room suddenly felt smaller. “Detective… who could possibly do something so evil?”

Martins paused, studying both women closely. “Calm down, Miss Amanda. We’re still gathering final proof. But we’ve confirmed that this man isn’t working alone. He’s in partnership with a police officer — the same one who manipulated Omotala into believing you kidnapped her. They told her to lie about her route and fed her stories to confuse her mind.”

Amanda’s hand went cold. “So Omotala truly was brainwashed…”

“Yes,” Martins said. “They wanted chaos. They wanted her unstable so she wouldn’t question what happened. And Miss Amanda,” he leaned closer, “think carefully — who would gain the most if you, Steve, and Omotala were all out of the picture?”

Amanda stared blankly, her mind racing through faces — board members, relatives, friends. She shook her head helplessly. “No one"

Martins’ lips curled
He leaned back. “I dont want to mention names yet, but my men are already watching them closely. We have information that another attempt on Steve’s life will happen tomorrow, on his way to work.”

Amanda gasped. “Oh my God! Then we have to warn him!”

Martins raised a hand. “No. If we warn him, they’ll vanish before we can catch them. I’ve set a trap. My men will be stationed around Steve’s route — unmarked vehicles, plain clothes. We’ll catch them in the act.”

Amanda was shaking now. “Detective, please, I don’t care about any company or money. I just don’t want Steve hurt again.”

Martins looked at her kindly. “Miss Amanda, I promise — nothing will happen to him. But you must trust me. Stay out of sight. Let this play out.”

Amanda nodded weakly, tears glistening in her eyes. Ivory held her hand, whispering, “He’ll be okay, Mandy. I believe him.”

The next morning dawned grey and silent, the sky heavy with an approaching storm.

At exactly 8:00 a.m., Steve’s phone rang. It was Fred.

“Sir,” Fred said, sounding oddly calm, “I’m sorry, but there’s a family emergency. I won’t be able to make it to work today. I’ve sent a few pending files to your mail.”

Steve sighed. “Alright. Hope everything’s fine.”

“Yes, sir,” Fred replied. “Everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t.

Omotala, who was standing beside Steve, overheard and said softly, “Since Fred isn’t going, I’ll come with you today. It’s been long since I saw the office.”

Steve smiled faintly. “That would be nice.”

Within minutes, they were on the road in his black SUV.

But barely ten minutes after they left the compound, everything went to hell.

Two black Hilux vans screeched out of a side street, blocking the road. Before Steve’s driver could react, heavily armed men jumped out, faces masked, guns blazing.

“Move! Move! Get out of the car!” one shouted.

The driver froze, his hands shaking. Steve grabbed Omotala’s arm. “Stay down!”

The assailants yanked the car doors open, dragging the driver out. They were about to force Steve and Omotala into another vehicle when —

Gunshots split the air.

Dozens of men in plain clothes swarmed from nearby alleys and cars — the police and Martins’ team. The air was filled with shouts, tires screeching, bullets echoing off metal.

“Drop your weapons!” Martins roared, stepping forward, his badge flashing. “Lagos State Police! You’re surrounded!”

In a matter of minutes, it was over. The kidnappers were pinned to the ground, handcuffed, and disarmed.

Steve sat in shock, clutching Omotala’s trembling hands. “What’s going on? Who are they?”

Martins walked up calmly, removing his cap. “Mr. Steve, I’m Detective Martins Okafor, private investigator. Miss Amanda hired me to find out what happened to you.”

Steve blinked, still dazed. “Amanda? She did?”

“Yes,” Martins said. “And because of her, you’re alive. These men were hired to finish what the first ‘accident’ couldn’t.”

Steve’s throat went dry. “My God…”

Martins turned to his men. “Get him back into his car. Take him straight to the station. I’ll meet you there.”

He then stepped aside, dialing Amanda’s number.

She picked up immediately. “Detective? What happened?”

Martins exhaled. “Amanda, it’s over. We’ve got them. Steve is safe.”

There was silence on the other end — then a sharp gasp followed by quiet sobs.

“Thank you,” she whispered brokenly. “Thank you so much.”

“Meet us at the station,” he said softly. “It’s time to see who the real enemy is.”

As Martins ended the call, he looked at the men being dragged into the police vehicle and said, let's get this over and done with.

The web of lies was finally starting to unravel.

To be continued…

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