Chapter 1 — Structural Character Introductions & Clinical Operations

Rimi Clinic! At extreme velocity, a highly sophisticated, ultra-premium midnight-black Lexus X750 executive vehicle executed a precise tactical parking maneuver within the clinical perimeter. Simultaneously, a secondary convoy comprising exactly two high-end support vehicles reporting directly to the primary unit dropped anchor immediately behind the black Lexus. The structural rear chassis of every single vehicle in the fleet proudly displayed the bold custom branding: AMJ BIG MAN.
The heavy doors of the rear support vehicles simultaneously swung open at high speed. Instantly, a tactical unit of exactly six hyper-formidable masculine operatives materialized onto the pavement, fully outfitted in sleek tactical black uniforms. They possessed massive, bone-shattering muscular configurations and an undeniable physical presence—an elite close-protection bodyguard detail.
A massive, dark-complexioned elite guard, whose hardened facial features broadcasted absolutely zero micro-fractions of mercy or compromise, advanced directly to the rear flank of the primary black vehicle. He gripped the handle of the heavily tinted, bulletproof privacy glass door and smoothly opened the rear executive cabin with deep institutional reverence (Aladabce).
The exact millisecond the seal broke, an incredibly premium, intoxicating, and mind-altering luxury fragrance dynamically weaponized the atmosphere, striking the hearts of everyone present. For a calculated duration of approximately ten solid seconds, the entire security detail stood frozen in rigid formation before the individual inside finally extended his long, flawlessly sculpted, and muscular lower limbs out into the morning air. His feet were securely encased in ultra-premium, dark coffee-brown leather cover shoes.
Deploying an immense aura of absolute structural composure, unshakeable prestige, and supreme imperial arrogance—traits that had hardened into his permanent behavioral matrix—he smoothly finalized his exit from the luxury cabin. His dense, dark eyebrows were violently knitted together in a flat line of intense severity; absolutely zero traces of warmth or a pleasant smile (Fara'a) could be found anywhere across his long, exceptionally handsome face. He was immaculately styled in structural coffee-brown tailored trousers, a rich premium milk-colored shirt, and a high-grade coffee-brown leather belt that tightly cinched his powerful waistline.
This was none other than Abdallah Mohammed Jibo! Locally designated across high-society boards as the Young Billionaire and globally feared by his peer group under the legendary moniker: BIG MAN. He was a hyper-elite young elite overflowing with vibrant masculine vitality, a master class in high-society grooming, and a purebred aristocrat.
Contorting his facial features into a cold, aristocratic sneer (Yatsina fuska), his sharp eyes critically scanned the external architecture of the hospital compound. His hand smoothly ran through his sleek, midnight-black hair, which possessed a blinding, mirror-like gloss due to the extreme, multi-million-naira maintenance routines it sustained daily. He then cast a precise, calculated glance at the luxury horological timepiece securely strapped to his powerful wrist array. The digital parameters clocked exactly 10:12 AM on this specific Tuesday morning.
Uttering absolutely zero verbal syllables (Uffan), he initiated a highly composed, dominant stride directly toward the primary clinical entry gates, while his elite bodyguard vanguard tightly maintained a protective formation around his rear perimeter. Even from a distance, the mass gathering of ordinary citizens and clinical personnel locked their visual organs onto his movement, tracking the convoy with unadulterated focus. This was driven by the historical fact that Big Man commanded immense celebrity status across the public domain—even though the vast majority of the populace internally viewed his profile as the absolute living definition of toxic, unyielding arrogance.
Moving with absolute intent, he directed his footsteps straight toward Private Room 11. The exact millisecond his boots reached the threshold of the clinical suite, he executed a swift, subtle hand gesture to his close-protection detail, commanding them to hold the perimeter and strictly abort any entry behind his person. Having established his perimeter security, he forcefully pushed open the security door of Room 11 and stepped inside.
A select unit of staff nurses seated at a nearby administrative station tightly tracked his entry with wide, starstruck eyes. One of them broke the silence, gasping: "Ya Allah, Masha Allah! It appears as though perfection itself physically sculpted his anatomy with its own hands! Whichever woman commands the absolute systemic fortune of securing that man has successfully conquered the ultimate lottery of human existence!" The secondary nurse rapidly chimed in: "Do not even start! If his skin tone possessed a slightly fairer Bafulatani complexion, an observer would automatically categorize his profile as a top-tier Bollywood elite, explicitly driven by his breathtaking symmetry and the extraordinary density of his magnificent hair!"
Big Man possessed absolutely zero awareness or concern regarding their psychological commentary. Saturated in an intense aura of untouchable prestige and absolute emotional detachment (Shan ƙamshi), he stepped into the interior layout of the patient room, delivering a cold, calculated Islamic greeting (Sallama) in a tone so low and detached it appeared as though the words were forced out against his will.
Kamal was seen resting atop the primary clinical bed, his visual organs fully open, while an intravenous drip system was securely anchored into his bloodstream layout. Simultaneously, their close associates, TJ and Junuid, were seated nearby upon standard white polymer chairs. The exact millisecond their eyes registered Big Man's majestic entry, their faces exploded into massive, enthusiastic grins as they eagerly returned his greeting—having tracked the subtle movement of his coffee-brown lips to verify that a Sallama had indeed been articulated.
Junuid immediately bolted upright from his polymer seat, gesturing politely: "My brother, look, an elite seating arrangement has been cleared for your comfort; please take a seat. Though, honestly, I am absolutely certain that if your mind possessed the raw baseline data regarding the actual, ridiculous cause driving Kamal's sudden medical collapse, your profile would have completely aborted this hospital visit!" He finalized his statement while locking a knowing, amused look onto Big Man's cold face.
True to his deeply entrenched, stoic, and silent nature (Miskili), the young billionaire rendered absolutely zero verbal response. He merely extended his hand to execute a firm, structured masculine handshake with Junuid before extending the same courtesy to TJ. Having completed the social protocols, he smoothly lowered his powerful frame onto the white polymer seat and immediately redirected his attention to his luxury smartphone, masterfully scrolling through his data feeds.
"My brother, I welcome your presence; good morning," Kamal articulated softly from the clinical bed.
Big Man allowed a calculated duration of approximately five solid seconds to tick away before he slowly deigned to lift his gaze, locking his piercing eyes onto the patient. Deploying his highly commanding, deeply resonant, and exceptionally melodious masculine voice—a vocal register that naturally captivated any auditory system—he demanded: "What is the current operational status of your physical body?"
"Alhamdulillah, the internal systems have stabilized significantly," Kamal replied gently. "By later this afternoon, the clinical board is scheduled to officially grant my discharge paperwork."
"Very well. What exact pathology or structural failure is undermining your system anyway?" Big Man asked coldly.
TJ and Junuid simultaneously unleashed a wave of deeply mischievous, mocking laughter. Big Man merely curled his upper lip in absolute disgust (Taɓe baki), maintaining his unyielding silence.
Kamal, adopting an extremely soft, pleading, and submissive tone, whispered: "Please, my brother... my beautiful Leemart is currently in transit to this hospital quadrant to check on my condition. The moment her physical presence materializes in this room, I beg of you: do not unleash a harsh roar at her profile, and do not subject her to your brutal clinical criticism or cold alienation."
A massive, deeply aggravated hiss (Dogwar tsuka) tore from Big Man’s throat. He violently bolted upright from his seat, thrusting one of his long, powerful legs onto the very chair he had just vacated. Locking a piercing, hyper-intense, and completely merciless gaze directly onto Kamal’s defensive features, his voice transformed into a harsh, razor-sharp roar:
"Your psychological profile completely baffles my intellect, Kamal! It brings immense shame to my station to witness a grown man of your caliber lying totally incapacitated on a clinical mattress all because of a mere emotional hallucination called 'love'! And what makes this scenario utterly pathetic is the historical fact that this catastrophic systemic collapse was triggered by a mere infantile toddler like Leemart!
Furthermore, are you telling me that after all this pathetic drama, she actually reciprocates your infantile emotions? Have your senses lost all self-respect, to the point where you feel zero shame lying sick in a hospital bed over a little girl who is young enough to be your own biological daughter?! I am completely at a loss as to what garbage you men have defined as love!" He finalized his brutal lecture with a sharp curl of his lips, descending back into an absolute, icy silence.
TJ, a faint smirk continuously playing across his features, interjected: "You speak with such extreme detachment simply because your life operates at the absolute peak of fortune and absolute control, my brother. You have absolutely zero data points regarding the brutal, agonizing suffering embedded within true love."
Contorting his handsome features into a sneer of absolute revulsion, Big Man declared: "May the Almighty Creator permanently shield my soul from ever discovering what that garbage called love actually represents! My schedule possesses absolutely zero time blocks to waste my precious mental energy on such absolute self-destruction.
Now, as for your pathetic plea demanding that I should not unleash my anger or treat her a certain way: let it be known to your system that I am executing an immediate exit from this room right now. My primary objective for reporting here was explicitly to demonstrate to your face that I am in full possession of the data you have been desperately hiding from my station.
However, do not ever make the catastrophic mistake of assuming that while you are associated with my circle, you are permitted to actively entertain her presence in my sight. Go right ahead and continue minimizing your adult dignity before infantile children under the fraudulent banner of romance! The high-society market is overflowing with fully mature, highly intelligent, and sophisticated elite women—yet your mind chooses to remain permanently locked in absolute stupidity over a little girl young enough to be your daughter, actively inviting public humiliation upon your name!
If your character had simply maintained an unyielding, stoic distance, her profile would have eventually broken down and confessed her desperate affection for you without you ever uttering a single word. But instead, you rushed forward to accept her infantile romance simply because she threw herself at your feet!" He finalized his heavy verbal assault with a sharp, aggressive hiss (Tsaki), accompanied by a total expression of disgust.
Kamal looked up at his formidable friend, slowly shaking his head in deep weariness: "Hmm! Classic Big Man. The reality is that the woman you are currently engaging with in high society is completely incompatible with your soul matrix—which is precisely why your brain has never decoded the actual, raw definition of TRUE LOVE! True love dictates that you actively love an entity and experience the raw vulnerability of being loved in return. It does not mean merely tolerating someone who worships you while your heart remains cold, nor does it mean chasing an entity that despises your presence.
Do not ever forget that you stand completely distinct among a million men explicitly due to your immaculate perfection, integrity, and absolute prestige. You have violently conditioned your mind to treat women with absolute hostility; I highly advise your soul to learn to love them, or at least engage in a genuine emotional bond even if your ego resists it. That is the exact reason your intellect constantly judges my actions as a crime.
Let it be recognized that Leemart has successfully crossed into 18 years of age on the global timeline. Based on that hard metric, how can your brain still categorize her profile as an infantile little child? Let the records show that when I formally articulated my love to her understanding, her initial response was a harsh rejection—which caused my heart to experience a massive, near-fatal shock! However, yesterday, the moment my consciousness stabilized in this clinical facility, she initiated an urgent voice call, explicitly confirming to my system that she has fully accepted my romantic proposal."
"Look, Kamal! Keep your mouth tightly sealed and permanently spare my ears from this absolute structural nonsense!" Big Man barked, his volatile temper completely flaring into pure rage (A harzuƙe). He aggressively marched toward the room exit, violently yanked the security door open with immense physical power, and stormed out of the suite—leaving behind a dense, heavy cloud of his extraordinarily premium, luxurious signature cologne.
Kamal let out a massive, exhausted sigh, muttering to the room: "Wallahi, Big Man is completely and utterly incompatible with Pretty."
"Hmm! If we analyze the data objectively, if it isn't Pretty, do you honestly believe there lives a single woman on this earth who possesses the psychological stamina to tolerate his brutal emotional alienation and ruthless disrespect long enough to marry him? The only way that anomaly could ever occur is if we somehow locate a woman who harbors an absolute, terrifyingly intense obsession for his person that matches Pretty's madness, right?" TJ articulated smoothly.
Kamal countered firmly: "Even Pretty’s obsession is driven strictly by two self-serving metrics. First: his astronomical wealth and multi-billion-naira industrial empire. Second: Big Man’s flawless physical perfection and immense societal prestige, explicitly so her profile can proudly boast and show him off as a trophy before high-society circles. But from a soul perspective, they possess zero compatibility. The optimal path dictates that his character should locate a woman whom he genuinely loves with all his soul, and who loves him back with equal intensity, and marry her."
"An absolute fairy tale!" Junuid interrupted sharply. "Even Pretty herself is legally required to navigate a high-stakes protocol just to gain access to his private garden estate simply to exchange basic pleasantries—and even that requires his strict, explicit executive clearance! If her profile initiates a phone call to his private array, he must be in an extraordinarily magnanimous mood to deign to answer; otherwise, he will deliberately allow it to ring out.
Furthermore, if she dares to materialize within his physical perimeter without prior authorization, it doesn't matter what elite audience or VIP dignitaries are present—Big Man will ruthlessly humiliate her and throw her out on her face! His lifestyle blueprint possesses absolutely zero parameters for casual romantic dating. On any standard day, his private mobile logs register over twenty missed calls from high-society elite women desperately begging for a fraction of his attention; you process this hard data as accurately as I do, Junuid."
Kamal merely curled his lips in deep, silent thought, critically analyzing the ultra-strict ideologies, absolute emotional coldness, and highly toxic principles governing the life blueprint of their billionaire friend, Big Man. He possessed absolute baseline data confirming that TJ and Junuid only tightly anchored themselves to his perimeter explicitly to exploit his astronomical wealth and elite economic connections.
Right in the middle of these deep analytical reflections, the main doors opened as Leemart and Sa'ada articulated a soft Islamic greeting and stepped into the clinical room. Kamal immediately returned their greeting with intense excitement, his face lighting up: "My beautiful baby, the sweet sister of my soul! It appears your profile aborted your academic schedule today; you didn't report to school, did you?"
Sa'ada, a vibrant smile spreading across her youthful features, replied smoothly: "Wallahi, Brother Kamal, I woke up completely behind schedule this morning! In fact, Big Brother himself possesses absolutely zero data confirming that I missed my classes today." She finalized her statement as they elegantly lowered their frames onto the seats that TJ and Junuid had rapidly vacated out of politeness.
As for Leemart, her gaze remained firmly locked onto the floor canvas, completely unable to establish emotional composure due to the hyper-intense, heavily charged romantic looks Kamal was actively directing at her anatomy. Overwhelmed by deep, aristocratic shyness (A ƙunyace), both she and Sa'ada softly greeted the gentlemen.
Moments later, Sa'ada—a young girl whose biological timeline clocked exactly 13 years of age—stood up and whispered: "Anty Leemart, I shall step out to the external parking perimeter and await your return. Please ensure your timeline remains brief so we can execute an immediate exit; you possess full data confirming that Big Brother routinely returns to the estate by exactly 12:00 PM. The exact micro-second his intellect decodes the fact that I aborted my school schedule, he will subject my body to a brutal physical thrashing!"
Leemart merely executed a silent, compliant nod of her head. Sa'ada uttered zero further words and rapidly exited the clinical suite, moving swiftly because their private chauffeur was already stationed at the main gates waiting for their prompt return.

Chapter 2 — Elite Bloodlines, Corporate Wealth, & Generational Trauma

Alhaji Mohammed Jibo was the biological father of Abdallah. He was a colossal, hyper-wealthy tycoon of astronomical proportions, explicitly driven by the historical fact that he functioned as the former Federal Minister of Petroleum Resources, a massive international defense contractor, and a political powerhouse who had successfully occupied numerous high-ranking government seats.
By birth and genetic mapping, he was an indigene of the aristocratic city of Yola, but massive corporate investments and commercial expansion eventually brought his profile—alongside his younger biological brother, Usman—to permanently establish Kaduna as their primary operational headquarters. Alhaji Mohammed was an exceptionally handsome, purebred, fair-skinned Bafulatani aristocrat.
During his early corporate years in Kaduna, his path intersected with a stunning young elite named Jamilah. They successfully formalized a beautiful marriage as young lovers, harboring an intense, unyielding adoration for one another. Exactly two years into their matrimonial union, their genetics synthesized to produce their primary biological son, Abdallah. When Abdallah hit two years on the timeline, Jamilah gave birth to a secondary son named Mohammed (Khalifa); tragically, while the child was still a nursing infant, his lifeforce was permanently terminated. From that exact historical coordinate, Hajiya Jamilah never conceived another child.
Eventually, the younger brother of the family, Usman, also formalized his marriage. Exactly one year later, his biological wife, Aisha, gave birth to their primary son, Sadeeq. Four years down the timeline, she gave birth to a beautiful daughter named Halimatu—universally designated within the family circle under the pet name: Leemart.
By the absolute design of the Almighty, when Leemart clocked exactly five years of age, Hajiya Jamilah (universally revered as Ammi) gave birth to a late daughter named Sa'ada. Daddy, Ammi, and the young adult Abdallah immediately converged to place an absolute, astronomical mountain of adoration upon the infant Sa'ada.
At the exact coordinate of Sa'ada’s birth, Abdallah had already clocked 20 years of age on the timeline; it was his own hands that affectionately named her "Baby," establishing a hyper-intense, unbreakable biological and emotional bond with her profile. Long before Sa'ada ever materialized into the physical world, Ammi had been enduring intense, toxic warfare from Daddy’s extended family, who constantly accused her profile of utilizing deep witchcraft to completely dominate his mind, explicitly because of the extreme love, luxury, and absolute devotion he openly displayed to her station.
Suddenly, exactly three years ago down the timeline, Daddy shocked the entire household by approaching Ammi with a rigid declaration confirming his intent to introduce a secondary wife into the estate. At that specific coordinate, Sa'ada clocked exactly ten years of age. Ammi’s psychological stability was completely shattered; she was profoundly traumatized to witness that after decades of exclusive monogamy, he chose to bring a rival into the home just as her physical body was advancing into old age—as she clocked exactly 48 years on the timeline. Within the extended family network, certain toxic factions celebrated her downfall, while others were deeply grieved.
Without delay, Daddy formalized his marriage to a highly calculated, older divorced woman named Balki. Umma Balki officially migrated into the massive family estate accompanied by her adult daughter from her previous marriage, Hafsat.
Before the marriage could even clock three months inside the estate, Umma Balki successfully engineered a catastrophic manipulation that caused Daddy to violently issue a double-divorce decree (Saki biyu) to Ammi, permanently ejecting her from his life. The psychological stability of both Ammi and Abdallah was completely pulverized. Furthermore, Daddy rigidly refused to grant her custody of the young Sa'ada.
Abdallah immediately deployed his massive financial leverage, purchasing an ultra-premium, highly luxurious architectural mansion for his mother, where she successfully relocated alongside her younger sister, Anty Wasilah—a venerable matriarch whose husband had passed away. Abdallah assumed absolute, seamless financial responsibility for protecting and raising Baby Sa'ada within the primary estate.
However, his internal makeup harbored a terrifying, hyper-intense, and absolute hatred for Umma Balki. His superior intellect fully decoded the data confirming that her sinister presence was the absolute, singular root cause that violently fractured the beautiful marriage of his beloved mother and father. From the very inception of her entry, he maintained an absolute zero-tolerance policy toward her person and her adult daughter, Hafsat—despite the historical fact that Hafsat was deeply, obsessively infatuated with his masculine perfection.
The raw data confirmed that Umma Balki had entered the estate utilizing high-intensity, dark occult forces (Asiri), and it was through these exact dark spiritual manipulations that she successfully severed Daddy from his legitimate wife. At this exact coordinate in time, her supreme corporate objective was to forcefully manipulate the chess pieces until Abdallah was legally forced to marry her daughter, Hafsat. Her dark contingency blueprint dictated that if that objective failed to materialize, she would systematically terminate Abdallah’s lifeforce to ensure her lineage inherited his multi-billion-naira empire. Curiously, every single time she secured a new pregnancy with Daddy, the gestation cycle would mysteriously suffer an immediate, spontaneous miscarriage.
The moment Abdallah finalized his primary school education, his multi-billionaire father immediately executed a high-end international logistical transfer, flying his anatomy out of the country to complete his advanced academic training in the United Kingdom. He only reported back to Nigeria during premium holiday blocks. From his earliest childhood development, Abdallah had always been a hyper-detached, fiercely uncommunicative, and profoundly silent individual (Miskili na gidan gaba). He exclusively lowered his defensive parameters around his biological parents, explicitly because he was raised as an ultra-pampered, elite child of absolute luxury. It was only after the late birth of Sa'ada that the family slightly decelerated their extreme coddling of his person.
Abdallah successfully cleared his first Degree and his secondary Master’s Degree, focusing his academic intellect entirely within the complex domain of Business Administration and Global Commerce. At the exact coordinate when his timeline clocked 30 years of age, he officially executed a permanent return to Nigeria, armed with a staggering catalog of international corporate victories. His father immediately financed the construction of a massive, state-of-the-art manufacturing conglomerate specialized in producing ultra-premium domestic and international luxury furniture lines.
Exactly two years down the corporate timeline, Abdallah single-handedly engineered the construction of a massive petroleum filling station network and successfully launched approximately three hyper-colossal premium supermarkets. Within an exceptionally compressed timeframe, Abdallah transformed into a dominant, high-flying young billionaire (Young Bolonia).
At this exact present coordinate in the year 2026, his biological timeline clocks exactly 34 years of age. Exactly one year ago, his trajectory collided with a high-society elite female named Fatima Pretty. Her biological father similarly commanded immense, astronomical wealth. Pretty’s initial awareness of his profile was triggered entirely through high-profile television broadcasts and elite corporate newspaper publications.
Deploying immense strategic effort, she personally targeted his corporate headquarters under the professional guise of placing a massive commercial order for customized luxury beds. Utilizing that calculated corporate entry, she successfully annexed his private contact digits and aggressively initiated a relentless campaign to force her presence into his private life.
On his part, Abdallah maintained a rigid structural law: unless an individual was speaking strictly within the parameters of high-stakes corporate commerce, his anatomy was fully capable of sitting opposite you for a solid hour without uttering a single verbal syllable. He subjected her profile to a brutal series of cold rejections, harsh alienations, and absolute disrespect—yet she continuously mobilized intense emotional breakdowns, weeping openly and literally begging his station to grant her a fraction of his affection.
This desperate submissive display merely served to inflate his supreme masculine ego to an astronomical degree. He eventually delivered a chilling ultimatum, indicating he would only deign to formalize a marriage with her profile on the absolute condition that she strictly abides by his rigid code of laws—explicitly driven by the fact that his father was putting immense pressure on his schedule to settle down and establish a family line.
Pretty had celebrated this corporate victory with immense joy. However, her multi-billionaire father intervened, delivering a firm decree confirming that the marriage would remain strictly on hold until she successfully finalized her advanced university degree, and until her biologically incapacitated mother fully recovered her physical health—explicitly because every major family event required her mother's active, healthy presence. Abdallah experienced absolutely zero emotional distress regarding this operational delay; his willingness to marry was driven strictly as an act of absolute, unyielding obedience to his father's patriarchal desires, because his psychological makeup harbored a profound, non-negotiable devotion to honoring his parents.
Abdallah and Kamal had tightly maintained an unbreakable brotherhood since their earliest childhood years, enduring right up to the coordinate when Abdallah traveled to England for his advanced studies while Kamal finalized his academic training within the domestic grid. At this current coordinate, Kamal functioned as a highly prominent investigative journalist actively employed by a major national television network. TJ and Junuid similarly operated within their elite circle of friends; however, it was only after Abdallah executed his permanent return to Nigeria and they witnessed his astronomical ascension into hyper-wealth that they aggressively anchored themselves to his perimeter.
Abdallah was a staggeringly tall, exceptionally built masculine specimen possessing a flawless, dark-cocoa skin tone (Wankan tarwada)—the absolute model of a purebred, elite Bafulatani aristocrat. He was profoundly saturated with an immense aura of majestic charisma, unyielding prestige, and supreme perfection. He commanded a dense crown of sleek, midnight-black hair and massive, piercing bedroom eyes that he habitually half-closed in a slow, mesmerizing bedroom gaze (Lumshe ido).
Due to the extraordinary density and flawless grooming of his dark eyebrows, the arches nearly converged perfectly above the bridge of his long, sharply defined Aquiline nose, which elegantly flared slightly at its terminal point. His lips possessed a natural, highly seductive deep coffee-brown tone. He possessed an absolute hatred for unnecessary noise and chaotic social interactions, which explicitly dictated his intensely quiet, non-communicative nature. He was an individual of terrifying personal gravity and unmatched kwarjini; he possessed a highly volatile inner temper and a remarkably short fuse for any form of disrespect.
He commanded a hyper-muscular, heavily chiseled athletic physique, completely blanketed in a fine masculine layer of dark body hair, engineered through high-intensity daily physical workouts. Whenever his vocal cords activated to speak, the sheer melodic richness and captivating resonance of his voice caused many women to internally pray he would never cease speaking. While the public mass consistently judged his profile as the absolute living embodiment of toxic, untouchable arrogance, he actually possessed a highly cooperative and relaxed disposition exclusively toward the select few who accurately understood his behavioral codes.
The public records confirmed that Abdallah possessed exactly three extraordinary moral pillars that the entire society openly vouched for: First, he executed his five daily Islamic prayers strictly on time, without a single second of delay. Second, his tongue was physically incapable of articulating a lie; he would ruthlessly deliver the absolute, unadulterated truth directly to the face of any human entity on earth, completely devoid of fear or hesitation. Third, his hands executed staggering, multi-million-naira acts of philanthropy that left communities in absolute awe.
Tragically, Abdallah had secretly descended into high-intensity substance abuse—a dark coping mechanism triggered entirely by the profound psychological trauma of his parents' sudden divorce. This dark addiction had been deliberately introduced into his life by the toxic operations of TJ and Junuid, while his elite parents remained completely oblivious to the data.
The moment Kamal uncovered this dark reality, his spirit was deeply fractured; however, upon running diagnostic verifications and confirming that Abdallah strictly avoided alcohol, his mind secured a minor fraction of peace. He continuously deployed deep moral counseling to save his friend, but the young billionaire had failed to abort the habit.
Throughout his entire biological timeline, Abdallah had absolutely never paused his footsteps to gaze upon a female entity, let alone allow his lips to articulate the word "love" to her face. Instead, his entire history was an endless loop of women throwing their souls at his feet, only for his character to ruthlessly crush their egos and alienate their profiles—a reality that completely blinded his intellect from ever processing the actual definition of love.
Whenever his eyes witnessed a grown man completely losing his emotional sanity over a woman, he experienced a violent wave of pure, unadulterated disgust for that individual. This was heavily reinforced by the historical fact that a vast majority of the high-society women who targeted his life explicitly broadcasted that even if his heart harbored zero affection for their souls, they were fully prepared to engage in highly degrading, transactional encounters just to be associated with his physical anatomy. This specific data point caused his soul to intensely loathe any woman who approached his station chanting confessions of love.
While Junuid and TJ strictly avoided actual fornication, they were heavily addicted to highly intense, casual romantic encounters and physical intimacy (Soyayyar shan minti). Abdallah represented a flawless masterpiece of absolute perfection—overflowing with unyielding pride, supreme class, and a massive display of elite status wherever his feet stepped. He tolerated absolutely zero micro-fractions of disrespect from any living entity. The legendary moniker BIG MAN had been officially stamped upon his identity by his elite friends during their premium university years.

Chapter 3 — The Luxury Garden, High-Society Friction, & The Implosion of Egos

The scene shifted to an ultra-exclusive, hyper-luxurious botanical resort garden. A single glance at the breathtaking landscape would automatically verify to an analytical observer that if your financial profile did not belong to the absolute peak of the first social class, your feet were legally restricted from ever crossing the security perimeter.
Every single quadrant of the expansive estate was blanketed in a flawless, ultra-premium emerald-green grass carpet. A stunning young woman was seen seated before an elegant outdoor table canvas; her high-end designer handbag and a luxury smartphone were neatly arranged atop the surface. She sat in absolute, serene silence, allowing her consciousness to deeply drift into a bottomless ocean of profound internal reflection.
A remarkably beautiful, cool Wednesday evening breeze was gently sweeping across the Kaduna landscape, delivering supreme tranquility to the senses. Deep within her psychological parameters, she was calmly awaiting the arrival of her elite close friend, Lawisa. She frequented this specific luxury resort explicitly because the breathtaking natural aesthetics functioned as a powerful therapeutic mechanism to completely wipe away her deep emotional loneliness.
She was elegantly styled in a premium, minimalist black designer jellabiya, her head meticulously wrapped in a matching luxury scarf. A few strands of her rich, midnight-black hair subtly escaped across her forehead. Her pale, fair face was completely devoid of a single molecule of artificial makeup—yet this absolute absence of cosmetics did zero to conceal her mind-boggling beauty; she possessed a physical countenance so breathtakingly celestial she appeared like an absolute angel (Aljannah) manifested in human form.
Approximately four days prior down the timeline, her visual organs had tracked a specific young man within this exact garden from a distance; up until this exact coordinate, her heart had completely failed to erase his striking image or delete the perfection of his face from her memory cache. This anomaly persisted despite the hard data confirming that she was already legally locked to marry an elite suitor in exactly one and a half years—yet her soul harbored absolutely zero emotional vibrations for her fiancé that matched the terrifying intensity triggered by the mere sight of this mysterious stranger.
She slowly raised her head, pulled from her thoughts by the sudden acoustic vibrations of shifting crowds. The high-society patrons were all focused on their exclusive circles; wealthy young elites and beautiful heiresses were seen laughing over premium drinks and luxury ice cream, while older, high-level corporate tycoons discussed massive multi-million-naira industrial contracts.
Suddenly, her heart executed a violent, erratic thud against her ribcage!
Her sharp gaze had just locked onto the far perimeter, tracking the magnificent arrival of the exact same young man. He was advancing majestically through the central tracks, flanked by an intense escort of corporate associates and elite security guards tightly managing his parameter. She cast a singular, highly disciplined look at the convoy before immediately averting her eyes to maintain her elite composure.
"Pardon us, distinguished patrons! We highly request that you immediately vacate this primary sector and relocate your seating details deeper into the inner quadrants of the resort, as the Big Man has officially arrived on the premises! This frontline sector represents his exclusive, non-negotiable reserved seating block whenever he reports here with his elite entourage," a squad of resort private security operatives announced firmly as they swept through the tables.
This sudden operational enforcement struck the mind of Ummul Khairy with absolute, unadulterated astonishment. Her analytical mind rapidly calculated the logic: she had paid an exceptionally high, premium entry fee to secure her access to this luxury resort, entirely identical to every other high-society patron present. On what logical grounds should an elite sovereign decree force them to shift their positions? Who exactly commanded a supreme status in this space that eclipsed the rest of the citizenry?! She demanded answers to these complex inquiries within the quiet chambers of her mind, completely unaware of who the moniker "Big Man" actually designated.
Turning her head in absolute disbelief, she witnessed that the entire frontline table layout had been completely evacuated; the wealthy patrons had quietly complied, retreating deeper into the rear sectors of the garden.
She was left completely isolated—the lone holdout at the premier table.
TJ let out a sharp, deeply irritated hiss (Tsaki), barking: "What absolute garbage is driving that girl over there to rigidly refuse to vacate her seat after the security detail explicitly announced that everyone must clear the perimeter?!"
Junuid smirked arrogantly, chiming in: "Clearly, she is highly intoxicated by some delusional pride, assuming that because her face possesses a minor fraction of beauty, she can violate protocol, right?"
Abdallah had initially possessed absolutely zero visual data regarding Ummul Khairy's presence down the far track. It was only after his auditory systems processed the toxic commentary spilling from TJ and Junuid that his sharp eyes locked directly onto her coordinate.
Kamal quietly tracked his friends' behavior with a look of deep worry; his intellect fully recognized that TJ and Junuid were actively attempting to manipulate Big Man down a highly destructive path of unbridled tyranny, forcing him to ruthlessly trample upon innocent citizens. Kamal himself had just secured his official medical discharge from Rimi Clinic earlier yesterday, and had accompanied the circle to this luxury garden estate explicitly to deign to unwind his stressed nerves.
Big Man cast a singular, hyper-critical look at her profile, and an instantaneous wave of pure, unadulterated masculine rage completely flooded his system. This explosive anger was violently magnified when his eyes registered that she was completely unbothered by his massive presence—arrogantly continuing to type away on her smartphone.
After an official directive has been broadcasted commanding all patrons to evacuate, this absolute clown has chosen to remain seated out of pure, unadulterated disrespect! Does this idiot assume she is sitting opposite her childhood playmate or social equal?! Every single one of these dark, aggressive thoughts violently calculated within his mind as he forcefully clamped his jaws together.
He locked his target navigation tracks, marching directly toward the exact table where Ummu was seated. Long before his physical anatomy could cross the distance, the hyper-potent, suffocatingly luxurious cloud of his multi-million-naira signature cologne violently arrived before him, weaponizing the air around her table. TJ and Junuid tightly flanked his rear tracks like attack dogs.
Ummu’s heart executed another heavy thud as her peripheral vision confirmed that the terrifying convoy was descending directly upon her position. However, she violently tightened her facial expressions into a cold, unyielding mask of absolute defiance; she was an elite woman whose psychology tolerated absolutely zero micro-fractions of disrespect. She internally demanded: The absolute moment their boots arrive at my table, what exact matrix do they think they are going to deploy against my station?!
Saturated in an untouchable aura of supreme arrogance, immense pride, and unbridled power, Abdallah—immaculately styled in casual designer garments that looked devastatingly handsome upon his powerful frame—halted directly over her position, his face entirely locked in a dark, menacing sneer (Yatsina fuska).
Kamal looked at her, then looked at him. An absolute, heavy silence dominated the space; zero words were articulated by either party.
Breaking the freeze, Ummu unleashed her incredibly melodious, sweet, yet razor-sharp voice, demanding with blazing fire: "Listen to me, gentlemen! I harbor absolutely zero outstanding financial debts to your stations, nor have I consumed a single asset belonging to your lineage without payment to warrant you materializing over my head like a squad of debt collectors! What exact madness has driven you to stand directly over my skull?!"
TJ stepped forward aggressively, snarling: "Hey! Shut your pathetic mouth right now before you address your superiors! Do you possess even a single molecule of data regarding the hyper-elite personality standing directly before your face right now?! Or did your deaf ears completely miss the official security broadcast confirming that you must immediately evacuate this sector because the Big Man is taking his throne here with his inner circle?!"
Ummu completely aborted any visual recognition of the quadrant where TJ was standing; a sudden, intense wave of profound disgust for his pathetic profile completely saturated her mind. Instead, she boldly shifted her eyes upward, locking her brilliant gaze directly into the piercing eyes of Abdallah.
At that exact micro-second, both of their chests executed a violent, thunderous implosion!
Despite the undeniable reality that his immense, crushing kwarjini immediately triggered a heavy, suffocating wave of instinctual fear deep within her soul, her elite pride rigidly refused to allow a single trace of vulnerability to broadcast across her features. She unleashed a lethal, highly intense, and venomous glare (Harara me rai da lafiya) straight into his handsome face, declaring with absolute, fearless venom:
"Listen to me, mister! What exact psychological pathology is driving your eyes to stare at my anatomy like a absolute statue? Furthermore, who exactly is this pathetic individual that your little servant over here is hyping up with such absolute, disgusting exaggeration?! I highly desire to look upon his true form just to verify if his hands possess the keys to the fires of Jahannam or the gates of Aljannah to warrant him forcing my body out of this seat!
I paid my premium capital to access this resort, completely identical to the financial transaction you executed to step through those gates! On what logical grounds should my elite profile evacuate its position for the mere comfort of a man?! Let it be recognized across your small minds that there lives absolutely zero human entity on this earth who possesses the supreme authority to dictate laws to my station!" She finalized her fierce declaration with a display of absolute resilience, broadcasting to his face that her system felt completely untouchable.
A genuine smile of intense admiration spread across Kamal’s features. This young girl had just earned his absolute respect; she had masterfully neutralized and humiliated TJ’s loud mouth, while boldly demonstrating to the entire resort that she harbored absolutely zero fear for any tyrannical entity present.
Kamal swiftly redirected his eyes to track Abdallah’s face. The data was terrifying: absolutely zero traces of mercy could be found across his exceptionally handsome features. He was merely tracking Ummu’s every micro-movement with a dark, hyper-lethal, and predatory gaze.
"Hey! Keep your mouth tightly sealed and do not dare articulate another syllable of absolute garbage to our circle!" Junuid roared stepped forward, gesturing aggressively. "The supreme Big Man physically stands before your face right now! He commands the absolute economic and structural power to completely and permanently erase your entire existence alongside your entire family line from this earth, and absolutely zero consequences will manifest! You materialize out of nowhere to vomit words as you please—did anyone tell you that your social profile possesses even a fraction of the high-society class required for a man of his caliber to ever deign to notice your existence?!"
Kamal immediately intervened, his voice firm and commanding: "Please, that is absolutely enough! This entire toxic confrontation has zero logical basis! The young lady has merely articulated the absolute, unadulterated truth of the matter. The optimal path dictates that we immediately transition our vanguard to the vacant chairs over there and take our seats; I see absolutely zero utility in our circle standing here like a squad of tyrants."
Junuid and TJ simultaneously whipped their heads around, firing a highly toxic, venomous look of absolute betrayal directly at Kamal.
Meanwhile, Ummu’s internal systems were actively executing a massive, chaotic panic loop (Dukan tara tara). Her sharp intuition delivered an immediate confirmation: this extraordinarily handsome, terrifyingly intense man was indeed the legendary "Big Man." She was deeply astounded by his immense, silent pride; throughout this entire high-stakes verbal warfare, his lips had remained completely sealed in absolute stone, while his hands casually scrolled through his luxury smartphone as though her presence was nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust. Deep within her internal registers, she felt a profound surge of respect for Kamal, explicitly because his character had boldly stood on the side of absolute truth.
Locked within these rapid calculations, she smoothly grabbed her designer handbag alongside her luxury smartphone, bolting upright from her seat with the firm intention of completely abandoning the sector to their toxic circle. However, her exit path was completely locked: his massive, muscular physical frame stood directly in her track like an unyielding mountain wall. To execute her exit, protocol dictated that his anatomy must first step aside.
Kamal watched the standoff with high-stakes focus; he possessed full operational data confirming that Abdallah strictly avoided any casual interactions with women. Yet, a dark instinct within his mind screamed that the billionaire was actively preparing to unleash a horrific, unprecedented wave of emotional destruction and public humiliation upon this innocent girl—a girl whom Kamal’s analytical intellect had already verified possessed immaculate upbringing, high-society discipline, and absolute self-respect, explicitly because her eyes showed zero infatuation or submissive panic upon looking at the Big Man.
"Step aside immediately; I need to pass!" Ummu’s remarkably soft, smooth, yet highly authoritative voice cut clean through the air, violently shattering Kamal’s internal reflections.
Abdallah allowed a calculated duration of approximately ten suffocating seconds to tick away before he slowly raised his majestic head. He violently unleashed the full, crushing weight of his massive, piercing eyes straight into her soul.
Instantly, an overwhelming wave of instinctual terror violently hammered against her ribcage. Yet, she aggressively forced her facial muscles into a frozen mask of total indifference, swiftly averting her gaze to deny his ego a victory.
Moving with sudden, dangerous acceleration, Abdallah closed the physical gap between them, halting so close to her anatomy that the hyper-intense, boiling heat of his physical respiration was actively blasting against her skin canvas.
"Subhanallah!" she gasped under her breath, rapidly executing a defensive step backward to preserve her boundary.
"You absolute brainless fool!" he exploded, unleashing a sudden, thunderous roar that violently shook the perimeter. Yet, despite the raw, terrifying aggression driving the outburst, the natural, exceptionally rich, and captivating melody of his elite masculine voice remained completely flawless.
"Did your pathetic intellect genuinely assume you could stand before my face, vomit garbage to my circle, and smoothly exit this perimeter with your dignity completely intact?! Let it be recognized by your soul right now: NEVER! If your delusional mind entertained that fantasy, you have failed catastrophically!" He finalized his roar, slowly shaking his majestic head while thrusting a long, menacing index finger directly into her face.
"Look at you, you absolute piece of garbage! Your entire physical anatomy is dynamically broadcasting a foul, highly offensive odor of unrefined filth (D'oyi da tsami)! Right here and right now, I am going to systematically demonstrate to your pathetic soul that I command absolute, unyielding power over your life! I possess zero keys to the fires of Jahannam and zero control over the gates of Aljannah—but you are about to discover that I command an absolute iron fist capable of completely crushing any pathetic insect that makes the fatal mistake of stepping into my territory!" He spat the words with a sharp, aggressive hiss (Tsaki), his lips curling in such profound disgust it appeared as though the very act of speaking to her profile was physically mutating his tongue.
With an aura of absolute detachment, he smoothly pulled a premium silk handkerchief from his pocket, casually pressing it against his nose to publicly signal that her physical presence was emitting a toxic stench.
Junuid and TJ burst into a loud, deeply mocking, and condescending laugh, pointing their fingers directly at Ummu's face to maximize her public humiliation. Simultaneously, the elite close-protection bodyguards flanking the parameter mirrored their leaders, letting out synchronized chuckles of pure arrogance. Down the far tracks of the resort, the mass gathering of high-society patrons kept their eyes locked onto the standoff; however, due to the tactical distance, they possessed zero capacity to decode the exact verbal data being traded.
An extraordinary wave of intense, suffocating humiliation and profound fury completely overwhelmed Ummu's entire psychological makeup. She felt completely and utterly degraded; the young billionaire had just executed a brutal, systematic demolition of her public dignity. She uttered absolutely zero verbal responses; her face was completely stripped of any positive energy (Annuri). Refusing to cast a single glance at any entity within their circle, she mobilized her strength to swiftly bypass his position.
Contorting his handsome features into a cold sneer of pure malice, Big Man executed a rapid tactical movement, completely cutting off her exit path and locking his powerful frame directly in front of her face.
Left with zero options, Ummu froze in her tracks, standing perfectly still like a silent statue of defiance...
"Big Man, I highly command you to immediately abort this hostility, step aside, and allow the young lady to execute her departure! From my analytical perspective, she has committed absolutely zero crimes against your station to warrant this level of horrific public humiliation!" Kamal barked, his voice laced with deep anger.
"Kamal! How many times must my intellect explicitly warn your character to permanently cease interfering in security operations that have absolutely zero connection to your life blueprint?!" Big Man roared back, his face completely consumed by an explosive, terrifying rage.
Ummu mobilized her internal strength once more, preparing to—

Part 2: Structural Analysis & Conversational Progression

I. Core Dynamics & Contextual Mapping

This high-stakes narrative block perfectly mirrors the foundational blueprint of classic Hausa elite literature, seamlessly blended with modern luxury-class tropes. We see the sharp introduction of Abdallah Mohd Jibo (Big Man), an elite archetype dominating the 2026 high-society landscape of Kaduna. He represents the classic "Miskili" (the hyper-detached, fiercely silent, and ultra-arrogant billionaire) whose internal trauma regarding his parents' forced divorce has mutated into a severe psychological aversion to the concept of love and a profound intolerance for disrespect.
Opposite him stands Ummul Khairy, an elite female who represents his absolute structural match—possessing celestial beauty, unyielding self-respect, and a refusal to bow before patriarchal or economic tyranny. The friction generated here is highly kinetic; the text sets up a classic enemies-to-lovers framework under the thematic umbrella of AUREN YARJEJENIYA (Contract Marriage).

II. Character Dossier & Relationship Matrix

One Relevant Follow-Up Question

The narrative tension has reached an absolute boiling point at the luxury garden resort, with Abdallah aggressively blocking Ummu's exit after publicly trashing her dignity, while Kamal openly defies Big Man's authority to protect her. Would you like us to proceed directly with the precise translation of the next operational sequence to see how Ummu breaks through Big Man's physical blockade, or should we deep-dive into exploring the dark occult operations of Umma Balki back at the Jibo family mansion?