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Married to My Enemy’s Alpha / Chapter 1: No Peace for Cannon-Fodder
Married to My Enemy’s Alpha

Married to My Enemy’s Alpha

Author: Joshua Schmidt


Chapter 1: No Peace for Cannon-Fodder

I be Enigma, but my wife na Alpha.

For this our Naija wahala, my own Alpha dey fierce and cold, just like harmattan breeze wey dey cut face for December morning. She no dey smile, her eyes dey sharp as razor, body strong like person wey grow for Jos.

Na after I awaken finish for this life wey no dey balance, na im I come reason say I just be one cannon-fodder villain—one kind background waka-pass—wey dem write only to suffer. As e be, e get one Omega wey dey always shine like him white moonlight, the one wey dey inside him mind steady like night vigil song.

Unless say I don craze like person wey kolo, I no go ever use my life follow this stubborn, wahala Alpha drag matter. Wetin concern me? Make I dey go my own way jare.

So I sharply dump am, waka go bar—no shame at all, ready to toast all those small O’s all night. As Naija guy, I fit use two mouth, but e no mean say I no get feelings. I order one big stout, no time for soft drink.

But that very night, my Alpha catch me, pin me for him chest wey get correct eight-pack. If you see the muscle, e be like ogbono soup when e don draw—tight, no space.

That him mouth wey dey sharp, but e go just bone, dey look you like say you be small pikin, come begin run dirty talk as if say we dey act home video:

“You talk say you be Enigma? Why you dey melt anytime I touch you?”

“Mmm, talk something now.”

“Abeg, shut up.”

“Cover your mouth for me.”

“Obinna, my heat don start, abeg give me kiss.”

As I dey talk am, my voice get small beg, but if you look well, e still carry pride. Na Naija way be that—you go humble, but still dey form.

“Comot from here.”

Obinna just bone face, e no even look my side. Na so all these stubborn Alphas dey do, dem go dey form hard guy even when their body dey hot.

“Just one na.”

“Pa—”

Tsk, slap land again. This one loud, my ear almost ring. For inside me, I just dey count.

Fourth time be this o.

The first time, e still dey okay, we never too close that time. I just bone, no wahala. The second time, I reason say maybe na shyness dey worry am. You know as e dey be when you never really sabi person finish.

Third time—well, three times, I still manage. For Naija, who no fit take small slap, no suppose dey marriage wahala.

But this one na the fourth time. E be like say Obinna dey use am do morning devotion for my face. My cheek dey hot like fresh moi-moi from fire.

If I inject another inhibitor this night, I no go even fit call myself Enigma again. E go mean say I no get control for my own matter—abomination!

As I dey reason am, I press my tongue for cheek, eye dey narrow for Obinna fine face wey too make sense. E get as e be when you dey look person wey you suppose vex for, but your heart still dey do you "gba gba gba".

Na my own wife be this—wetin dey wrong if I wan mark am? For Naija, who go look him wife and no go wan do? Abeg!

“Obinna.”

As I catch am look up, I pounce, bite the gland for him neck. My Naija spirit no dey carry last, and this wahala dey sweet me somehow.

I just dey perceive that him scent wey be like fresh rain on red earth when, before I fit even taste skin, he use leg knack me for ground. See as my body land for tiled floor, na so my pride scatter join.

My ribs even begin pain me. But as Naija guy, you no suppose show weakness—na so I just grind teeth, hold am inside. If my mama see me like this, she go pray midnight prayer for my deliverance.

“Pei Huai, you be dog?”

Obinna curse, press him right leg well-well for the swollen side of my face. For this life, person suppose fear Alpha when dem vex. Dem get power wey be like thunder strike.

From where I dey, I fit see Obinna long straight leg and him yansh wey dey show for inside him native trouser. Guy, the tailor sabi work—material just dey cling to am, you go know say person no be small boy.

Maybe my eye too dey obvious, too shameless, because Obinna come press the leg harder. My mind begin wonder whether na punishment or na another kind play.

That cold sole mix with pain, my body dey do me one kind, like say pepper enter my blood. For Naija, wahala dey sweet sometimes, as long as e get pepper.

To talk true… e sweet me somehow, spicy and sharp. I no go lie, I dey feel am for my marrow.

No wonder I dey craze for am. No be ordinary hand.

I lick the corner of my mouth, my tongue just drag pass the top of him shoe, leave one wet shine for there. E get as e be—if na person see me now, dem go say make I go church.

“Chairman Obinna, e be like say you dey hard for here o…”

I hint am, dey pant, my voice come dey rough and low. For street, na this kind talk dey scatter person head.

No matter how cold Obinna be, e no fit resist 100% match. Even stone get limit.

True to talk, Obinna swallow spit, him eye shake for one second. The thing touch am small, even if e dey form.

But e come gather himself, squat down, grab my chin, give me another slap. As slap land, e pain reach my bone but my heart still dey pump.

“……”

No be human being—e no even send me at all. This kind Alpha, e go make you respect yourself.

Obinna vex well. Even as he dey waka go, e be like say he just escape from wild animal. Him step dey sharp, no looking back.

If I think am well, at least I try small. In this Lagos, na tryer dey win sometimes.

If I fit dey vex Obinna, e mean say I don dey make progress. At least, e dey notice me pass ordinary.

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