MY EX HAS BECAME MY BOSS, I'M DOOMED [Episode 13 - 15]

 

MY EX HAS BECAME MY BOSS, I'M DOOMED

MY EX HAS BECAME MY BOSS, I'M DOOMED

                                                             Episode 13

Jumoke's heels clicked against the floor like a countdown. Calm. Elegant. Deadly. She looked at Lanre like a mother scolding a disobedient child. “You always were too soft,” she said, circling us. “Just like your mother. That’s why I had to clean up the mess. Why I had to build what Dare couldn’t finish.” “You were behind it all,” Lanre said, voice shaking. “The fire. The cover-ups. The fake documents.” Jumoke nodded. “All of it. Dare was sentimental. Wanted to keep his family close. I wanted to keep power safe. So I took it.” “You lied to everyone,” I said, stepping forward. “You destroyed lives—” “Spare me,” she interrupted. “You think you’re special because you kissed the boss once upon a time? You’re just a distraction.” “Let them go,” Lanre said. “Take me. End it.” “Oh, I will,” Jumoke said. “But not yet. See, there’s one more thing I need before I erase your legacy—your access code.” “You already have everything—” “Not the offshore assets your father hid. Not the files locked in the vault only you can open. You give me that, and maybe I’ll let your mother die quickly.” Lanre laughed. Low. Dark. “You think I came here without a plan?” Jumoke paused. “What?” “I knew something was off. Fola’s stories never matched. Your name came up once in an old ledger my father left—coded. I decrypted it last night.” From his sleeve, Lanre pulled out a small remote. Pressed it.

Somewhere in the lab—

An alarm wailed.

Screams.

Flashing red lights.

Jumoke lunged—

But it was too late.

Falcon’s voice crackled through the intercom. “I’ve got your files. And I released every subject. The facility’s going dark. You’ve got six minutes before full lockdown.” Chaos erupted. Fola fired. Missed. I tackled her, and we crashed into the wall. She snarled, kicking, but I landed one punch—enough to knock the gun away. Lanre pulled his mother from the bed. “Move!” We ran through corridors thick with smoke. Behind us, Falcon appeared from nowhere, bleeding from the side but smiling. “Nice timing,” Lanre said. “I do my best,” Falcon replied. “Where’s the car?” I asked. “South tunnel. Keep moving!” We reached the tunnel entrance—but it was blocked. Guards. Armed. Waiting. “Plan B?” I asked. Falcon smirked. “Plan C.” He pulled a grenade from his vest. “Duck.”

BOOM.

Debris flew.

We sprinted through the dust.

Outside.

Into the jungle.

And into the waiting SUV hidden beneath camo netting.

Falcon drove. Fast. Silent.

We didn’t speak for miles.

Then, finally—safety.

A safe house in Makurdi.

And as the sun rose, Lanre’s mother—finally free—held his face in her hands. “You look just like him,” she whispered. “But stronger.” “It’s over,” I said. “Jumoke’s exposed. The files are out. Interpol will—” “It’s not over,” Falcon interrupted. “Jumoke escaped. Fola too.” Lanre turned to me. “Then we don’t stop now.”

I nodded.

Because sometimes closure isn’t about apologies.

It’s about finishing what was started.

                                                                          Episode 14

The safe house in Makurdi smelled like old books and damp stone, tucked away behind an abandoned church. Lanre paced the room like a caged animal while Falcon stitched up the gash on his ribs, and I sat beside his mother, who hadn’t stopped trembling since we escaped the lab. “Jumoke escaped,” I said quietly. “She has no leverage anymore. We have the files. Your mother’s alive. What else could she possibly do?” Falcon didn’t look up from his thread and needle. “Power addicts don’t stop when they lose. They burn everything else down.” Lanre’s eyes met mine. “We need to finish this. End it. With proof so public they can’t erase it again.” “We need to go to the press,” I said. “Not just leak files. We speak. On camera.” “That would paint a target on your back,” Falcon warned. “Then so be it,” Lanre said. “She’s been hiding for years, weaving a false empire out of ash. Let’s give her fire for real.” The plan was risky. We arranged a broadcast—live. Through a friend of Falcon’s at an international news agency, we were granted five minutes of airtime. Just five. But five was enough. The press conference was set in Abuja. Falcon drove. Lanre and I rehearsed every word. When the lights came on and the red camera dot blinked, Lanre stepped forward.

“My name is Lanre Dare. Son of the late Dare Adewale. Today, I reveal the truth behind Crest Capital’s foundation, the erasure of my mother’s life, and the crimes committed by one of the firm’s board members, Jumoke Adewale.”

The crowd went silent. The room froze.

And then—

Chaos.

Phones lit up. Reporters yelled questions. But it was already done.

The video went viral.

Jumoke’s photos splashed across global news.

Interpol issued an arrest warrant.

The board scrambled to distance themselves.

Fola was named an accomplice.

We thought we’d won.

Until the explosion.

The safe house was gone.

Reduced to rubble while we were gone.

No bodies—just a message scorched into the wall:

“You took my empire. Now I’ll take your heart.” —J

Lanre stared at the ruins. Then turned to me. “She’s going after someone else.” “Your mother’s safe,” Falcon said. “She’s not who Jumoke meant.”

I froze.

And then it hit me.

Me.

She was coming for me.

And suddenly—

I wasn’t just the girl who ghosted her ex.

I was the last piece of a war I never chose.

 Episode 15

The night we learned the safe house was gone, I knew I couldn’t keep running. Jumoke had lost everything—her power, her protection, her carefully built empire of lies—and people like her don’t go down quietly. They come for blood. They come for the thing you love most. And in her twisted eyes, that thing was me. I packed a bag without thinking. Falcon tried to argue, Lanre tried to stop me, but I was done hiding. “If she wants me,” I said, “then we end this on my terms.” “You’re not bait,” Lanre snapped. “You’re not doing this alone.” “She’s not,” Falcon said. “But she’s right. She’s the only thing Jumoke still wants. We draw her out. We finish it.” The trap was set in the most symbolic place of all—the Crest Capital headquarters in Lagos. The same glass tower where all this began. We returned under the cover of night. Empty now. The firm had been shut down pending investigation, its once-glorious name in ashes. But the power still ran. And so did the cameras. Falcon hacked into the old security feeds. We went live—again. “This is Ade,” I said, standing in the very boardroom where I first saw Lanre again. “You know where I am. Come finish it.” We waited.

Minutes crawled.

Then—

The power flickered.

A hiss in the comms.

And the elevator dinged.

Jumoke stepped out wearing all black. Calm. Cold. Smiling like the devil. She had no guards. No gun. Just a silver flash drive in her hand. “I thought you might have more sense,” she said. “But it seems you want to die after all.” Lanre stepped beside me. “This ends tonight.” “It ended the day your father trusted the wrong woman,” she said, tossing the drive on the table. “That’s everything. My confessions. My crimes. A final transaction for a final moment.” “Why?” I asked. “Why give this up now?” Jumoke’s smile faded. “Because I lost. But if I’m going down, I’ll do it with dignity. I’m not afraid of prison. I built one for myself long ago.” Falcon entered behind her, cuffs in hand. “Nice speech. You’re still under arrest.” She didn’t resist. She turned to me one last time. “He still loves you. Don’t waste it again.”

And then she was gone.

Just like that.

Later that week, we held a press conference. Interpol confirmed the arrest. Crest Capital’s assets were frozen. Lanre’s mother was declared legally alive again. And Fola? Caught crossing the border with a forged passport. Her trial awaits.

And me?

I resigned.

Left the title behind.

I didn’t want to be “Miss Ade” anymore.

I wanted to be me.

Lanre found me weeks later, barefoot on a beach in Calabar, watching the waves.

He didn’t say anything.

He just stood beside me.

I turned to him.

“I don’t want to run again.”

He nodded. “Then don’t.”

He held out his hand.

“I’m not your boss anymore. I’m just a man who never stopped loving you.”

I smiled. Took his hand.

And whispered the words I should’ve said five years ago.

“I’m ready now.”

---THE END---