Again chapter 18 C

(Diadem’s Dilemma ) -A raw version of Diadem .

They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I think they were wrong because they should try stopping a desperate man going hunting at full force.-Diadem

She was my prisoner, and I held the keys to her soul. Little did she know, I was hers too.

-Diadem

🤍Wale& Nneoma placeholders# Diadem's POV

Diadem’s pov

The amber liquid in my beer bottle catches the dim light of the bar as I gently set it down on the worn wooden counter. The stool creaks under my weight as I adjust it, the metal legs scraping against the scratched floor until I find the right height.

Kamsi sits beside me, his face etched with concern as he shows me a video on his phone. The screen illuminates his worried features in the dimly lit space. Wale's voice echoes from the small speakers, hailing Nneoma like she's royalty. There she is on the screen, sitting confidently, radiating the kind of energy that used to be mine to bask in. The sight hits me like a punch to the gut.

I wish I was the one calling her my queen. God, I made such a big mistake. I made her feel like I didn't care when caring about her was the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to be the cool guy, the one in control, but in the process, I made her look crazy and wrong for doing nothing but loving me with everything she had. I strung her along like a puppet master, messing with her heart unintentionally or maybe not so unintentionally.

None of the things she did for me back then seemed to matter to my foolish self. She was there when I went out on dates with other girls, standing by like a loyal friend while I paraded my conquests in front of her. When she spoke up about the things I did wrong, I always made her feel like she was the one with the problems. My ego was a wounded beast, and I fed it with her pain.

I always thought Nneoma was going to wait for me forever. I was so wrong. Sometimes the best things slip through our grasp while we're too busy being idiots to notice. I hate that I did this to her hate how she became cold, detached, a shadow of the vibrant woman who used to light up every room she entered.

The guilt eats me up sometimes. I can't help but feel like I altered the entire trajectory of her life. Sometimes that hidden diamond is best held onto, treasured, protected. It was such a beauty to witness Nneoma's soul in this lifetime. She reminded me of myself in the past that raw, real love that takes tremendous courage. Love like Nneoma's doesn't come around often, and I took it for granted like a complete fool.

I really fucked up. I didn't value her at the time when her value was immeasurable. I made her feel like she was wrong to speak up, wrong to demand better, wrong to love me the way she did.

The memory of reading her journal still haunts me. The ice-cold realization that washed over me when I recognized myself in her words not as the hero I imagined myself to be, but as the villain I had become. Every word reverberated through my core like a bell tolling my sins. I felt so seen, so exposed, stripped bare of all my pretenses and justifications.

I did block her before, out of sheer exhaustion and confusion. I had a girlfriend then, and I was trying to do right by her. But Nneoma - Nneoma was and has always been the one girl who gets all my attention without even trying. I naturally gravitate toward her like a moth to flame, helpless against her pull.

I never felt like a weakling until Nneoma came into my life. She had this control over me that I couldn't speak about, couldn't even acknowledge to myself. I knew that having both her and my girlfriend in my life would make me cheat not necessarily physically, but emotionally, which might be even worse.

The relationship between me and Nneoma might have been a game to me, but it was painfully real to her. She could remember every activity down to the date, every conversation, every moment we shared, while I made it a point to gaslight her, to make her feel alone in remembering our history. I made myself the villain without intending to, then got comfortable wearing that role like a well-fitted suit.

I am so sorry, Nneoma. I kept messing up, kept hurting the one person who loved me with a purity I'd never witnessed before. I had to pick my girlfriend then had to give her all the love and attention and everything money could buy. Because if Nneoma was in the picture, I wouldn't be able to become as intimate as I wanted to be with my girlfriend. Nneoma lived rent-free in my head, occupying spaces I didn't even know existed.

Sometimes I thought of her more than my then-girlfriend, and it was driving me crazy. Everything was spiraling out of control like a car careening down a mountain road. I wondered if she had moved on, if she had found someone who could love her the way she deserved.

I made her feel like I hated her when the truth was the complete opposite. I was surprised to see her happy and thriving without me surprised and, if I'm being honest, devastated. I couldn't keep two women on lockdown, couldn't maintain that level of emotional manipulation indefinitely.

Nneoma became free when I blocked her the biggest mistake I ever made. I loved the euphoria of power I had over her, loved watching her beg for things I would naturally do for others. She was my prisoner, and I held the keys to her soul. Little did she know, I was hers too.

Her soul was so pure, so genuine, that I thought I would hold the front seat in her heart forever. Until she flipped the script. She voiced her pain, channeled it into the right things, found her strength and her voice. Meanwhile, I was going crazy wondering how she was breathing without me her supposed source of air.

I played the caring therapist when it was really just a power play, a way to maintain control. I had left emotionally long before I blocked her; she was just too slow to catch up to my cruelty.

But now I'm back, and I would do anything to get her back. When I say anything, I mean any freaking thing. The desire burns through me like wildfire, consuming rational thought.

But now I'm back, and I would do anything to get her back. When I say anything, I mean any freaking thing. I would do anything to bury my face between her legs while she lightly pulls my hair. I would suck it until she comes over and over again, her body trembling under my touch. I would do anything to kiss her until she's breathless, to touch those small breasts of hers that leave me breathless just thinking about them.

I would give anything to have her close her cute little mouth around my hardness. I've experienced different girls making me climax while doing that, but Nneoma's touch is different electric, addictive. The moment I spring free in her mouth, she sucks so well, taking her tongue round and round like a rollercoaster of pure pleasure. When she gets to the tip, I can feel myself coming all over again.

I miss her body responding to mine, miss guiding her on how to touch me just right. I miss my hand being on her head while she lightly removes it with that teasing smile. I miss asking if it's okay to finish in her mouth and watching her look up at me with those eyes before nodding her consent. I can feel myself getting hard just thinking about it, right here in this dimly lit bar.

If I ever get to plunge myself deep within her walls, what an honor that would be in this lifetime. I would mark her as mine in body and soul, plant my seed in her, make her completely mine. I would ride her like you ride a wild horse, stretch her to the depths of herself and then stretch her even more until her walls expand beyond reach. She might need crutches to walk after I'm done with her every step she takes will sting as a sweet reminder that I was inside her.

Mark my words I will make sure she feels me in every movement, every breath.

I tighten my grip around the glass, feeling the cool surface warm under my palm. A light like hers is something I want in my world forever. I know it's greedy of me, selfish even, but I want her with every fiber of my being.

They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I think they're wrong, because they should try stopping a desperate man going hunting at full force. I smirk hard because I know Nneoma like I know myself I know exactly how to reach her, how to break down the walls she's built.

Nneoma will be mine through all generations to come.

Kamsi breaks through my thoughts, his voice cutting through the bar's ambient noise. "Man, you look dangerous. What are you up to?"

I laugh, the sound dark and promising. "You'll see."

Kamsi narrows his eyes at me, studying my face in the dim light. "You're impossible," he says, shaking his head.

I raise my glass in a silent toast, the amber liquid catching the light one more time before I take a sip, savoring both the burn of alcohol and the burn of determination.

Kamsi's POV

The tension in Diadem's jaw is visible even in the bar's dim lighting as he keeps tightening his fist around the cup. The veins in his forearms stand out like cords, and I can't seem to get through to him anymore. He looks inhumane sitting there, smiling at this moment like he's planning something that should scare us all.

I know he's thinking of ways to get Nneoma back, plotting and scheming like some kind of romantic terrorist. This guy needs to let Nneoma go. You've caused her so much pain, man. You can't give her the love she deserves so why do you want to keep trying?

Valerie doesn't speak to me about Nneoma anymore because she knows I might tell Diadem. Nneoma's inner circle members are like a secret cult, protective and loyal. If it were me, I'd do the same thing. Diadem would end up breaking himself beyond recognition with all this madness he's performing.

That's the thing about Nneoma she isn't performing. She's just being still within herself, authentic and real. Yet here's Diadem, acting out drama like he's auditioning for a role he's already lost. People who are real don't get fazed by theatrical actions, especially when they've been through what you put them through before. They remember everything.

Since he won't listen to my pleas they've fallen on completely deaf ears I'll just have to be there to comfort him when he inevitably breaks himself. That kind of self-destruction takes much longer to heal from than just admitting fault.

Diadem, when will you learn? It would be so much easier to just say, "I messed up. I'm sorry. I didn't know how to handle the love you gave me." Nneoma would actually accept that not all this elaborate scheming and manipulation.

Sigh.I don't know how I can help this guy anymore. It's getting crazy, and I pray Nneoma doesn't fall for him again. Truthfully, he's going to destroy her if she does.

I pull out my phone, needing a distraction from Diadem's intense energy. The screen glows as I text Valerie: "I miss my baby."

Kam: Hey! You left your baby?

V: Hey love, leave me for who?

I chuckle despite the heavy atmosphere.

Kam: I haven't heard from you in a few minutes 🤣 I miss you, love.

V: I'm so sorry, love. I went paragliding.

She sends images and videos that make my phone buzz with notifications. As I open them, the bright images of sky and landscape fill my screen such a contrast to the dark, smoky atmosphere of this bar.

I spot Chukwudera looking too focused on Valerie in one of the photos, his attention fixed on her in a way that makes my jaw clench. He better not mess with my girl, or I'll break his arms. I also spot Marv and Yu in the background of another shot.

Where are Wale and Nneoma? I start to wonder, then stop myself. Stupid question they probably had other things to do. Better things than sitting in a dark bar watching a man slowly lose his mind.

I need to distract Diadem from whatever dark thoughts are consuming him. As I start putting my phone down, his voice cuts through the ambient noise of the bar.

"What are you looking at with such deep focus?" Before I can answer, he jacks the phone from my hands with surprising speed.

I quickly lock the screen before he can see anything, but he knows my password. Of course he does. He unlocks it with practiced ease while I try desperately to drag it out of his hands.

But he doesn't let go. His grip is iron-strong, fueled by whatever demons are driving him tonight. He finally sees the pictures and videos, his face transforming as he processes what he's seeing.

The glass cup leaves his hand like a missile, flying across the dimly lit space before it smashes against the wine cabinet .

This is getting way too crazy.

I stare endlessly at the destruction Diadem has wrought the shattered glass catching the wine cabinet dim lights like fallen stars, the liquid dripping down the wall like tears.

---

Barbie as Narrator

Boy oh boy, Diadem was actually being real for the first time in this whole mess! Girl, if I were you, I would hide myself away in the deepest, darkest corner I could find. Diadem is thinking very dangerously right now, and that comment about holding the keys to her soul? Chef's kiss ! terrifyingly poetic!

And this line right here: "They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I think they were wrong because they should try stopping a desperate man going hunting at full force. I know Nneoma like I know myself. I know how to reach her. Nneoma will be mine through all generations to come."

Honey, that got me shaking in my metaphorical boots! People, we are about to experience a level of crazy that we clearly haven't seen enough of yet. I feel for Kamsi, honestly that man is trying to be the voice of reason in a hurricane of obsession.

We're balanced on the edge of a cliffhanger that's about to send us all tumbling into chaos. Please like and subscribe, and share this with your loves because things are about to get very, very interesting!

The tension crackles in the air like electricity before a storm, and somewhere in the distance, you can almost hear the sound of hearts breaking and destinies shifting...