My Father-In-Law Sends Me Money Not To Touch His Daughter At Night
CHAPTER 1
I swear I didn’t marry her for money.
I’m not that kind of man. I may not have much, but I have pride. My name is Nonso — thirty-two, from a dusty part of Enugu where we learned to eat disappointment with bare hands. I grew up fixing generators and air conditioners. By twenty-five, I had my own small company in Lagos. Nothing big — just two boys under me and one keke to carry tools. But I was managing.
Then I met Ada.
She came to service her AC and left with my heart. Sharp girl, soft voice. The type that smells like money without showing off. I didn’t even know who her father was until three months into the relationship. By then, I was already too deep.
The first time I entered their mansion at Banana Island, I knew I had entered another world. Cold, quiet, too clean. Like a hospital with expensive chairs.
Her father didn’t say much. Just looked at me like he was trying to read my past, present and future all at once. Her mother smiled too much. She called me “young man” like I was applying for houseboy work.
We did a small wedding. No crowd. Just family and a few important people that looked like senators without the agbada.
After that, they moved us into one of their flats in Lekki. Already furnished. Already paid for five years. I didn’t argue. I didn’t feel like a man anymore, but I didn’t argue.
The first night after the wedding, she faced the wall.
No kisses. No “let’s talk.” No "I’m tired." Just silence.
I thought maybe she was shy. Or nervous. Or tired. I respected her space.
Second night — same thing.
Third night, I reached for her, gently. Her body stiffened.
“Don’t,” she whispered, without turning.
I turned too. And I stayed awake till morning.
By 4 a.m., my phone buzzed. A credit alert. Ten million naira. From Chief Cletus Iduozor.
Her father.
Message:
“For your silence. And your discipline. Don’t ask questions. Don’t touch her.”
I stared at the screen for long. I even washed my face. It was real.
Ten million. For silence?
I looked at Ada, still sleeping like a baby. Nothing strange. Just… distant.
Was she sick?
Was I being tested?
I wanted to call her father.
I wanted to ask him, "What exactly is going on?"
But something told me not to.
Something cold.
Something that sat quietly in my chest and said, “Leave it alone.”
That kind of silence you only hear in places where people pretend nothing is wrong — but everything is.
I couldn’t explain it. But deep inside me, I knew…
This wasn’t ordinary.
And whatever it was,
I had already entered too deep to walk out clean.
Support this chapter with 4k reactions and 3OO c0mmēñts. That's all I need to release chapter 2. Let's go!!
Fõllõw Akponwei Tells A Story so you don't miss any chapter.
© Solely Written by Akponwei John Michael
WARNING: DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!
CHAPTER 1
I swear I didn’t marry her for money.
I’m not that kind of man. I may not have much, but I have pride. My name is Nonso — thirty-two, from a dusty part of Enugu where we learned to eat disappointment with bare hands. I grew up fixing generators and air conditioners. By twenty-five, I had my own small company in Lagos. Nothing big — just two boys under me and one keke to carry tools. But I was managing.
Then I met Ada.
She came to service her AC and left with my heart. Sharp girl, soft voice. The type that smells like money without showing off. I didn’t even know who her father was until three months into the relationship. By then, I was already too deep.
The first time I entered their mansion at Banana Island, I knew I had entered another world. Cold, quiet, too clean. Like a hospital with expensive chairs.
Her father didn’t say much. Just looked at me like he was trying to read my past, present and future all at once. Her mother smiled too much. She called me “young man” like I was applying for houseboy work.
We did a small wedding. No crowd. Just family and a few important people that looked like senators without the agbada.
After that, they moved us into one of their flats in Lekki. Already furnished. Already paid for five years. I didn’t argue. I didn’t feel like a man anymore, but I didn’t argue.
The first night after the wedding, she faced the wall.
No kisses. No “let’s talk.” No "I’m tired." Just silence.
I thought maybe she was shy. Or nervous. Or tired. I respected her space.
Second night — same thing.
Third night, I reached for her, gently. Her body stiffened.
“Don’t,” she whispered, without turning.
I turned too. And I stayed awake till morning.
By 4 a.m., my phone buzzed. A credit alert. Ten million naira. From Chief Cletus Iduozor.
Her father.
Message:
“For your silence. And your discipline. Don’t ask questions. Don’t touch her.”
I stared at the screen for long. I even washed my face. It was real.
Ten million. For silence?
I looked at Ada, still sleeping like a baby. Nothing strange. Just… distant.
Was she sick?
Was I being tested?
I wanted to call her father.
I wanted to ask him, "What exactly is going on?"
But something told me not to.
Something cold.
Something that sat quietly in my chest and said, “Leave it alone.”
That kind of silence you only hear in places where people pretend nothing is wrong — but everything is.
I couldn’t explain it. But deep inside me, I knew…
This wasn’t ordinary.
And whatever it was,
I had already entered too deep to walk out clean.
Support this chapter with 4k reactions and 3OO c0mmēñts. That's all I need to release chapter 2. Let's go!!
Fõllõw Akponwei Tells A Story so you don't miss any chapter.
© Solely Written by Akponwei John Michael
WARNING: DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!
Topic Live
