I met him at a lounge in Abuja. Gucci slides. Dior shades. A Benz parked outside with “B I G D A D D Y” on the plate.
He bought drinks for everyone.
Slay queens were flocking.
But he kept looking at me.
He said his name was Tony.
That he just flew in from London.
His accent? On point.
He took me to Transcorp Hilton that night.
Presidential suite. Champagne. Money sprayed like water.
We spent 3 days together.
He gave me ₦200k cash just for “looking pretty.”
I was falling. Told all my girls: “I’ve found the one.” Then one afternoon, I decided to surprise him.
Went back to Transcorp —
Only to find him…
Wearing a waiter uniform.
Serving pepper soup.
I froze.
He tried to lie again — said it was a “social experiment.”
That he “owns the hotel” but likes to understand how staff behave.
I laughed.
But deep down, my heart broke. He borrowed that Benz. He begged his friend for Continue_Reading.
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