Story cover for white mustard by thatboyuriel
white mustard
  • WpView
    Reads 47
  • WpVote
    Votes 1
  • WpPart
    Parts 32
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 47m
  • WpView
    Reads 47
  • WpVote
    Votes 1
  • WpPart
    Parts 32
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 47m
Complete, First published Jul 27, 2025
She was trained to see through lies.
But what if the biggest lie... was her own reality?

Leah Nworie is a 27-year-old detective with a flawless reputation, a loving fiancé, and a quiet yearning to start a family. But everything shatters the night she walks into a luxury Lekki mansion and finds a woman dead-smiling, eyes wide, and hand dipped in a bowl of powdered white mustard.

What begins as a murder investigation spirals into something far darker: ancient symbols etched in blood, whispers of a secret society operating from inside Lagos' most powerful homes, and a trail of deaths disguised as suicides.

As Leah digs deeper, reality begins to fracture. The dreams. The voices. The haunting shadow of a little girl who keeps calling her "Mama."

Everyone has secrets.
But some truths were buried for a reason.

And in the city where wealth hides sin, even the innocent will bleed.
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SHAMBLES

46 parts Complete

"Are you ready?" I said to her placing her long silky hair at the back of her head. She nodded. Her bewitching smile sending immense pleasure to my body. I pushed into her slowly- carefully and then with a little force. She forced a smile at first and in seconds her face had turned pale, hysterical- beastly! "Shit!. Shit!. Stoppppp Dotun - Please stopp." She screamed loudly like she was in enormous pain. I felt like I was in another world, lost in a haze of sensations-almost like I had found a place that felt like home. But then, reality struck. No matter how intense the moment, when a woman says stop, you stop. It doesn't matter how powerful the desire burning through you is. "Shit!" I yelled, fighting to pull myself back from the edge. The tension within me was overwhelming, the kind that tempts you to ignore everything but your own feelings. But I knew better-her voice, her comfort, and her trust meant everything. The desire could wait. Respect couldn't. Dammit!!! The sweet taste of a woman!!! Her personality, A ferocious saint, like fire and brimstone. He on the other hand, is like water yet powerless against her fire She was broken, a puzzle that was missing a piece. But he was willing to carve his own piece to complete her. They said her fire would consume him. But he was ready to be destroyed by her raging flames! Ranked 1 in #nigerianstories