Dictates Of The Heart Excerpts from the book Dictates of the Heart. by Chinyere Obinna

Warning: The book Dictates of the Heart is copyrighted material. No portion of Dictates of the Heart may be reprinted, distributed or disseminated without my permission written permission. Chinyere Obinna.


That evening, Nikki drove to Nat’s house in her battered old Honda Civic, the one that her servants used to run errands for her. That was the first car that she ever owned; Tom had surprised her with it when she got her first acting role and she still hung on to that car for reasons that she could not explain. As she drove past the massive gate that protected her property, she reached into the glove compartment of the Honda and pulled out the black, floppy crushed cotton hat and the dark glasses, which she had kept hidden in there and pulled the hat low over her eyes.

She drove through the darkening streets, and her thoughts drifted to Tom, good old Tom, the man that always stood by her even through her admittedly crazy episodes. Tom had offered to drive her today, but she had calmly refused.
"So where are you going so late all by yourself?" Tom had queried. "It is getting dark you know, and there's no telling what might happen in the streets of Lagos.”
"Oh Tom never mind," she had brushed him off and then softened a bit. Tom was after all was another ally, and there was no sense in trying to alienate him now.
"I, I am going to see a sick relative, and this is a solo project," she had lied as she brushed her lips lightly on his unshaven jaw before grabbing the keys and rushing off.
Sick relative indeed, she laughed as she slowed the car to buy a pack of cigarette from a street vendor. Nikki had no living relative as far as she was concerned. The only living relative that she had was aunt Nonye, the woman that raised her, but Aunt Nonye was dead to her now.

"Fifty Naira madam," said the dark skinned youth, who was standing by her car window, a bulky box filled with sundry wares hanging from a twine from his neck. There was no flicker of recognition on his face when he placed the slim white and green pack in her hand. Nikki paid him, and drove on, the wheels of her car stirring up a choking cloud of dust. She was glad that her little disguise worked. She did not want to be hounded by autograph seekers or the press, or draw attention to herself at this time.

She arrived at Nat’s Okukpe Estate address in the fancier region of the Maryland section of Lagos exactly on time. As she she stepped out of the small car, she glanced behind her, and assured that she was not being followed, she sounded the buzzer three times, just as she and Nat had agreed. The scrolled iron gates swung open, and she drove through. When she parked her car in the driveway, she noticed that the estate seemed deserted. She approached the ornate front door, and sounded the buzzer.
"Come in, the door's open," a disembodied voice said, startling her, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
"Oh, silly," she whispered to herself as she realized that it was Nat’s voice coming over some sort of security system. Her eyes darted around, searching for a hidden camera, or speakers, but all that she saw were the sparkling facade of Nat’s stone walled estate. With trembling fingers, she turned the crystal doorknob, and the door swung easily open.
She found herself in Nat’s cavernous living room, facing a fifty-inch projector television. Nikki had been here several times in her checkered past, and she knew the layouts of the house like the back of her hand. The house was as meticulously kept as ever. Nat was as exacting on his household staff as he was unscrupulous with his mistresses.
Nikki took off her hat and sunglasses, and laid them on a glass topped King Louis IV end table of polished mahogany. A sound very close to her startled her and she jumped for the second time that evening.
"It's only me, my beautiful Nikki," an effeminate sounding voice said from behind her.
She whirred around to find herself looking down at Nat’s fleshy face. I
"H, how did you g, get there---? I, I didn't see you before," she asked in a hoarse voice.
"Never mind my sweet," he said in his strangely effeminate voice, chuckling low in his throat.
Nat was as short, as squat, and as ugly as ever. His pudgy face was still as greasy as she remembered and still punctuated by pockmarks no doubt from the rich foods that he couldn't resist. He was wearing a very expensive maroon colored Dior silk robe with a corded silk rope, tied tightly around his porcine mid section, and his chubby feet were shoved into bedroom slippers of a silky material.
Without the benefit of the lifts that he normally wore in his shoes, Nat looked like a cross between a fat little boy and a dwarf. His face was glistening with tiny droplets of water, which he was mopping with a small face towel. His jaw dropped into a grotesque grin, and he offered her a sweaty paw.
"Do sit down my dear," he said in his effeminate voice, waving her towards a chair. He belched softly, and settled his plump buttocks on a white, damask covered King Louis XIV chair next to hers and dropped his face towel into a gold foil bucket next to his chair.
He opened his chest, giving Nikki a revolting view of his flabby flesh, the vision that she had worked so hard to forget, and sprayed liberally at his chest from a bottle of cologne, which was sitting on the end table next to him. He replaced the cologne bottle on the end table and leaned back in his chair, his short legs not quite reaching the floor.
Watching him, Nikki was reminded of a baby hippo, with his fleshy face, his bloated belly, which was cut in half by the belt of his robe, which was tightly wound around his belly,and his short, squat legs, which were sticking straight in front of him. Nikki was overcome by an overwhelming feeling of revulsion, but she steeled herself. She was after all, on a mission, and not even her violent dislike for the slobbering bastard was going to interfere with her mission.
“Ah, the lovely Nikki, alone at last,” he said, leering at her. Nikki arranged her face into a smile, and Nat beamed. He farted loudly, and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rustling the pages of a daily newspaper, which was lying on the glass-topped end table to disguise the sound. He picked up the cologne bottle again, and sprayed it on his neck to mask the insidious odor from his body intermingled with the gas. With great effort, he heaved his body from the chair.
"What may I offer you," he asked.
"Scotch will do, no ice," she responded tersely.
Nat waddled over to the mahogany bar, and poured two glasses of scotch. He handed one to Nikki, who grabbed the glass and threw back the strong liquid. She closed her eyes as she felt the familiar warmth spreading through her veins. She placed the heavy cut crystal glass on a coaster that Nat had placed on the end table, and went straight to business.
"Nat, Like I mentioned before, I need a favor from you." Nat regarded her through small, bloodshot eyes, and Nikki averted her gaze from his repugnant face, concentrating instead on the ambiance of Nat’s beautiful living room.
"Anything that I can do to please the lovely Nikki, just tell me," Nat said expansively, and belched.
"I want you take care of somebody for me, a young lady," she said succinctly through clenched teeth.
"Hmm Anything for you Nikki,” Nat said, staring hungrily at her.
“Somebody crossed me in a big way. I won’t bore you with the details but I want you to take care of her for me.”“You want someone eliminated?" Nat said with a diabolic gleam in his eyes.

"Oh no, nothing like that Nat, just roughed up a bit----- you know, emotional trauma.”
"Just kidding," Nat said quickly with a tight little grin. He had to be careful. He didn't know if he was walking into a trap.
"Seriously now, what do you want me to do?" he asked with a greasy smile.
Nikki stood up, and started to pace around Nat’s cavernous living room. She pulled out a slim cigarette from her purse and Nat jumped to instant attention, grabbing a gold cigarette lighter from the top of the console table. He flicked it on and touched the tip of the dancing flame to the blunt end of Nikki’s cigarette, which was now dangling from her red painted lip. Nikki inhaled deeply and let the smoke drift out of her pursed lips. Nat refilled their glasses and glanced at Nikki. She downed the second glass in one gulp, made a face, and perched herself on the arm of Nat’s sofa.
"Nat, I need a big favor,” she said. “There's a certain young lady who crossed me recently. I won't go into details, but I can tell you that she has stars in her eyes with dreams of becoming a model. I saw her exchange numbers at a party with Olufemi Martins------.”
“Martins? That’s one of my admen,” Nat interjected.
“Yep, and this is where you come in.”
Nikki detailed her plan to Nat, who licked his lips in greedy anticipation. He had no problems with doing what Nikki wanted, as dirty as it was. In fact, he was looking forward to that.
"I am sure that she has no scruples about sleeping her way to the top” Nat said. "Just like you," Nat was tempted to add, but he refrained himself.
“Nat.... I mean, you can do all the dirty things that you want with her, but I don't want her to get the job. The disappointment that she will no doubt feel about selling her body for nothing will be rewards enough for me," Nikki said with a sly smile.
Nat took a hard look at the beautiful woman sitting in his living room sofa. She was cool, poised, and drop dead gorgeous and she was cold hearted. That was exactly how he liked his women.
"How did you get to be so hard as nails Nikki?" he asked with a greasy smile on his porcine face. His cold, fish eyes regarded her with admiration. Nikki tapped her hard acrylic nails on the center table. She smiled sweetly, and raised her glass. "From dealing with guys like you," she deadpanned, without a hint of emotion crossing her beautiful face.
She walked to the bar, and poured herself three shots of straight scotch.
She would need the alcohol to steady her nerves for the task at hand. Nikki downed the drink in three gulps, and leaned back as the liquid seared an angry path down her throat. She poured three more stiff drinks, and quickly downed them. Soon she began to feel a buzz and through her alcoholic fog, Nat seemed more tolerable.
Nat dragged his corpulent body closer to Nikki. This was the time to play his trump card. He didn't trust Nikki any further than he could throw her, and he knew that he could be walking into a set-up. There was no telling what recording device she concealed in that Coach handbag on the table. Now was the time to collect on his insurance policy.
"Nikki," he said in his effeminate voice, inching even closer to her. It’s been such a long time, and you look just as ravishing as ever. I have longed for you for so long and seeing your beautiful face again has made me ----very horny. Kiss me sweetheart, for old time's sake.”
Nat closed his eyes, and pursed his thick lips. Nikki would rather spit into his drooling mouth, but she had expected this. She steeled her nerves and stood up. Nat’s eyes were still squeezed shut. He had an expectant look on his face, like a child waiting for his mother to scoop gooey chocolate fudge ice cream into a sugar cone. He looked like a corpulent toad, sitting there on the sofa, his porcine belly rising and falling sharply in his excitement, his short, chubby legs sticking straight out in front of him, not quite reaching the floor.
Nikki had an overwhelming desire to slam her fist into his slobbering lips and knock out all his teeth, but she restrained that urge with supreme self-control. Her desire to topple her enemy was stronger than her dislike for the nasty little man.


Caution! Dictates of the Heart is copyrighted material. No portion from this book may be copied, distributed, shared or circulated in any way without my written permission. Regards