LUXORA GROUP (U.S.A)
(A towering glass skyscraper pierces the sky, its surface reflecting sunlight like a blade. Inside, the building breathes power heels clicking on marble floors, elevators sliding open and shut, voices low but urgent. Every movement carries purpose.)
HANNAH’S OFFICE — DAY
(The office is massive, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The air smells faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood. Everything is perfectly arranged, untouched, controlled.)
(HANNAH sits behind her desk, posture straight, fingers moving swiftly across her laptop while a phone rests between her ear and shoulder. Her voice is calm, calculated. PAULA stands opposite her, flipping through files, occasionally glancing at her tablet.)
(Then)
BANG!
(The door flies open so hard it slams against the wall.)
(HANNAH’s fingers pause mid-typing. Her eyes lift slowly, sharp, cutting.)
(SOPHIA storms in, her heels striking the floor aggressively, her chest rising and falling with anger.)
Sofia: Hey, prostitute!
(Her voice slices through the room. She walks closer, each step heavy with intention, stopping just a few feet away.)
(PAULA freezes for a split second, then rolls her eyes slightly, clearly irritated.)
Sofia: (without looking at her) Do I need to use a microphone before your empty skull understands I want privacy?
(PAULA clenches her jaw, fingers tightening around the tablet. She turns to HANNAH silently.)
(HANNAH doesn’t look at her. She simply lifts her hand slightly—dismissal.)
Paula: (controlled) Please excuse me.
(She walks out, but her steps are a bit sharper than usual.)
(The door closes.)
(HANNAH continues typing.)
Hannah: (calm, into the phone) How about we move it to this evening?
Sofia: (explodes) Hey! Are you insane?! I’m standing right here!
(HANNAH raises a single finger toward her, without looking at her.)
(Silence command.)
Hannah: …Mr. Johnson, I’ll call you back shortly. Yes… in a jiffy.
(She ends the call slowly, placing the phone down with precision.)
(Then she looks up.)
(Direct eye contact. No emotion.)
Hannah: You were saying?
(SOPHIA blinks, thrown off for a second. Then anger floods back.)
Sofia: How dare you? I said...how dare you?!
Hannah: For?
(That one word lands like a slap.)
Sofia: (laughs bitterly) I thought you were just a naive fool… but now? You’re becoming a problem.
Hannah: (leans back slightly) I don’t have time for this. Say what you came to say… or leave.
(SOPHIA’s mouth opens slightly, shock flickers across her face.)
Sofia: What did you just.....
(She swallows it, forcing composure.)
Sofia: I never knew you were this useless.
Hannah: (raises a brow slowly) Go on.
Sofia: (steps closer) How dare you steal my man?! The man I was supposed to marry!
(Her voice cracks with anger.)
Sofia: You went behind our backs… and proposed to him?!
(A pause.)
(HANNAH’s lips curl slightly.)
Hannah: Your man?
(A soft, amused exhale.)
Hannah: Interesting.
(She tilts her head.)
Hannah: I guess he’s more valuable than I thought… everyone seems desperate for him.
(SOPHIA’s fists clench.)
Hannah: So what exactly is the issue?
Sofia: (shouting) I was meant to marry him!
(Silence.)
(HANNAH leans forward slowly, her voice dropping, colder now.)
Hannah: Well… I’m the one doing that now.
(Beat.)
Hannah: So why are you yelling?
(The room feels tighter.)
Hannah: It’s business. I’m helping this family.
(Her eyes darken.)
Hannah: Saving you the trouble.
(Pause.)
Hannah: And besides… I’m the eldest.
(Her tone sharpens slightly.)
Hannah: I take what I want.
(SOPHIA stares at her, stunned.)
Hannah: You’ve always had everything handed to you.
(Leans in slightly.)
Hannah: This one… is mine.
(Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.)
Hannah: Not Dad. Not your mother.
(Her voice drops to a whisper, dangerous.)
Hannah: No one stops me.
(She gestures toward the door without looking.)
Hannah: Leave… before I have you dragged out.
(SOPHIA trembles slightly, not from fear, but rage.)
Sofia: You wouldn’t dare.
(She steps closer, eyes burning.)
Sofia: I underestimated you.
(Her voice lowers, venomous.)
Sofia: But you just started a war.
(Leans in, almost whispering.)
Sofia: And I’ll finish it… by sending you back to where you belong.
(A pause.)
Sofia: Because you’re not one of us.
(Her lips curl.)
Sofia: And you never will be.
(She turns sharply and storms out......)
BANG!
(The door slams shut.)
(Silence floods the room again.)
(HANNAH doesn’t move immediately. Her fingers tap lightly on the table once… twice… then stop.)
HANNAH’S POV
She’s right about one thing.
This is war.
And I’m tired of losing.
I’ve spent my whole life watching them decide who I am… where I belong… how far I’m allowed to go.
Not anymore.
If this marriage is what it takes to break free from them… then so be it.
I don’t care what it costs.
I don’t care who gets hurt.
A slow breath leaves me.
They think I’m still that quiet girl they can control.
They have no idea.
A faint smile forms.
I will make them pay.
Every single one of them.
This is for you, Mom.
FADE OUT
----------------------
NIGERIA — LAGOS STATE
NIGHT — UNCOMPLETED BUILDING
(The structure stands half-finished, concrete pillars exposed, iron rods jutting out like broken bones. The night air is heavy, thick with dust and the faint smell of rust and blood. A single hanging bulb swings slightly, casting unstable shadows across the space.)
(MR. RICHARD is tied to a metal chair. His suit, once expensive, is now soaked and stiff with blood. His face is swollen, lips split, one eye barely open. Blood drips slowly from his chin, hitting the floor in uneven drops.)
(Three thugs circle him like predators, their movements impatient.)
THUD!
(A punch lands hard across his face.)
Mr. Richard: (choking, voice broken) Please… please… I’m begging you…
(Another blow to his stomach.)
Mr. Richard: Ahhh.......!
(His body jerks forward, the ropes digging deeper into his wrists. He gasps for air, struggling, failing.)
(Footsteps echo from the entrance.)
(Slow. Measured. Controlled.)
(The thugs pause immediately.)
(OMOTOSHO steps into the light, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His shoes crunch softly against gravel as he walks in, pulling on black gloves with calm precision.)
Omotosho: That’s enough.
(Silence falls instantly.)
(The thugs step back.)
(Omotosho walks closer, his expression unreadable. He stops in front of Mr. Richard, studying him like he’s nothing more than a broken object.)
(Then he bends slightly.)
Omotosho: So… Mr. Richard.
(A faint smile touches his lips.)
Omotosho: We meet again.
(MR. RICHARD struggles to lift his head. Recognition hits and fear follows instantly.)
Mr. Richard: (shaking violently) P-please… I’m sorry… I didn’t.... I don’t know anything… I swear…
Omotosho: (softly) Shhh…
(He raises a finger slowly, almost gently, signaling silence.)
Omotosho: Don’t ruin the moment.
(He straightens, adjusting his cuff.)
Omotosho: Last time we met… you spat on my shoes.
(Pause.)
Omotosho: Told me I couldn’t do anything to you.
(He tilts his head slightly, observing the man’s condition.)
Omotosho: Look at you now.
(MR. RICHARD begins to cry, his body trembling uncontrollably.)
Mr. Richard: Please… I have a wife… children… I’ll give you anything…
Omotosho: (without emotion) Anything?
(He gestures lightly.)
(One of the thugs brings forward a metal toolbox and places it on a nearby table.)
(The metallic sound echoes loudly in the empty building.)
(Omotosho opens it slowly.)
(Inside, different tools are neatly arranged,cold, clean, waiting.)
(He reaches in… and pulls out a plier.)
(MR. RICHARD’s breathing becomes frantic.)
Mr. Richard: No… no… please… don’t....
Omotosho: (calm, almost bored) The code.
(He grabs Mr. Richard’s hand firmly. His grip is strong, controlled.)
Omotosho: Tell me the code.
Mr. Richard: (crying, shaking) I swear! I don’t know anything! I swear on my mother!
(Omotosho watches him for a second.)
(No anger. No rush.)
Omotosho: That’s unfortunate.
(Then......)
CRACK.
(The plier snaps down on his finger.)
(A sickening sound follows.)
Mr. Richard: AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
(His scream tears through the building, echoing violently. Blood bursts out, dripping rapidly onto the floor.)
(His body convulses, shaking uncontrollably, breath breaking into uneven gasps.)
Omotosho: (quietly) I’ll ask again.
(He leans closer, voice dropping.)
Omotosho: The code.
Mr. Richard: (barely coherent) Ahhh… please… please…
(Omotosho raises the plier again. Slow. Intentional.)
Omotosho: Last chance.
Mr. Richard: I KNOW IT! I KNOW IT!!
(He cries out desperately.)
Mr. Richard: I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!
(Omotosho pauses, watching him carefully.)
Omotosho: Go on.
Mr. Richard: (panting, terrified) If I tell you… they’ll kill me…
(A beat.)
(Omotosho reaches calmly into a thug’s pocket and pulls out a gun.)
(He cocks it. The sound echoes.)
(He presses it lightly against Mr. Richard’s forehead.)
Omotosho: Then let me save them the trouble.
(Silence.)
(Mr. Richard breaks.)
Mr. Richard: A53##!!
(Everything goes still for a second.)
(Omotosho slowly smiles.)
(He pulls out a tablet, types it in.)
Omotosho: Good.
(Without hesitation)
BANG!
BANG!
(The shots echo violently. Mr. Richard’s body goes limp instantly, head dropping forward.)
(Blood runs down slowly, dripping to the floor.)
(Silence returns… heavy… suffocating.)
(Omotosho exhales slightly, then blows gently at the tip of the gun.)
Omotosho: Clean this up.
(He turns and walks away, his footsteps fading into the night as if nothing happened.)
(The bulb continues to swing above the lifeless body.)
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