My Wicked STEPMOTHER Married Me Off to a 75-Year-OLD POOR Man… What happened next…
That word did not even begin to describe Felicia.
She ruled the house with a quiet cruelty that rarely needed shouting. Her voice was soft, almost sweet at times, but her actions carried a weight that pressed heavily on Soma’s chest every single day. Especially when it came to her daughter, Caro.
Caro was everything Soma was not allowed to be. She wore bright fabrics that caught attention, laughed loudly without consequence, and had the freedom to dream about a future filled with comfort, love, and wealth.
Soma, on the other hand, was taught to be invisible.
“Some people are born to climb,” Felicia would say calmly while adjusting Caro’s hair. “Others are born to be used as steps.”
And somehow, Soma always knew exactly which one she was.
The first time Baba Akutu spoke to her, it was by the roadside near the old mango tree.
“Daughter,” he called gently, his voice dry like harmattan wind. “Can you help me carry this?”
Soma turned, noticing the small sack beside him. Without hesitation, she walked over.
“It’s not too heavy, sir,” she said, lifting it with ease. “Where are you taking it?”
