The Billionaire's secret contract

Favour stood in the middle of the crowded restaurant, her engagement ring in her palm, and watched her fiancé kiss another woman. Not just any woman. Her own cousin. The restaurant was one of those expensive places where a single plate cost more than her monthly salary,the kind of place Frank had insisted on because "appearances matter, Favour, you know how these things are." She had dressed carefully. A modest blue dress. Simple earrings. Hair pulled back. She had even worn the heels that pinched her feet because he liked how they made her legs look. She had arrived early to surprise him. She was the one who got the surprise. Frank Okoye, heir to the Okoye oil fortune, had his hand on her cousin Linda's waist. His mouth was on Linda's mouth. They were laughing about something, their heads bent together like they had been doing this for years which, Favour realized with a sick lurch in her stomach, they probably had. The engagement ring felt heavy in her hand. Three months. Three months of planning a wedding. Three months of smiling at his mother's snide comments. Three months of pretending she didn't notice the late-night phone calls, the unexplained absences, the way Linda always seemed to be around when Frank was "working late." She should have known. Deep down, she had known. But Favour had spent twenty-six years learning to swallow her pride, to smile through the pain, to be grateful for whatever scraps of affection the world threw at her. She had grown up in a house where her father never looked at her, where her mother died young, where her only value was what she could do for others. Frank had seemed like salvation. He had chosen her—plain, quiet Favour—over all the glamorous women who threw themselves at him. He had told her she was special. He had told her she was different. He had lied. She could feel the tears building behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of them. She walked forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a countdown. Frank looked up. His face went white. "Favour—" "Don't." Her voice came out steady, which surprised her. "Don't say my name. Don't touch me. Don't explain." "Favour, please, it's not what it looks like—" "It looks like you're kissing my cousin in a restaurant while I stand here wearing the ring you gave me." She held up the ring, letting it catch the light. "It looks exactly like what it is." Linda had the decency to look embarrassed. She stepped back from Frank, smoothing her dress, her cheeks flushed. "Favour, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." "You didn't mean to sleep with my fiancé? You didn't mean to lie to my face for months? You didn't mean to make me look like a fool?" Favour laughed, and it was a cold, hollow sound. "You're not sorry, Linda. You're just sorry you got caught." She turned back to Frank. He was reaching for her, his eyes desperate. "Favour, I love you. I love only you. Linda is nothing..." "She's my cousin, Frank. My family. And you're in a public restaurant with her." Favour placed the ring on the table between them. It landed with a soft clink. "I hope you two are very happy together." She turned and walked out. Outside, the rain had started. Favour stood on the sidewalk, her dress soaked within seconds, and tried to remember how to breathe. Her phone was buzzing in her purse—Frank, probably, or Linda, or maybe even Frank's mother calling to tell her she was being dramatic. She didn't answer. She had nowhere to go. Her father had made it clear years ago that she was not welcome back home. Her friends—well, she didn't really have friends. Frank had slowly isolated her from everyone, convincing her that he was all she needed. And now she had nothing. She sank onto a bench, the rain soaking through her dress, and buried her face in her hands. She had given Frank everything. Her time. Her devotion. Her body. Her dreams. She had dropped out of university to support him while he built his business. She had moved to a new city for him. She had become the perfect little fiancée, always smiling, always grateful, always accommodating. And this was her reward. "Excuse me." She looked up. A man was standing in front of her, holding a black umbrella. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His hair was dark, with silver streaks at the temples. His face was sharp, handsome, and strangely familiar. "I'm sorry to bother you," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "But you look like you could use this." He held out the umbrella. Favour stared at it like it was foreign. "I don't—I can't—" "Take it." He crouched down in front of her, ignoring the rain soaking through his expensive shoes. Up close, his eyes were a piercing grey, the color of storm clouds. "You're soaked. You're shaking. And you're clearly having the worst day of your life." "I'm fine," she whispered, but the tears started again, hot and uncontrollable. "No, you're not." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. It was monogrammed. "Here. Take this too." Favour took the handkerchief and pressed it to her face. The fabric smelled like sandalwood and something clean, something expensive. She cried harder. "I'm sorry," she managed. "I don't normally—" "Don't apologize." He stood up and held the umbrella over her. "What's your name?" "Favour." "Favour." He repeated it slowly, like he was tasting the word. "I'm David." David. The name clicked something in her memory. She looked up at him again, and this time, she recognized him. The sharp jaw. The grey eyes. The power that radiated off him like heat. "David Okoye," she breathed. "Frank's brother." His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. "You know Frank?" "He's my fiancé." She laughed, a broken, bitter sound. "Was my fiancé. I just caught him kissing my cousin." David was silent for a moment. Then he said, "My brother has always been an idiot." Favour stared at him. "You're not surprised." "I'm not." He sat down on the bench beside her, holding the umbrella to cover both of them. "Frank has been cheating on every woman he's ever been with. Including you. I suspected, but I didn't have proof." "And you didn't think to tell me?" "Would you have believed me? A stranger? A man you've never met?" He looked at her, his grey eyes steady. "Or would you have thought I was trying to sabotage my brother?" Favour was quiet. He was right. She wouldn't have believed him. "I want to help you," David said. "Why?" "Because my brother destroyed you in a restaurant full of witnesses. Because you deserve better. Because I need someone who can help me with something—and I think you're exactly what I've been looking for." Favour wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. "What do you mean?" David leaned closer, his voice dropping. "My brother is about to become the public face of the Okoye empire. He's supposed to inherit the CEO position from our father next month. But Frank isn't fit to run a company. He's a playboy, a fool, and a liar. If he takes control, he'll run the Okoye name into the ground." "What does that have to do with me?" "I need someone on the inside," David said. "Someone who can help me expose Frank for what he is. Someone who knows his weaknesses. Someone he trusts." He paused. "That was you." Favour stared at him. "You want me to spy on your brother." "I want you to get revenge." David's eyes burned into hers. "I want you to help me take Frank down. And in return, I'll give you something you've never had." "What?" "Security. A future. And the satisfaction of watching the man who broke you lose everything." Favour's heart was pounding. This was insane. This was dangerous. This was— "One condition," she said slowly. "Name it." "You sign a contract. A legal contract. If I help you, you protect me. If I help you, you give me what I need to start over. A house, a job, a new life. Everything in writing." David smiled. It was a slow, dangerous smile that made her stomach flip. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said. "Because I already had one drawn up." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded document. Favour took it, her hands trembling. "You had a contract ready?" she asked. "Before you even met me?" "I've been watching Frank for years," David said. "I knew he would ruin you. I just had to wait for the right moment to pick up the pieces." Favour looked at the contract. Then at David. Then at the rain still pouring around them. This was either the worst decision of her life or the best. She thought of Frank's lips on Linda's. She thought of the ring on the table. She thought of the years she had wasted, the dreams she had sacrificed, the woman she had become. Then she looked at David. "I'll do it," she said. "But I have my own terms." David's smile widened. "I'm listening." "I want to be the one who tells him," Favour said. "When he loses everything—I want to be the one who watches him realize he was destroyed by the woman he threw away." David held out his hand. "Deal." Favour shook it. And somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled across the sky. My lovely readers! What do you think Favour should do first? Should she confront Frank right away, or play the long game and destroy him slowly? The choice is hers, but I'd love to hear your thoughts! Comment "REVENGE" if you're rooting for Favour to bring Frank down! Next chapter: Favour discovers that David's contract has a clause she didn't expect... and it might ruin her revenge before it even begins.