The Billionaire who Ruined my Wedding

Chapter 1: The day my life broke open. It would be a joyful day for Adaeze Okafor. Music was sailing like an assurance. White flowers were hung upon the Cathedral of St Michael in Lagos, on each aisle of the Cathedral, and were swinging to the feast. Little men were laughing at each other, sharing the laughter of those who would prefer not to disrespect the fine. It was a well-sewed-up dream, dream. And Adaeze was there in the bridal room – somehow staring at Adaeze in the window like a stranger. The woman in the mirror was encircled with white lace and week-long hope. The dress was very tight, and her veil glittered with floating mist round her. But her hands – her hands, they were not true. They trembled. Her best friend, Ifeoma, had tossed the veil out of the way. 'You are shaking. You are smiling,' I said, Ifeoma. It is usual. Today is your everlasting day. Adaeze endeavoured to smile back; her face scowled. “It feels unreal.” 'And is it?' Ifeoma enquired. Thou shalt shortly become Mrs Tobias Emeka. She could not tell how tight the chest of Adaeze was when his name was spoken. Tobias. Her fiancé. Her future. Or so she believed. The Walk To Forever. And there was the wedding march. Doors opened. Light poured in. And Adaeze appeared. White roses grew along the line of the walk. Cameras lifted. Colloquiality considered and whispered. “She’s beautiful…” He seems to have them hand in hand... It is the noble of Lagos... Nonetheless, halfway along the aisle, things were different somehow. A sound. Not music. Not celebration. Sirens. It used to be remote. Then louder. Then violent. BOOM. The doors of the cathedral were opened wide. Uniforms flooded in. Police. Chaos followed instantly. Fingers are a thing of dry grass. Adaeze stopped walking. Her hands trembled in her bunch. And behold! She beheld him. Her father. Chief James Okafor. pushed shrivelled in cuffs. “No—!” With a scream Colonel Adaeze broke the silence. “Daddy!” Her bouquet fell. Blooms dropping round-about as innocence blazes. Her mother flung herself on her. Tourists stood stock-still, already reaching out to their phones – taping, transcribing, and consuming the demise of a family. A scream of voice burst through pandemonium. Chief James Okafor, your arrest is for financial fraud and money laundering as well as corporate embezzlement. The words were meaningless. He has to have fancied them. Adaeze shook her head. No, that can never be. My father is an unselfish person. He builds schools. He helps people!” No one listened. The crowd was already smouldering. Whispers became judgement. Judgement became hunger. And starvation was a scene. The Second Blow Then Adaeze turned. Tobias Emeka stood at the altar. Her groom. Her future. Still. Watching. But not moving. Her voice trembled, the voice of Tobias. “Do something. Please—say something!” He was playing with his cufflinks. Slowly. Carefully. The world she lived in was both a nuisance and overwhelming. So he then gazed upon her. And therein was no love she beheld. Not fear. Not confusion. Only distance. 'I cannot,' I said. The cathedral froze. Adaeze blinked hard. What? What is it, sir?” With a tremendous sigh of relief filled a man who would leave behind a decision already determined, Tobias. It has a very vulgar taste. Your father... this stuff... this would not come to be my politics. Her breath stopped. 'Why?' she said. During my marriage? He didn’t answer. Even worse than a confession was that silence. So he wheeled around. Just like that. Like she was never. Collapse The world tilted. It was something Adaeze had known before she could think of it. The betrayal. The humiliation. The ruin. Her knees weakened. "Hurrah," said one person who was far away, underwater. She is blooming with white flowers on her feet. Sirens behind her. Sense of the air. And all her life was founded on being flunked at the same time. And then— Silence again. Not peace. Just emptiness. The Arrival Cathedral doors opened once again. No turbulence was present this time. Only stillness. It was an ugly automobile, a portentous company. Men in dark suits were straight and walked on the ground, sweeping the way as though they were the ones that had slept. And he got in. Tall. Controlled. Peril in repose. Every action he took was obeyed – heard, not. The police appeared to be confused whether any authority could be held by the police anymore. Slooshingly, Adaeze exhaled from her head. One of her things became shrunken. She was not known to him. But there was something about her frame, which answered in reply. Garau, it is the danger of danger. He was stopped in front of her. She did not even know that he was a burden. His eyes would scan her face, as though he carried the answer to a matter in his pocket. Thou art Okafor Adaeze? he questioned. His voice was low. Even. Final. Yes... I said to myself... “Who are you?” He was not answering directly. He became stuck inside his jacket while trying to draw a file. He gave her. 'This is the way it is,' I said to him. Her hands were shaking, and she unclosed them. Pages. Contracts. Financial reports. Legal documents. And beneath everything— A marriage agreement. Her stomach dropped. "Such a joke"—some sort of joke, she said to herself. “Who are you?” A pause. Then: “Damian Cole.” The word was an electric shock from the hands of the room. Whispers erupted instantly. “Damian Cole…” “The Lagos investor…” The half-proprietor of all the city buildings... Adaeze could experience the difference in weather. He stepped closer. Thou hast the power to save thy father, said he. Her heart stuttered. “What?” Though I absolve the charges. I can rebuild the sainthood of your family. Before it scalds it all out of it, I may lay aside this scandal. Hope – burning, weary, wild hope – was in her heart. 'Then do,' she said hastily. Please. Whatever I say. A silence. Then— “One condition.” Her breath caught. “What condition?” His gaze was on her. Cold. Unblinking. “You marry me.” The blows could not spiritualise it. Adaeze disliked to consider it possible that she had not heard him. Then she laughed. Whatever it was, it was amusing. But it was beyond that. 'This nonsense of yours is a first rave,' she said. My father cuffed, my wedding ruined, and you believe I will make you my wife? “Yes.” Her voice broke. “Why me?” Damian did not turn his head away. Your father has robbed my family. She had devoured her lungs with words. 'No, no,' she said. “That’s not true.” “It is.” Yet he was still nearer; still, he came. And I am making that decision subject to your approval. His voice lowered. Wed, or I will get him and cook him in jail. The world was again quieted down. Otherwise, this silence. The silence was one that was suffocating. Adaeze looked at the contract. Then on her blessless bridal. She turned back toward her father. And last but not the least of the men before her who appeared to be a judge thereafter, determining the fate of her life. Her fingers moved. Slowly. Unsteadily. She took the pen. CLIFFHANGER The pencil was positioned on the piece of paper. One signature. One decision. One irreversible ending. Her breath shook. And then— Her phone vibrated. A message. Unknown number. She hesitated. Then I opened it. Damian Cole can not be trusted. Not all of what he is saying is about your father. Adaeze froze. The pencil stuck in between her fingers. Very slowly she opened her eyes. Damian was the target of her watchful gaze. Waiting. He knew what she would say as he had foreseen it. Or worse— He knew that there was no choice at all. And just when Adaeze was about to see something terrible: This was not the beginning of her salvation. It was birthing a good deal more death. Something that will perhaps save her father... But sin against her tends to her destruction.