THE CONTRACT BRIDE'S REVENGE

The gavel hit the wood and my entire life ended. "All assets of Cole Enterprises, including the family residence at No. 12 Peter Odili Road, all personal bank accounts, and all shares belonging to the late Mr. Thomas Cole, are hereby awarded to Mr. Richard Cole and Ms. Vanessa Cole. Case closed." Case closed. Two words. The judge said it like he was closing a file, not destroying a human being. He stood up, packed his papers, and left. Just like that. I sat in the second row of Courtroom 3 in my father's funeral dress, the black one I had worn for seven days after he died. My hands were shaking around a cheap brown handbag that contained exactly four dollars and ten cents, a phone with a cracked screen that wouldn't turn on anymore, and a will that my father wrote with his own hand that meant nothing today. No one looked at me. No one stayed for me. My lawyer had left halfway through the hearing because I told him I couldn't pay his balance of 50,000 naira. He just sighed, patted my shoulder, and said, "Sorry, Amelia. The law is the law." The law is the law. But what about justice? Across the courtroom, Richard Cole didn't even look at me. My ex-fiancé. The man who had knelt down in this same court three months ago when my father was alive and said, "Amelia, I will protect you forever." He was now holding my stepsister's hand. Vanessa Cole. My stepsister who I grew up with since I was ten. She was wearing a white designer dress and diamonds that used to be my mother's. She looked at me from across the room and smiled. That sweet, innocent, fake smile she had practiced in the mirror since we were children. "Sorry, Amelia," she mouthed, without sound. Then she giggled. The courtroom emptied. The clerk turned off the fan. I was alone. I walked out into the heavy rain in Port Harcourt. I had no umbrella. My car my small Toyota that my father bought for me when I entered university was now legally Richard's car. The driver was waiting for him outside, not me. I started walking. I didn't know where I was going. My house was no longer my house. My bank account was frozen. My friends had all blocked me after Richard told everyone I was a liar. The only place I could think of was the small diner on Aba Road where I used to work as a waitress when I was in secondary school, before my father found me and brought me home. Maybe the old woman who owned it would give me a plate of food for free. I pushed the door open, wet and shivering. The smell of fried rice and cheap perfume hit me. And then I saw him. Damien Carter. He was sitting alone at the VIP table by the window, even though this was a cheap diner and he was a billionaire who owned half of Rivers State. Black suit, black shirt, no tie. A watch that cost more than my father's entire company used to make in a year. His face was like stone that never learned how to smile. Every woman in Port Harcourt knew his name. Every man feared it. Damien Carter, 32, CEO of Carter Group, the man who never lost a business war. The man who destroyed companies for breakfast. And the man who hated Richard Cole more than anyone in this world. Because ten years ago, Richard's father and Richard himself had tricked Damien's mother into signing a fake contract that made her lose everything. She died of heart attack three months later. Everyone knew that story. He was looking at me. His grey eyes, like a storm about to happen. I didn't know why I walked to his table. Maybe because I had four dollars. Maybe because when you have nothing left, you are not afraid anymore. "Mr. Carter," I said, my voice shaking from cold and from hunger because I hadn't eaten since yesterday. "Do you remember me? I am Amelia Cole. Thomas Cole's daughter. We met at the Chamber of Commerce dinner last year." He looked up slowly. He took his time. "I know who you are," he said. His voice was low and calm and cold. "You are the girl who just lost everything in Courtroom 3. I was there." "You were there?" "I come to all of Richard Cole's hearings. I like to watch him win small battles before he loses the war." I swallowed all my pride. Pride doesn't pay rent. Pride doesn't buy garri. "I need a job," I whispered. "Any job. I can clean your offices, I can be your secretary, I can wash plates. I just need a place to sleep tonight." He stared at me for a long time. Then he said, "I don't hire charity cases." My face burned. Tears came to my eyes but I held them. "Then don't hire me for charity," I said, louder this time. "Hire me for revenge. You want Richard destroyed. I want him destroyed. I grew up in that house. I know where he hides his real account books. I know his password is Vanessa's birthday. I know he keeps a second phone with all his dirty deals with the government. Help me and I will help you take back Cole Enterprises." That made him pause. He put down his coffee cup. "Sit," he said. I sat opposite him, my wet dress making the chair wet. "What do you want in return?" he asked. "A place to sleep tonight. And five percent of whatever you take from him when you finish him." He laughed. For the first time. It was not a kind laugh. It was a surprised laugh. "You have four dollars in your bag, your shoes have a hole in the sole, and you are negotiating with me, Damien Carter?" "Four dollars and ten cents," I whispered, correcting him. He stared at me, then he reached into his inner pocket and took out a small black velvet box. He opened it. Inside was a ring. A huge black diamond in the middle, surrounded by small white diamonds. I knew that ring. Every newspaper in Nigeria had posted it. It was his mother's ring. The ring she left for his future wife before she died. "My mother left this for my future wife," he said. "I will give you a different deal, Amelia Cole. Marry me. For six months. A contract marriage. Be my wife on paper, help me destroy Richard and get Cole Enterprises back, and act as my wife in public. In return, I will give you back everything you lost your house, your company shares plus ten million dollars when the six months end. And I will make Richard Cole kneel in front of this city and apologize to you." The diner went silent. The two other customers were staring at us. Marry him? Damien Carter? The most feared billionaire in the city? "Why me?" I asked, my heart beating so fast I thought I would die. "You can marry any model, any rich girl" "Because you have nothing left to lose, so you will not betray me," he said simply. "And because you didn't ask me for money when you sat down. You asked me for revenge. I like people who are angry more than people who are sad. Angry people survive." He slid the velvet box across the table. It stopped right in front of my shaking, wet hand. Outside, the rain was falling hard on Aba Road. Inside, the old wall clock was ticking. My father always told me before he died, "Amelia, when you hit rock bottom, you have two choices. You can stay there and cry, or you can pick up the rock and break someone's window." I picked up the ring. It was heavy. It was cold. It was the beginning of something dangerous. "What do I have to do, Mr. Carter?" I asked. He smiled. This time, it was a dangerous, beautiful smile. "Rule one, Mrs. Carter," he said. "Don't fall in love with me."