Just for you

Chapter Six

Joanna’pov

I threw on a crisp jacket, snatched my bag from the desk, and practically flew down the stairs, double-stepping to make sure I didn't miss my brother before he left for work.

Nathan was sitting at the dining table, staring blankly into a mug of untouched coffee. The atmosphere in the house was thick, suffocating, and heavy with the toxic fallout of yesterday’s show.

As soon as my feet hit the last step, he looked up. His mood was visibly sour, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion and frustration. Melody stood a few feet away near the counter, completely quiet, watching him with a tense, uncertain posture.

I swallowed my pride, softening my stance as I stepped into the room.

"Good morning," I said quietly, looking between the two of them. I took a slow breath before continuing. "I... I want to apologize for yesterday. For how I acted, for screaming, and for bringing all of that chaos into your room. I'm sorry, Melody. I'm sorry, Nathan."

Melody immediately turned her head toward Nathan, her eyes searching his face, silently waiting to see how he would handle it.

Nathan sat frozen for a long moment, his jaw tight. Finally, he let out a heavy, weary sigh and set his mug down.

"Apology accepted," he murmured, his voice rough. He looked up at me, the harsh, defensive glare from yesterday completely gone, replaced by a quiet, haunting exhaustion. "I just... I need you to understand, Joanna. Everything I did, everything I'm doing now... I only ever meant the best for you."

I paused, searching his face. For the first time in seven years, I didn't see the dictator or the overprotective gatekeeper standing in my way. I saw genuine sincerity in his eyes. He genuinely believed he had saved me back then.

I held his gaze, taking a deliberate step forward.

"Actually, Nathan," I said, my tone shifting to something firm and direct. "If you really mean that—if you truly just want the best for me—then help me. I need the half-payment deposit for the High Street shop."

Nathan froze, his mug stopping halfway to his mouth. "What?" he asked, a look of utter shock washing over his face.

He stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. He knew the specific property I had been eyeing—the exact one Favour's family owned, the one he thought he had completely blocked off.

"The agent called me this morning," I continued, keeping my tone smooth, controlled, and utterly unbothered. "The property owners cleared it. The space is officially mine if I secure it today."

Nathan’s jaw tightened as he struggled to process the news. The confusion and panic flickered rapidly across his eyes, but he forced himself to stay composed, not wanting to trigger another explosion in front of Melody.

"Joanna..." he started, his voice strained as he took a slow breath. "Look, if it's cleared, fine. I'll send you the money later today once I get to the office—"

"No," I interrupted gently, taking another step into the dining room. "I need it right now, Nathan. Transfer it to my account now."

He blinked at my insistence. "What's the rush?"

"I'm on my way to collect the keys from the agency," I said, holding his gaze with a steady, unyielding look. "The moment the deposit goes through, I get the keys and I'm starting renovations today. If you're really supporting me, do it now."

Nathan looked at me for three agonizing seconds, searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he let out a quiet sigh, pulled out his phone, and began tapping the screen. Moments later, my phone vibrated with the deposit confirmation.

Nathan looked back up at me, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "It's sent."

"Thank you," I said softly, grabbing my bag tighter.

Nathan might have meant well, but sincerity couldn't rewrite history. Armed with his money and the agent's approval, I turned on my heel and headed out the front door, ready to find out if it was Nathan's fear or Favour's guilty conscience that had truly handed me those keys.

Jonathan’s pov

I practically sprinted out the front door, slamming it behind me as I pulled my keys from my pocket and marched toward my car. The moment I dropped into the driver's seat, I slammed the steering wheel with the palm of my hand, breathing heavily as the engine roared to life.

My mind was spinning out of control. How on earth did she get that shop?

I pulled out my phone, scrolled straight to Favour’s contact, and hit dial. He answered on the third ring.

"Favour," I snapped, not even waiting for him to say hello. My voice was shaking with a dangerous mix of fury and betrayal. "What the hell are you playing at? Are you trying to ruin my sister? Is that what this is?"

"Nathan, what are you—"

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt, man!" I cut him off, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned bone-white. "I thought we were brothers! But handing her the keys to your family's property after everything that happened? You're setting my house on fire, Favour. I don't think we're friends anymore. I really don't."

There was a sharp, heavy pause on the line before Favour slashed right back, his voice dropping into a harsh, frustrated glare through the receiver.

"Don't you dare put this on me, Nathan!" Favour barked back, his own panic bleeding through the speaker. "Why is Joanna even back in the first place? Answer me that! I thought she was never coming back to the UK after all that drama seven years ago! She was supposed to stay far away from us!"

"You could have said no to the agency!" I yelled into the phone.

"And do you know how Maya feels right now?!" Favour shouted back, the raw strain in his voice palpable. "Maya is already picking up on things! She’s asking questions, Nathan! She’s looking at me like I’m keeping secrets, and if I blocked your sister from renting a commercial unit on High Street for no reason, it would have made her suspect everything! I had to let it go through just to protect my marriage!"

"Maybe Joanna coming back was a terrible idea," I muttered to myself, staring blankly through the windshield as the words hung heavy in the air.

Without waiting for Favour to respond, I quietly ended the call, cutting off the panic on his end before he could say another word. My hand was shaking as I rested my forehead against the steering wheel. Seven years of keeping the peace, seven years of buried secrets, and it was all unravelling in less than forty-eight hours.

I sat back, swiped through my phone screen, and paused over Mum's contact name. My thumb hovered above the call button. She had no idea what was happening over here. She had no idea Joanna was walking back into the exact same fire that nearly destroyed her years ago. If anyone could talk sense into my sister—or at least explain what was driving her right now—it was Mum.

I tapped her number, pulling the phone to my ear as it rang, while simultaneously typing out a quick, blunt text to Favour:

We need to talk. Meet me after work over a drink. No wives,no excuses.

The phone barely finished its first ring before my mother picked up.

"Nathan, my son," her voice echoed warm and clear through the speaker, momentarily cutting through the cold fog of my panic. "How are you? Is everything fine?"

"Good morning, Mum," I breathed out, forcing my voice to sound as steady as possible, though the tension in my chest threatened to spill over. "We are fine. Melody is fine."

"Ah, thank God," she said softly. "And your sister? Has she settled in well?"

I closed my eyes, gripping the steering wheel tight as I leaned back against the headrest. I didn't want to play mind games with my own mother, so I dropped the pleasantries immediately.

"Mum... what happened back in Nigeria?" I asked, my voice dropping into a desperate, serious whisper. "She's setting fire to our worlds, Mum! Just a few days after landing, she's already tearing everything apart, demanding shops, blowing up my house, and turning everything upside down! What happened back in Nigeria? Why did you let her come back here? There has to be a reason she suddenly packed up and left!"

I waited for her to defend herself, or to ask if Melody and I were alright. Instead, the line went dead silent for a suffocating second.

When my mother finally spoke, her voice wasn't panicked. It was heavy, cautious, and laced with a terrifying realization.

"Nathan," she asked softly, the words cutting through the air like ice. "Has she met Favour?"

My breath hitched. The phone nearly slipped from my sweaty palm, my fingers freezing against the plastic casing.

"What?" I choked out, a cold wave of dread washing over me from head to toe. "What does Favour have to do with this? Why are you mentioning him right now? Is Favour the reason she came back? Did something happen between them back in Nigeria before she got on that plane?"

"Speak to Favour, Nathan," Mum said softly, her voice heavy with a deep, weary weight. "Or speak to your sister. They are the ones who can tell you the truth of what happened."

"Mum, what does that even mean—"

"I have said all I am going to say on this phone," she cut in gently, but firmly. "Talk to them, Nathan."

The line went dead before I could protest.

I sat back in the driver's seat, the silence in the car deafening. My chest heaved as I stared blankly at my phone screen. Her refusal to answer only confirmed the ugly feeling twisting in my gut. Something had happened—something far deeper than a buried memory from seven years ago.

My mind instantly snapped to the text I had just sent Favour. I didn't just want a drink with him anymore. I needed answers, and he was going to tell me every single detail the moment we sat across from each other tonight.

Joanna’s pov

I pulled up to the High Street unit, my heart thudding a heavy, nervous rhythm against my ribs as I stepped out onto the pavement. The morning air was crisp, but my hands felt clammy inside my jacket pockets.

Standing right outside the shop entrance were two women.

One was a middle-aged white woman with impeccably styled dark hair and a chic, tailored coat—she had the elegant, sharp posture of an Italian businesswoman, likely the estate agent I had spoken to on the phone. But it was the woman standing beside her that made my feet freeze to the pavement.

Maya

Before I could even process her presence, Maya’s face lit up with a bright, genuine smile. She stepped forward, opening her arms wide, and pulled me into a warm, enthusiastic hug.

"Joanna!" she exclaimed, pulling back with a bright, welcoming glow in her eyes. "Congratulations! I was so excited when the paperwork came through this morning. We just had to hand over the keys in person!"

I stood there, stiffening slightly in her embrace before forcing a faint, polite smile onto my face. My mind was reeling, spinning into overdrive as I looked from Maya’s beaming face to the key ring glittering in her hand.

Why is she here?

A dark wave of suspicion washed over me. Did Maya find out about the shop and begged her husband to let me have it,completely oblivious to who I really was to him? Or … did Favour deliberately sent his wife to hand me this keys ? Was this his twisted way of flaunting his perfect marriage in my face by using Maya to make me jealous, irritated,and to put me right back in my place ?

"Is the space up to your satisfaction, Joanna?" Maya asked, sweeping her hand toward the wide glass front of the unit with a bright, encouraging look. "I know how stressful finding the right commercial spot can be, so I really hope this feels like a good fit for you."

"It's more than enough," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the shop's interior. "Thank you. Regarding the payment—I'll be paying half of the lease upfront today as a deposit."

"Oh, wonderful," Maya said, nodding warmly. "We can head straight down to the bank near the high street to finalize the transfer and process the agreement papers. Since the property belongs to my husband's family, the account details are tied directly to the corporate bank account under his management."

I paused, turning my full attention to her. "Can't you just give me his direct account number? I can make the transfer right now from my phone, directly to him."

The sudden tightness in my request hung suspended in the air.

Maya’s warm smile faltered slightly, her brows pulling together as a faint flicker of caution crossed her face. "His direct account number?" she repeated softly, her voice taking on a slightly guarded edge. "No, Joanna, everything for the properties goes through the official bank account. Besides, it's a bit sudden to ask for his personal business details like that. We always handle formal deposits directly at the branch."

She held my gaze for a beat too long, her intuition quietly flaring. Maya couldn't quite put her finger on it, but standing there on the pavement, looking at the sharp intensity in my eyes, a subtle alarm went off in her head. It didn't feel like a simple business request anymore. It felt like I was desperately looking for a reason to get directly in touch with her husband