My Accidental Baby With The CEO

Episode 10– Dinner With The Devil

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* - Dinner With The Devil* ∼

That night Caleb insisted.

"Dinner. With me. We need to talk strategy."

I was in my small kitchen in Surulere, washing plates. The water was lukewarm and my hands were wrinkled. Jasmine was in her room doing homework, singing under her breath.

"I'm not your girlfriend," I said into the phone. My voice was tired. Tired of him. Tired of this.

"No. You’re my problem," he said. I could hear him pacing. His footsteps echoed. "And my solution. 8pm. I’ll pick you up."

"Caleb—"

"Isabella. The blackmail isn’t going away. Jessica is talking. Victor is talking. If we don’t get ahead of this, tomorrow GistLover will post that video. Your daughter’s school will see it. Your father’s nurses will see it."

I closed my eyes. The water was still running.

"Fine. 8pm."

He hung up.

I didn’t sleep that afternoon. I couldn’t.

I just sat and stared at the wall with peeling paint.

What strategy? What did he want to say in front of people?

And why did my stomach twist at the thought of seeing him again?

7 years ago he walked away. Now he wanted dinner?

At 7:50pm, a black Range Rover pulled up outside. Caleb was driving himself.

He was in a black shirt and black trousers. No tie. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. There were shadows under his eyes.

"You came," he said when I opened the gate. His voice was rough.

"I had no choice."

The ride to Victoria Island was silent. Lagos traffic was mad. Horns, danfos, okadas. He kept both hands on the wheel, jaw clenched.

He kept glancing at me.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"Good. That means you’re paying attention."

I looked out the window. My reflection looked back. Pale. Scared.

I kept thinking of Jasmine. What if someone recognized me tomorrow? What if they went to her school?

We pulled up to an expensive restaurant. Glass doors. Valet. People in gowns and suits. Soft music playing.

My heart sank.

And there she was.

Jessica.

With Victor.

At our table.

"Surprise!" Jessica stood the second she saw me, arms open like we were sisters. Fake smile, perfect makeup. Red lipstick. "Caleb invited us! Family dinner."

I wanted to die right there.

My step sister. And my evil ex. Together. At my dinner.

Caleb pulled out my chair. His jaw was tight.

"Sit."

Victor smirked from across the table. Same smirk from 7 years ago. The one that used to make me feel small. The one that said _you’re nothing_.

"Isabella. Long time." He dragged the words. "Heard you’re working for Mr Moore now."

"Secretary," I said through my teeth. I sat down. My legs were shaking.

"And other things?" Jessica laughed, covering her mouth. "Because the blogs are saying—"

Caleb’s hand went under the table. On my knee. Squeezing. Hard.

"Watch your mouth, Jessica." His voice was low. Dangerous.

The waiter came with menus. No one opened them.

Dinner was hell.

Jessica talked about dad. About how "sick" he was. About how "poor Isabella is struggling since daddy got sick." She said it loud enough for the next table to hear.

"She’s been working 3 jobs, Caleb. You should help her. You’re so rich now. Or is that why you hired her? Charity?"

Victor kept looking at my chest. Then at my hands. Then back at my face. Like he was checking if I was still the same girl he dumped.

"You look different," he said. "Tired. Motherhood will do that to you, huh? How old is she now? 6?"

My hands were shaking under the table.

Caleb noticed. His hand moved from my knee to my hand. He laced our fingers together right there on the white tablecloth. His palm was warm.

Jessica’s eyes narrowed.

"Oh wow. Touchy."

"She’s with me," Caleb said simply. "So yes."

Jessica laughed too loud. "With you? Caleb, please. She was with Victor first. Remember? High school sweethearts. We all dated in school."

The word hit me like a slap.

Victor leaned back in his chair. "Yeah. We had something. Before she ran off. Before she got pregnant and disappeared."

I couldn’t breathe.

Run off.

Like I was the one who left him for another man.

Like I was the one who cheated.

Like Jasmine was a mistake I made alone.

Caleb’s grip tightened on my hand.

"That was 7 years ago," he said. "And you treated her like trash. Don’t start."

Victor shrugged. "I’m just saying. She has a pattern. Jumps from man to man. Now she’s with the CEO."

That was it.

I stood up. My chair scraped.

"I’m going to the bathroom."

Inside, I locked the door and pressed my forehead against the cold mirror.

Breathe.

Don’t cry here.

Don’t give them that.

They want to see you break.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number: _We’re watching you, Isabella. Smile for the camera._

I almost dropped the phone.

They were here. In the restaurant.

Taking pictures.

I splashed water on my face and walked back out. My makeup was ruined. I didn’t care.

Jessica was holding up her phone.

"Oh Caleb, you should see Isabella dance. She’s amazing. I have videos. From The Velvet. Remember? She was so good that night."

The whole restaurant went quiet.

She hit play.

On the screen: me. 19. Red dress. Dancing on a table. Laughing. Drunk.

My face. Clear as day.

People were staring.

Caleb stood so fast his chair fell backwards with a loud crash.

"Give me the phone."

"Or what? You’ll hit me too?" Jessica stood, holding it above her head. "The internet deserves to see what kind of woman you’re protecting—"

He snatched it.

His thumb moved fast. Delete. Delete. Delete.

Then he dropped the phone on the floor and crushed it under his shoe. Glass cracked.

"Touch her again and I’ll destroy you," he told Victor quietly. So quietly only we could hear. "Both of you. I’ll make sure you never work in this city again."

Victor paled. Jessica’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

Caleb grabbed my hand.

"We’re leaving."

Outside, in the car, I exploded.

"Why did you invite them??" I was yelling. "Why would you do that to me! You knew they’d be there!"

"I didn’t," he said, slamming the steering wheel. "Jessica invited herself. She saw the reservation under my name and showed up. She’s trying to expose you. To break us."

He was breathing hard. Angry.

"The blackmail. The photos. Jasmine." He said her name and immediately looked away. Out the window. "It’s all connected to them. To Victor. To her father."

He pulled over on an empty stretch of road. No cars. Just streetlights.

He turned to me.

Streetlights moved across his face.

"Isabella, I’m tired of pretending."

My heart was pounding.

"Tired of what?"

"Tired of lying. Tired of Mike following you. Tired of watching you from my office window. Tired of pretending I don’t care."

He reached out and tucked hair behind my ear. His hand was shaking.

"The blackmail. The photos. That little girl."

There it was.

He didn’t say her name this time.

"Is she... is there any chance she’s mine?"

My heart stopped.

The car was silent. Only our breathing. The sound of cars passing far away.

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"Answer me," he said. Voice breaking. "Please. Just tell me the truth. I deserve that much."

Tears burned my eyes.

"Even if she was... what then?" I whispered. "You’ll throw money at us like you did at the bar? Like Victor did? You’ll investigate me and then disappear again? Like you did 7 years ago?"

He grabbed my face with both hands. His thumbs wiped my tears.

"No. I won’t disappear. Not this time. Let me help you. Let me protect both of you. Please."

I stared at him. This man who owned half of Lagos. This man who I hated and wanted all at once.

"You don’t even know."

"I suspect," he said. "The eyes. The timing. The way she looks at me. God, Isabella. I need to know."

He leaned in.

His forehead touched mine.

"I’m not asking you to trust me yet. I’m asking you to let me prove I’m different now. Let me in."

My phone buzzed.

Jasmine’s school teacher: _Mummy, Jasmine left her lunchbox. Should I keep it for tomorrow?_

I pulled back.

"I need to go home."

He nodded. Started the car.

We didn’t talk the rest of the ride. The silence was heavy.

At my gate, he didn’t get out. He just sat there with the engine running.

"Will you think about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"About letting me in. About letting me help. About the truth."

I didn’t answer. I just got out and walked inside. My legs felt like jelly.

Jasmine was asleep on the couch, homework half-done. Crayons scattered.

I picked her up and carried her to bed. She smelled like soap and crayons and childhood.

Her eyes.

My phone lit up.

Caleb: _I meant it. I want to help. Let me._

Then another text.

Unknown: _24 hours left. ₦50M. Or the video goes to Greenfield Academy._

I sat on the floor next to Jasmine’s bed and cried. Silent tears.

_Did I just hear him right... and what will I say to the man who might be her father?_

_If I tell him, will he stay? If I don’t, will Jessica destroy us first?_

_TO BE CONTINUED..._

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