THE CEO'S CONTRACT BRIDE

THE WEDDING NIGHT + THE FIRST SECRET

CHAPTER: 2 - THE WEDDING NIGHT + THE FIRST SECRET

The Rolls Royce smelled like leather, money, and panic.

Damien hadn’t spoken in 12 minutes. Not since he showed me the text.

CONGRATS ON THE WEDDING. NOW THE REAL GAME BEGINS.

PS: CHECK WHO REALLY KILLED YOUR FATHER.

My father. Chief Emeka Okafor. Car accident. Third Mainland Bridge. 6 months ago. "Brake failure." Closed case.

"Say something," I whispered.

Damien stared out the window. Lagos lights blurred. "There’s nothing to say until we know who sent it."

"That’s a lie. You know something."

His jaw ticked. "I know a lot of things, Anna. That doesn’t mean I know who wants us dead."

Us.

He said us.

The car pulled into an underground garage. Kingsley Towers. Penthouse level. Private elevator.

Two bodyguards opened our doors. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley."

We weren’t. Not really. 12 months. ₦300M. Separate bedrooms. Clause 11.

The elevator shot up 90 floors in silence.

The penthouse hit me like a punch. Floor to ceiling glass. Lagos spread out like diamonds. Cold marble. Art that cost more than my factory.

And emptiness.

"Your room is that way." Damien pointed down a hallway. "Mine is opposite. Clause 7."

Separate bedrooms. Good. Safe.

So why did my chest hurt?

"Did you do it?" The question came out before I could stop it.

Damien stopped mid-step. "Did I do what?"

"Kill my father."

He turned slowly. For the first time, the Ice King looked human. Tired. Angry.

"I was in London at a board meeting when your father’s car went off that bridge. I have 40 witnesses, CCTV, and a timestamp."

A beat. "But I knew the driver of the other car."

My blood froze. "Who?"

"Someone who sent that text tonight." He walked to the bar, poured two glasses of water. Handed me one. His fingers brushed mine. Warm.

"We need to figure this out, Anna. Together."

Together. Dangerous word.

He walked to a wall panel. Pressed his thumb. A section slid open. Safe.

Inside: stacks of cash. A gun. Passports.

And a red folder.

OKAFOR.

He pulled it out but didn’t open it.

"This was delivered to my office 3 days before I called you."

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Because I didn’t know if you were the one who sent it."

The accusation hung in the air.

"You think I’m behind this?" My voice broke.

"I think we’re both pawns, Anna." He finally met my eyes. Black, but not cold now. "Marry me. Take the money. Help me find out who’s playing us. 12 months. Then we both walk away."

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

Photo: Me. Age 16. At my father’s factory, smiling.

Caption: SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HER FATHER DID EITHER.

The glass slipped from my hand. Shattered.

Damien caught me before I hit the ground. His arms were solid. He smelled like cedar and trouble.

"Hey. Breathe." He set me on the couch. "Anna. Look at me."

I couldn’t. Tears were burning.

"My father was a good man."

"I know." His voice was soft. Too soft. "Then let’s prove it."

He opened the red folder.

Bank statements. Emails.

And a contract.

AGREEMENT BETWEEN CHIEF EMeka OKAFOR AND VICTORIA KINGSLEY

DATE: 8 MONTHS AGO

AMOUNT: ₦500,000,000

PURPOSE: SILENCE REGARDING KINGSLEY PORT DEAL

Victoria. Damien’s mother.

"What did my father do?" I whispered.

Damien closed the folder. "I don’t know. But we’re finding out tomorrow."

He stood. "Now. We have to fake a wedding night."

He walked to the guest room. Stopped.

"Anna. For the record... I didn’t kill him."

The door closed.

I sat alone in a ₦3 billion penthouse. Married to a stranger.

Another text. Same number:

CHECK THE SAFE. PAGE 13.

I opened the folder. Flipped.

Page 13. A photo.

My father. 6 months ago. Laughing.

Standing next to him: Damien.

And behind them, in the shadows: Victoria.

Holding something.

I zoomed in with shaking hands.

A gun.

[END OF CHAPTER 2]

CLIFFHANGER: Did Victoria kill Chief Okafor? And why was Damien covering for her?