LINES WE NEVER DREW
387 Words
Ciara hadn’t expected to be sitting at a mahogany dining table that could easily seat twenty, staring down the entire Adams family dynasty.
It was supposed to be just dinner. A casual introduction to “keep up appearances.” But with the way Jubril’s father, Chief Olufemi Adams, sat at the head of the table like a king assessing a challenger, Ciara felt like she’d been summoned to prove her worth.
“So, Ciara,” his father began, his deep voice cutting through the polite chatter, “what exactly do you do?”
Ciara smiled politely. “I’m a senior account manager at a bank. I handle high-value portfolios and—”
“A banker,” the older man interrupted, leaning back. “Steady, but… safe. I expected someone with more ambition to be beside my son.”
Her smile didn’t falter, but her pulse kicked. She’d dealt with her share of condescending clients, but this was personal.
Before she could respond, Jubril set down his wine glass with a sharp clink.
“Dad,” he said, voice low but cutting, “Ciara is one of the most intelligent people I know. She’s respected in her field, and she doesn’t need your approval to justify her ambition.”
The table went silent.
Ciara blinked, surprised by the steel in his tone—and the way his hand found hers beneath the table, his grip firm and grounding.
His mother, elegant in silk and pearls, cleared her throat. “Well, that’s certainly… admirable,” she said with a tight smile, trying to diffuse the tension.
The rest of the dinner passed in polite conversation, but Ciara couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her head—how quickly he’d stepped in, no hesitation, no calculation. That wasn’t part of the plan.
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Later, in the car, she finally said, “You didn’t have to defend me like that.”
Jubril didn’t look at her. “Yes, I did.”
“It’s not part of the deal,” she pressed.
His gaze slid to hers then, sharp and unreadable. “Maybe the deal’s evolving.”
Something unspoken crackled between them, thick enough to make her forget they were supposed to be pretending.
Her rules—their rules—suddenly felt like glass walls with cracks spreading too fast to repair.
- Writer
