Chapter two
567 Words
Trojan's POV
Trojan could not imagine having to board an urgent flight back to Nigeria just because his parents had summoned him home for a "family meeting."
He had been in Los Angeles for the weekend and had everything perfectly planned — the venue, the guest list, the vibe. It was supposed to be the party of the month. Now he had to cancel everything.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, tossing his passport into his designer luggage.
At twenty five, with a Masters in Business Administration from one of America's finest universities, Trojan Semilore had everything a man could want. His parents, Mr and Mrs Semilore, were one of Lagos' most powerful families — owners of over ten companies spanning real estate, banking and hospitality.
He was used to getting whatever he wanted. Always had been.
Settling down was the last thing on his mind.
Whatever this "urgent meeting" was about, he was going to handle it quickly and fly straight back to LA.
His driver had been waiting at the airport to pick him up.
Had it been left to Trojan, he would have preferred to drive himself — at least then he could have stopped somewhere before heading home. But that option had been taken from him too.
"Good afternoon sir," the driver greeted as Trojan slid into the backseat.
The black Mercedes Benz. His favourite. He sank into the leather seat and exhaled slowly.
"What's up," he replied casually.
As the car navigated through the familiar streets and turns toward Lekki, Trojan found himself looking out the window. Lagos hadn't changed. Loud, chaotic and beautiful — the kind of city that never slept and could party until dawn. He had missed it slightly, not that he would ever admit that.
He checked his watch. Past 5pm already.
He hadn't received a single call from his mother, which was unusual. She was normally the one blowing up his phone.
"Guess they're already preparing their speech," he muttered to himself with a small chuckle.
The car pulled up in front of the villa and Trojan stepped out, adjusting his clothes.
"It can't be that bad," he told himself.
His parents were already seated in the living room side by side, as if they had been waiting for hours. Knowing them, they probably had.
"Finally," his mother said, looking up. "We thought you forgot about the meeting."
"Hello," Trojan greeted casually.
His father's eyes narrowed. "You don't know how to greet in your language anymore? Because you went to LA?"
"Sorry pops," he said quickly.
"Good. Now — to avoid long talk," his father continued, his voice firm, "your mother and I have decided it is time you settled down. You are not a baby anymore. If you refuse, you will lose everything — the allowance, the cars, this house. You will have to find somewhere else to live. We have pampered you enough."
Trojan laughed. He actually laughed — looking between his parents waiting for one of them to c***k a smile.
Nobody smiled.
"You're serious," he said slowly. It wasn't even a question anymore.
"You have three months," his mother said simply, standing up. "A fiancée or at least a serious girlfriend before your birthday. That is all we ask." His father stood too and they both walked away leaving Trojan alone in the silence.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
This was a big problem.
- Writer
