THE CEO'S SECRET TRIPLETS

Amara Okafor smoothed down the cheap black blazer for the third time and stared at the glass doors of Adebayo Group Tower. Seventy floors. Billions in assets. And one ruthless CEO who fired his last three assistants. This was her last chance. "Name?" The security guard didn't look up from his tablet. "Amara Okafor. I have an interview with Mr. Adebayo at 9 AM." The guard scanned her ID. "Floor 68. Don't be late. He hates late." Amara's heart hammered as the elevator shot up. The doors opened to a floor made of white marble and silence. A receptionist with perfect nails pointed to a door. "He's waiting." Damian Adebayo didn't look up when she entered. He was on the phone, standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows with the Nairobi skyline behind him. Black suit. Broad shoulders. The kind of man who bought buildings for fun. "Three million. Take it or I'll buy your company and fire you," he said coldly, then hung up. He turned. Dark eyes. Sharp jaw. No smile. "You must be the new assistant." "Yes, sir. Amara Okafor." "Rules. One: You work when I work. Two: You don't ask questions. Three: You don't get attached." He walked around his desk. "Can you handle that?" Amara lifted her chin. "I need this job, Mr. Adebayo. My mother is sick. I just need three months." Something flickered in his eyes. Pity? Annoyance? "Three months," he repeated. "Fine. Your first task. Cancel my 2 PM meeting with Kemi Okoye. Tell her I'm busy." "Yes, sir." "And Amara?" "Yes?" "Don't wear perfume tomorrow. I’m allergic." He turned back to the window. Dismissed. As Amara walked out, her phone buzzed. Hospital bill: KSh 85,000 due in 7 days. Three months. She could do three months. She had no idea that in three months, she would also be carrying his triplets.