THE CONTRACT
The clock on the wall of Martins Tower, light town2, showed 8:45 PM. Outside, Abuja city was alive. Cars honked on Ademola Adetokunbo Crescent, lights from Transcorp Hilton blinked in the distance, and the rain had just stopped, leaving the city streets shining.
On the 30th floor, the entire building was empty. Everyone had gone home to their families in gas top area, Lugbe, Kubwa. Everyone except Sophia Bello.
Sophia stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking down at the city she loved and hated at the same time. Abuja city gave dreams, but it also crushed them.
She was 24 years old. Graduate of University of Abuja. First class in Business Administration. But for the last 6 months, she had been working as a contract staff, a secretary intern at Martins Group, earning only 70,000 naira. Her office was not even an office - it was a small cubicle near the elevator.
She lived in a small mini-flat in Jahi Abuja. Not Maitama, not Asokoro. Jahi. Where water didn't always come, where the landlord shouted if rent was 2 days late. Her mother, Grace Bello, was in Garki Hospital, Area 8, battling a kidney problem. The bill was now N6.2 million. Her younger brother, Daniel, was supposed to resume at Baze University but had no school fees.
Sophia had applied for a loan, gone to three churches to beg, even tried to sell her small Toyota Corolla 2005 model. Nothing.
"Sophia Bello, come to my office. Now."
The voice from the intercom made her jump. It was Frank Martins.
Frank Martins. The name made every girl in Abuja whisper. 30 years old, 6'3 tall, billionaire heir. His father, Chief Martins, built Martins Group from nothing - oil in Port Harcourt, real estate in Eko Atlantic Lagos, malls in Abuja. Frank was the only son. He schooled in London, worked in Dubai, then came back to take over the Abuja headquarters. He was known for three things in the city: He was brutally handsome, brutally rich, and brutally cold. He never dated any girl for more than one month. He never smiled in magazines. The city girls called him "The Ice King of Abuja."
Sophia entered his office. It was bigger than her whole apartment in Jahi. Everything was black and gold. A huge desk made of Italian marble, a private bar, a private elevator, and a view of the whole Central Business District.
Frank was standing by the window, phone in hand, wearing a black suit that probably cost more than Sophia's one-year salary. His hair was perfectly cut, his beard trimmed, his perfume filled the office - expensive and powerful.
"Mr. Martins, you called me?"
He turned. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. Cheap white shirt, black skirt that she had ironed five times, old black bag from Shoprite.
"Sit."
She sat.
"I need a wife," he said straight, no introduction.
Sophia thought she didn't hear well. "Sorry, sir?"
"My grandmother, Lady Martins, is 86 years old. She is in Cedarcrest Hospital, Asokoro. She raised me. Her last wish before she dies is to see me married. She keeps crying every day. My father and my board of directors also want me married this month, otherwise they will not give me full control of the company. They think I am not responsible because I am single and I party in Lagos clubs."
He walked to his desk and brought out a file. He threw it at her.
Sophia opened it. It was a contract. Title: MARRIAGE CONTRACT - 12 MONTHS.
Her hands started shaking.
"I have interviewed 20 girls from rich families in Abuja - daughters of Ministers, Senators, Governors. From Maitama, from Asokoro, from Banana Island Lagos. They all want my money, they all want to be Mrs. Martins forever. They all want to control me. I don't want that."
"Then why me? I am nobody," Sophia whispered.
"Exactly. You are nobody. You are poor, you are desperate, you are honest. I watched you for two months. Last month, you returned N500,000 that a client mistakenly sent to you. You could have taken it. You didn't. Two weeks ago, you fought with HR because they refused to pay the cleaners their salary. You have character. And most importantly, you will not fall in love with me, and you will leave after one year."
He brought out a cheque.
"My offer: You will be my contract wife for 12 months. You will move from Jahi to my private estate in Maitama - 7 bedrooms, swimming pool, drivers, maids. You will follow me to events - Transcorp Hilton dinners, weddings in Lagos, business meetings in Abuja. You will pretend to be in love with me in front of my grandmother and in front of the media. h***:://Pulse.ng, BellaNaija, i********: bloggers - they will carry our pictures. In private, we live separate lives. Separate rooms. No touching except in public for photos. After 12 months, we divorce quietly. You will get N70 million naira, plus I will pay your mother's hospital bill of N6.2 million today, plus I will sponsor your brother from Baze University to Masters level. And I will give you a 2-bedroom flat in Wuye, Abuja, fully furnished."
Sophia couldn't breathe. N70 million? A flat in Wuye? Her mother saved?
"This is too much... why would you..."
"Because I can. I am Frank Martins. Money is not my problem. A wife who will not stress me is my problem. Do you accept?"
Sophia looked out at Abuja city lights again. She thought of her mother in Garki Hospital, oxygen on her nose. She thought of her landlord in Jahi knocking tomorrow for rent. She thought of her brother David crying that he doesn't want to be a dropout.
She picked up the golden pen.
"What are the rules, sir?"
"Rule one: In public - in Shoprite, in Jabi Lake Mall, in church, on i********: - you are obsessed with me. You hold my hand, you call me baby, you smile.
Rule two: In private - in the Maitama house - you are my flatmate. Don't enter my room. Don't ask about my girlfriends.
Rule three: No other man for 12 months. If BellaNaija catches you with another man in Abuja city, the contract is cancelled and you get nothing.
Rule four: Don't get pregnant. I will not have a child from a contract.
Rule five: Don't fall in love with me. Because I will never love you."
His voice was ice.
Sophia felt a small pain in her chest at the last sentence. Don't fall in love with me. As if she would. She hated rich arrogant men like him. Men who think Abuja city belongs to them.
She signed. SOPHIA BELLO. The ink bled slightly because her hand was sweating.
Frank signed under. FRANK MARTINS.
He pressed his intercom: "Aisha, call Garki Hospital now. Pay N6.2 million for Grace Bello, full payment. Tell the doctor to start kidney treatment tonight. And tell my driver, tomorrow 6:30 AM, go to Jahi, pack Ms. Bello's things to Maitama Estate."
He looked at Sophia.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Martins. From tomorrow, you are no longer a poor secretary in Wuse 2. You are the wife of the most hated and loved billionaire in Abuja city. Your life in the city will change forever."
Sophia stood up, legs shaking. She had just sold 12 months of her life for N70 million.
As she left the 30th floor and entered the elevator, the elevator mirror showed her - a scared girl about to enter a world of luxury, pain, and a love she never expected.
Downstairs, the city was still buzzing. Bolt cars passing, girls going to clubs in light town2, boys smoking shisha, she was different.
