The engagement
1934 Words
THIAGO’S MANSION
Anabelle woke in the same bed she had slept in the previous night. Reaching for her phone, she found five missed calls from Bose.
She immediately called back.
“Hey, good morning,” Anabelle said, exhaustion heavy in her voice.
“Come on, Ana! I was worried. You didn’t come home, you weren’t answering your phone—I thought you had done something to yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I went to my dad’s place, and... a lot happened. Somehow, I ended up at Thiago’s house.”
“A lot happened? What happened? What’s going on?”
“Come over this evening. I’ll tell you everything then. Right now, I’m not ready to talk.”
“Okay. Send me the location.”
“Hmm.”
Anabelle ended the call and turned.
Thiago was descending the stairs.
The sight of him made her blood boil. If she had walked away the day he approached her, perhaps none of this would have happened. No Sharon. No scandal. No kidnapping.
Thiago met her gaze with the same unreadable expression.
“I want to go home.”
“No.”
Anabelle walked towards him. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m informing you.”
She sat at the dining table and reached for the breakfast waiting for her. Thiago watched her for a moment, then left without another word.
Minutes later, Anabelle changed into clothes provided by the maids. She had initially refused them, but yesterday’s clothes were dirty and ruined.
At the gate, the guards blocked her path.
“The boss instructed us not to let you leave until he says otherwise.”
Anabelle stared at them.
“So I’m a prisoner now? I’m not even engaged to your boss.”
Neither guard moved.
“Open the damn gate.”
“We can’t, ma’am.”
“I said open it. I don’t give a damn about your boss.”
Still nothing.
Furious, Anabelle returned inside and called Thiago.
He answered.
“Thiago, I need to go home.”
“Have you taken your medicine?”
Anabelle froze.
“Like you care. Stop this rubbish and tell your guards to let me out.”
Silence.
“Thiago!”
The line remained quiet.
“I need to go home.”
She ended the call.
---
SHYLA’S HOME
Shyla sat opposite her parents at the dining table. Their worn clothes looked painfully out of place in her luxurious home.
“You two are a stain on my name,” Shyla said. “It would have been better if you had died.”
Her father’s expression hardened.
“We don’t need a daughter like you. You are disowned.”
“Tell me, what child would want parents like you? Being born into your life was punishment enough.”
“We did everything we could to provide for you, Mariam—” her mother began.
“It’s Shyla.”
Her mother fell silent.
“And your best was never enough. Your best couldn’t give me a future, so don’t lecture me about sacrifices that solved nothing.”
“Stop crying for a child who doesn’t deserve your tears,” her father told his wife.
Shyla leaned back.
“The internet already knows you’re my parents. Denying you now will only cause me more trouble. So here’s the arrangement: I’ll pay you to act like my parents in public. In private, we stay out of each other’s lives.”
Her mother stared at her, heartbroken.
“You think everyone worships money like you?” her father snapped, slamming his hand against the table. “Some people still have dignity.”
“Don’t hit my table. That table could pay your bills.”
Her father glared at her.
“And don’t shout in my house. Look around. Is the roof leaking? Can you feel the air conditioning? This is the life I chose. You can keep your dignity and integrity.”
“Don’t speak to your father like that,” her mother said.
“All in the name of love, you gave birth to me into poverty.”
“You are a disgrace to us.”
Her father walked out.
Her mother remained behind, tears filling her eyes.
“Why, Mariam? Why have you become this?”
Shyla’s expression remained cold.
“If you want to follow your husband, then leave.”
Her mother did.
For the first time, the enormous house felt completely empty.
---
BAMIDELE MANSION
Fredrick studied his wife from across the room.
“You look troubled. Is it the boutique?”
“No. It’s Judith. She’s back in the country, and that means something.”
“Judith has always known how to create fear. Her being here could simply be another attempt to make us panic.”
“I’m not panicking,” Diana said. “I’m waiting.”
Minutes later, Thiago entered.
“Morning, Dad. Mom.”
“Morning, son,” Fredrick replied.
Diana forced a smile. “Morning.”
“I know Judith is back. Raymond too. The message has been received. I’ll handle it.”
“Just be careful,” Fredrick said.
Diana straightened. “No Bamidele is easily defeated.”
“She’s a James now,” Thiago corrected.
Fredrick nodded. “That’s a fact.”
Diana looked at her son. “So why did you call us here?”
“I’m announcing my engagement.”
Diana’s face immediately brightened.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. There will be an engagement party tomorrow, along with a press conference.”
“Who is she? Tell me. I promise I’ll find a way to meet her without revealing the secret.”
“You already know her.”
Diana frowned. “Who?”
“Your manager at Reigns Fashion World.”
“Bose?”
“No. Anabelle.”
The joy vanished from Diana’s face.
“Anabelle Alex?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t marry her.”
Thiago’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Why, darling?” Fredrick asked.
Diana hesitated.
“She’s risky.”
“How?”
“The video.”
“That’s exactly why we need to keep her close,” Thiago said.
Diana shook her head. “I don’t want you marrying because of this. I want you to have a real family, Thiago.”
“I know, Mom. But I have to do this.”
“The poor girl is innocent,” Fredrick said.
“I won’t hurt her.”
“And her feelings?”
“She has no feelings for me.”
Diana remained unconvinced. “She could still betray you.”
“I would have to trust her first.”
“This is not the marriage I planned for you.”
Thiago stood.
“When this is over, you can choose my next wife.”
Fredrick almost smiled.
Diana didn't.
“Just be careful.”
Thiago gave a quiet hum.
---
THIAGO’S MANSION
Anabelle and Thiago had spent the night in separate rooms without speaking.
The next morning, she woke to find a red dress beside her, matching shoes on the floor, jewellery on the table—and an open ring box.
Anabelle stared at it.
“What an engagement. I always imagined violins and a man on one knee. This one isn’t even here.”
A maid entered.
“The boss wants to see you.”
“If he wants to see me, he can come here.”
The maid left.
Seconds later, Thiago appeared.
Anabelle almost smiled.
So she could command him too.
“What do you want?”
“You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”
“I’m already in a mess I didn’t start.”
“Your father is downstairs.”
Thiago turned and left.
“I hate you, Thiago,” she muttered. “So damn much.”
---
Minutes later, Anabelle descended the stairs in the red dress.
Lawrence stood when he saw her.
“You look just like your mother the first time I saw her.”
“Though I never got to meet this mysterious mother of mine, I’m sure she was beautiful.”
She sat beside Thiago.
Lawrence studied them both.
“Are you happy with this decision?”
Anabelle glanced at Thiago.
She could say no.
She could leave.
But whether she liked it or not, she was already trapped in a fight she had never asked for. And Thiago’s protection had become the one shield she had.
“Yes, Dad. I am.”
She slipped her hand into Thiago’s.
Lawrence looked directly at him.
“Mr Thiago, you may be rich and powerful, but my daughter is the last person you want to mess with.”
Thiago remained perfectly serious.
“I would only mess her up with love, if that’s allowed.”
Lawrence laughed.
“Of course it is.”
Anabelle stared at Thiago.
Liar.
“So, Thiago. Where are you from?” Lawrence asked.
“Ibadan.”
“Your parents?”
“The public knows I’m an orphan.”
“When dealing with the public, you show them what you want them to see and control what they know. That's why I don't believe everything in the news.”
Thiago studied him.
“You’re a smart man, sir.”
“Of course. How do you think I’ve survived this long?”
Anabelle smiled faintly.
“Dad, have you fixed a date for him to meet the kinsmen?”
“Three weeks from now. But your husband must bring a family member.”
“I have an uncle,” Thiago said.
“Good.”
After some time, Lawrence stood to leave.
When he was gone, Anabelle tried to pull her hand from Thiago’s.
He didn't let go.
Instead, he raised his phone and took a picture of their intertwined hands and rings.
Then he posted it.
Anabelle frowned. “What was the red dress for?”
“That.”
The gates opened.
Cameras flashed.
Anabelle froze.
“What the—”
“Let’s go.”
Thiago led her towards the waiting press.
“Mr Thiago, is it true that you’re getting married?”
“Yes.”
“Why not Miss Sharon?”
“Who is your fiancée?”
“Anabelle Alexander.”
Another reporter shouted, “Won’t her scandal damage your reputation?”
Anabelle stiffened.
“No,” Thiago said calmly. “And in one week, Anabelle Alex will be known as Anabelle Adebayo.”
Anabelle turned sharply towards him.
One week?
Her father had said three.
Once they were away from the cameras, Anabelle stepped directly into Thiago’s path.
“My father said three weeks.”
“I heard him.”
“Then why did you just tell the entire country I’ll be your wife in one?”
Thiago met her furious gaze.
“Because you will be.”
Anabelle stared at him.
“No. I agreed to an engagement.”
“You agreed to become my wife.”
“Eventually!”
“The difference is seven days.”
“You are insane.”
“Possibly.”
“I am not marrying you next week.”
Thiago stepped closer.
For once, the coldness in his eyes carried something else.
Urgency.
“The wedding is in seven days, Anabelle.”
“Why?”
His phone rang.
Thiago looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
Barely.
But Anabelle noticed.
He answered.
“Speak.”
Silence.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Make sure Anabelle doesn't find out.”
Her blood ran cold.
Thiago ended the call.
Anabelle stared at him.
“Find out what?”
Thiago said nothing.
And suddenly, the wedding was no longer the question she needed answered.
- Writer
