The Language of Luxury

Her dream had always been the same. Luxury. A life where wealth wasn't whispered—it was impossible to ignore. A mansion overlooking the city. A garage filled with cars she couldn't pronounce. A black card with no spending limit. Designer gowns made just for her. A life where people turned to look the moment she stepped into a room. That was the future Anabelle dreamed of. She stood before a breathtaking black evening gown worth thirty million naira. The shop assistant smiled warmly. "Do you like this one, ma'am?" Anabelle tilted her head, studying the dress before shaking it gently. "Desperate." The assistant nodded and placed it aside. "How about this one?" She revealed another gown—a striking red off-shoulder dress with a thigh-high slit. Elegant, bold, and impossible to ignore. Anabelle walked around it once before a slow smile spread across her face. "Danger." The assistant laughed softly and added it to the growing collection. One by one, the selected gowns disappeared into beautifully wrapped shopping bags. When it was time to pay, Anabelle reached into her handbag and pulled out a sleek black card. "My favorite part." She handed it over with effortless confidence. The payment machine beeped. "Approved." The assistant bowed politely before carrying the shopping bags toward the luxury car waiting outside. As Anabelle admired the scene with satisfaction, the assistant suddenly turned back. "Madam..." Anabelle looked up. "If you're done dreaming... it's time to wake up." Her smile faded. "What?" The assistant's face blurred. "Anabelle, wake up!" The boutique vanished. "I'll pour water on you!" "What are you talking about? Have you lost your—" Everything went black. PRESENT Anabelle's eyes flew open. For a brief second, she stared at the ceiling, waiting for the luxurious bedroom from her dream to come into focus. Instead, she found the familiar cracked ceiling of the small apartment she shared with Bose. Reality settled in. Her shoulders slumped. "So... it was a dream." She sighed dramatically before sitting up. "Whoever keeps interrupting my billionaire life, may your pillow never have a cool side." A burst of laughter came from the doorway. "It wasn't fate," Bose said, folding her arms. "It was me." Only then did Anabelle notice her clothes were damp. She looked down. Then slowly back at Bose. "...Did you pour water on me?" "You wouldn't wake up." "So your solution was attempted murder?" "I used a cup." "A whole cup!" "You were smiling in your sleep. I called your name five times." "I was shopping." "In your dreams." "I had a black card." Bose laughed. "And now you have a wet shirt." Anabelle buried her face in her hands. "My happiness lasted exactly three minutes." "It was never real." "It felt real." Bose walked toward the tiny kitchen. "Keep dreaming if you want, but be quick. Today isn't the day to be late." Anabelle frowned. "What time is it?" "Six-thirty." "What?" She jumped off the bed. "That's too early!" "Not when Diana Bamidele is inspecting the boutique." The complaint died on Anabelle's lips. She hurried toward the bathroom before stopping halfway. "You really poured water on me." "I'd do it again." "No respect." "I prefer 'effective.'" Anabelle pointed a warning finger at her friend. "One day, when I become rich, you'll regret this." Bose grinned. "When you become rich, buy me breakfast first." Anabelle couldn't help smiling. "Deal." REIGN FASHION WORLD By seven-thirty, Reign Fashion World no longer looked like an ordinary boutique. Sales assistants moved swiftly from one display to another, straightening dresses that were already perfectly aligned. Mirrors were polished for the third time. Even the mannequins seemed to stand a little straighter. No one wanted to make a mistake. Today, Diana Bamidele was coming. Anabelle adjusted the sleeve of a display mannequin before stepping back to admire it. Bose walked over with a nervous sigh. "I swear I haven't blinked properly since I got here." "You'll survive." "What if she asks me a question?" "Answer it." "What if it's the wrong answer?" "Then pray." Bose glared at her. "You're enjoying this." "A little." Outside, the low growl of an engine silenced every conversation. A sleek black Lamborghini rolled to a stop in front of the boutique. Every member of staff immediately lined up on either side of the entrance. The glass doors opened. Diana Bamidele stepped inside. She wasn't loud. She didn't need to be. Her presence alone commanded attention. Dressed in an elegant cream suit, she walked through the boutique with calm, measured steps, her expression unreadable. Every employee bowed respectfully. "Good morning, Madam." She acknowledged them with a slight nod before turning to the boutique manager. "This way, Madam," he said politely. Diana followed him toward the office. The moment the door closed behind them, the staff released the breaths they had been holding. "I thought she looked at me," one employee whispered. "I hope nobody gets fired today," Bose muttered. Anabelle folded her arms with a grin. "I hope I get rich." One of the salesgirls nearby scoffed. "People like you always talk about becoming rich. They're usually the ones who stay poor." Anabelle slowly turned to face her. "Oh?" "Yes." Anabelle smiled. "When I become rich, remind me you said that." "And then?" "I'll make sure you're the first person to regret it." The salesgirl folded her arms. "I'll be waiting." Anabelle chuckled. "Good. Don't go anywhere." THE BAMIDELE MANSION The Bamidele mansion was not just a home. It was a symbol. Every corner carried the weight of a family whose name had existed for generations. The architecture, the rare paintings, the customized designs, and the quiet movements of the staff all reflected one thing — power. The Bamidele family did not need to announce their wealth. The mansion did it for them. Diana Bamidele walked through the halls with her usual elegance. Her presence alone was enough to make the maids straighten their posture. “Where is he?” she asked when she saw Judith approaching. “He is not back yet, ma’am.” Diana glanced at the time. “7:48.” Judith handed her the phone before stepping away. Diana looked at the screen for a moment before making a call. The call connected after a few seconds. “Why aren’t you home yet?” “Mom, I’m busy right now. I can’t make it.” Diana frowned. “But you promised.” “I don’t remember when.” Diana sat down slowly. “Thiago.” “What?” “You have been away for two months.” “And?” “And you think that is normal?” A small silence followed. “Did Dad travel?” Thiago asked. Diana narrowed her eyes. “Why are you asking?” “I knew it.” “Just come home,” she said. “Your father travelled, and this mansion is too quiet.” “Mom, we both know why I left.” “And we both know you have been avoiding coming back.” “I’m a man now. I shouldn’t still be living with my parents.” Diana immediately responded. “So you know your age is not for living in your parents’ house, but you forgot your age is also for getting married?” “Those are two different things.” “How?” “One needs a house. The other needs time. You don’t just wake up one morning and get a wife.” Diana sighed. “Arguing with you is impossible.” “I got that from you.” Despite herself, Diana smiled slightly. “Just come home.” “Fine. I’ll be late.” The call ended. Hours later, the dining table was prepared. In the Bamidele household, food waited for the family, not the other way around. Diana walked into the dining room with Fredrick. They took their seats, but the third seat remained empty. Minutes passed. Then footsteps echoed through the mansion. Thiago Bamidele entered. The atmosphere changed instantly. The maids lowered their heads respectfully as he walked past. Not because they were afraid, but because his presence demanded attention. He carried his mother’s controlled elegance and his father’s unpredictable confidence. His suit showed his success, but his eyes showed the discipline of someone who built everything himself. To the world, he was Thiago Adebayo. A self-made billionaire. To the Bamidele family, he was simply their son. “Took you long enough to come,” Diana said. Thiago pulled out his chair. “And you wanted to fool me, mummy?” Fredrick laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t work.” He immediately became quiet when Diana looked at him. Thiago sat down and glanced at the table. “Finally, a table for three.” Diana looked away. “She couldn’t make it.” Thiago understood immediately. “So how is work, Thiago Adebayo?” Fredrick asked. “Fine, Dad.” He collected his plate from Diana. “Thank you.” “When are you ready to receive your inheritance?” Fredrick asked. “Your mother wants me to stop travelling.” Thiago sighed. “My research project still needs my attention. I can’t handle the Bamidele empire yet.” Diana cleared her throat. Both men understood. The business discussion was finished. “Mom, your health,” Thiago said. Diana placed her fork down. “The doctor said my blood pressure is high.” Thiago looked at her carefully. “And the cause?” “You.” Thiago paused. “Me?” “Thinking about you being single is enough to stress me.” Fredrick tried not to laugh. “So that is the problem?” “Yes.” Thiago shook his head. “Really, Mom?” “Don’t play smart. I need a daughter-in-law.” She looked between the two men. “The two of you are impossible. Who am I supposed to talk to about girl things?” “You have friends.” Diana scoffed. “Those chameleons? They only stay close because I am impossible to ignore.” Fredrick laughed. Thiago shook his head. “Fine.” Diana looked at him. “Fine what?” “I’ll get you a daughter-in-law.” Fredrick immediately smiled. “Again?” Thiago looked at him. “Dad.” “I’m just saying.” Diana studied her son. “Do you mean it this time?” Thiago leaned back. “Yes.” “Good.” Thiago narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel like I just agreed to something dangerous?” Fredrick laughed. “Because you know your mother.” Diana calmly placed her glass down. “Since you have finally agreed to find a wife, we will make things easier.” Thiago immediately became suspicious. “Easier how?” Diana looked at him. “I will hold a bride candidate selection.” The table went silent. Thiago stared at his mother. “A what?” “A bride candidate selection.” Fredrick tried to hide his amusement. “No.” “Yes.” “Mom, I said I would get a wife. I did not say you should turn it into an event.” Diana remained calm. “And how exactly were you planning to find her?” Thiago opened his mouth but paused. Because he knew his answer would not satisfy her. “Exactly,” Diana said. She adjusted her posture. “The Bamidele name attracts attention. There are many women who want the position, but I do not want someone who only wants the title.” She looked directly at her son. “I want someone who can stand beside you.” Thiago leaned back, processing her words. “You already planned this.” Diana smiled slightly. “Maybe.” Fredrick shook his head. “Your mother has probably planned the entire thing already.” “I heard that,” Diana said. “You were meant to.” Thiago looked between his parents. “You two are unbelievable.” “But you agreed,” Diana reminded him. Thiago sighed. “Yes, I did.” “And you cannot go back on your word.” He looked at his mother and shook his head. For once, he had no argument. “Fine,” Thiago said. Diana smiled. “The bride candidate selection will begin soon.” And that night, inside the Bamidele mansion, a decision was made. The heir who had built his own empire, the man who believed he could control every outcome, had just agreed to a challenge he never expected. Finding a wife.