The billionaire contract bride

CHAPTER ONE Thirty Days The first thing Boluwatife Adeyemi noticed when she walked into the lawyer's office was the air conditioner. It was too cold. Cold enough to make her wish she'd brought a cardigan. The second thing she noticed was the envelope sitting on the desk. Cream-colored. Thick. Her name was written across the front in black ink. BOLUWATIFE ADEYEMI. She stared at it for several seconds. Something about the envelope made her stomach tighten. "Miss Adeyemi?" Tolu looked up. The man sitting across from her was probably in his late fifties. His grey hair was neatly cut, his navy suit looked expensive without being flashy, and the gold-framed glasses resting low on his nose made him look like the sort of man who had spent his entire life delivering bad news to people who couldn't afford to hear it. "Yes?" "Please, have a seat." "I'm already sitting." The lawyer paused. Tolu realized how sharp she'd sounded and sighed. "Sorry." "It's all right." She lowered herself into the leather chair opposite his desk. Outside the large glass windows, Lagos was already awake. Traffic crawled along the road below. Horns sounded every few seconds. People hurried between cars. Somewhere in the distance, the city was beginning another ordinary morning. Tolu wished she were out there. Anywhere but here. Her mother had called her at seven that morning. Please come with me. That was all she'd said. No explanation. No warning. Just those four words. Tolu had left home expecting another argument about money. Instead, she'd found herself sitting inside the office of one of the most respected property lawyers in Lagos. And now there was an envelope with her name on it. She looked at her mother. "Mummy?" Her mother hadn't said a word since they'd arrived. She sat beside Tolu, hands folded tightly in her lap. Her mother's silence frightened her more than anything else. "Mummy, what is going on?" Her mother looked at the lawyer. The lawyer nodded once. Then he opened the envelope. Tolu's heartbeat changed. "The property located at Admiralty Way, Lekki Phase One..." She stopped listening. For one horrible second, everything inside her went still. "Our house?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended. The lawyer looked at her. "Yes." "No." Tolu shook her head. "No. Why are we discussing our house?" Her mother finally spoke. "Tolu." "No, Mummy." She stood. The lawyer remained calm. "Please sit down." "Why are you talking about selling our house?" "Nobody has said the house is being sold." "Then why is he talking about the property?" Her mother reached for her hand. Tolu pulled away. "Mummy, what's happening?" Her mother's eyes filled with tears. And suddenly Tolu knew. Not everything. But enough. She slowly sat back down. The lawyer folded his hands on the desk. "There is an outstanding financial obligation attached to the property." "How much?" Silence. Tolu looked from him to her mother. "How much?" "Thirty-eight million naira." The room seemed to shrink. Tolu stared at him. "Thirty-eight..." She laughed once. Not because it was funny. Because sometimes the human brain did strange things when it didn't know how else to react. "Thirty-eight million?" Her mother looked down. Tolu stared at the lawyer. "And how long do we have?" He hesitated. "Thirty days." The laughter disappeared. Thirty days. She leaned back. "Thirty days to do what?" "Settle the outstanding obligation." "And if we don't?" The lawyer removed his glasses. "Then the property may be subject to legal recovery proceedings." Tolu didn't understand the sentence at first. Then she did. They could lose the house. Their house. The house where she'd spent almost her entire life. The house with the old mango tree in the backyard. The house where her father used to sit every Sunday morning reading newspapers. The house where her mother still kept the tiny room she'd turned into a sewing room even though she hardly sewed anymore. The house where Tolu had measured her height against the wall every birthday until she was seventeen. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" Her mother wiped her cheek. "We were trying to handle it." "Handle it?" "Tolu—" "You were going to let us lose the house without telling me?" "We didn't want to worry you." "Well, congratulations." Her voice cracked. "I'm worried." Her mother reached for her again. This time Tolu let her. The lawyer cleared his throat. "I understand this is difficult." "No, you don't." The words came out immediately. "I'm sorry, but you don't." He didn't argue. Tolu stared down at the documents spread across the desk. Thirty-eight million naira. Thirty days. She mentally ran through every person she knew. Her aunt? No. Her uncle? Definitely no. Family friends? They were struggling too. Her father's old business partners? Most of them had disappeared years ago. She had savings, but her savings were laughable compared with thirty-eight million. Even if she sold everything she owned, she wouldn't come close. She looked at her mother. "What about Daddy?" The silence that followed was answer enough. Her father's name had become difficult to say since he'd died. Tolu swallowed. "His life insurance?" "Gone." "The business?" "Debts." "The land?" "Sold." Tolu closed her eyes. She had known their finances weren't good. She hadn't known they were this bad. The lawyer pushed a document toward her. "Your mother has already spoken with us about possible options." "What options?" "Refinancing. Selling another asset. Bringing in an investor." "Do we have another asset?" Her mother shook her head. Tolu looked back at the lawyer. "And refinancing?" "Given the circumstances, it would be difficult." "So basically..." She stared at the paper. "We're losing the house." "No," her mother whispered. Tolu looked at her. Her mother's eyes were wet. "No," she repeated. "We're not." Tolu didn't know who she was trying to convince. Her mother. The lawyer. Or herself. But she knew one thing. She wasn't giving up. Not yet. --- By the time Tolu stepped outside the office, the Lagos heat had become unbearable. She stood on the pavement and inhaled deeply. Her mother came out behind her. "Tolu." "Don't." "Tolu, please." She turned around. "I'm not angry with you." Her mother looked surprised. "I'm angry that you didn't tell me." "We thought we could solve it." "Who is we?" Her mother looked away. Tolu sighed. Then she hugged her. Her mother immediately began crying. Tolu held her tightly. "It's okay." "It's not." "We'll fix it." "How?" Tolu didn't have an answer. Still, she said it again. "We'll fix it." --- Three days later, Tolu had applied for seventeen jobs. Six had rejected her. Four hadn't responded. Two wanted experience she didn't have. Three offered salaries so small that even if she saved every naira, she'd never reach thirty-eight million. The last two were suspicious enough that she'd deleted their messages immediately. She sat at her desk at two in the morning, staring at her laptop. Thirty days. Twenty-seven now. She rubbed her eyes. Her phone buzzed. Kelechi: Are you awake? Tolu stared at the message. She typed. Tolu: Unfortunately. Three dots appeared. Kelechi: Good. I have an idea. Tolu groaned. Whenever Kelechi had an "idea" after midnight, it was almost always terrible. Tolu: If your idea involves crime, I'm sleeping. Kelechi: You need money. Tolu sat upright. Tolu: What did you hear? The reply came immediately. Kelechi: Your mother told my mother. Of course. Lagos had no secrets. Tolu dropped her head onto the desk. Kelechi: Don't panic. Tolu: I'm past panic. Kelechi: What if I told you there's a man looking for a wife? Tolu lifted her head. She stared at the screen. Then typed: Tolu: I'm going to sleep. Kelechi: WAIT. Kelechi: I'm serious. Tolu: Goodnight. Kelechi: His name is Alexander Stone. Tolu stopped. She knew that name. Everyone did. Alexander Stone. The Stone Group. Real estate. Technology. Energy. Hospitality. International investments. The man had appeared in business magazines more times than Tolu could count. Half Nigerian. Half American. Billionaire. Private. Unmarried. And, according to Kelechi's next message, currently in Lagos. Kelechi: Apparently his grandmother wants him married. Tolu stared at the screen. Then laughed. Tolu: Kelechi, I am not marrying a billionaire. Kelechi: Nobody said anything about real marriage. The laughter disappeared. Tolu slowly sat back. She read the message again. Nobody said anything about real marriage. --- The following afternoon, Tolu sat across from Alexander Stone. And immediately decided she hated him. She couldn't explain exactly why. Maybe it was the way he walked into the restaurant ten minutes late without apologizing. Maybe it was the expression on his face, as though the entire world had become an inconvenience he'd learned to tolerate. Maybe it was the black suit. Perfectly tailored. No visible logo. No flashy watch. Nothing excessive. Somehow, that made him look richer. He sat across from her. "Boluwatife." "Tolu." His eyebrow lifted. "What?" "My name is Tolu." "I know." "Then call me Tolu." A pause. "All right." He opened the folder in front of him. No small talk. No introduction. No attempt to charm her. Tolu leaned back. "So this is how you normally speak to people?" "How?" "Like they're wasting your time." "You were the one who agreed to meet." "I didn't know you'd be this pleasant." His eyes finally met hers. They were dark. Unreadable. "Do you always talk this much?" "Only when someone annoys me." "Then I'll try to keep this brief." He slid a document across the table. Tolu looked at it. Then at him. "What is this?" "My proposal." She opened the folder. The first sentence made her stop. She read it again. Then looked up. "You're joking." "No." She looked back at the paper. One million dollars. For one year. Marriage. Her eyes widened. "You want me to marry you?" "Yes." "For one year." "Yes." "One million dollars." "Yes." She stared at him. "Are you insane?" "No." "You've never met me." "I have now." "That's not the point." "I know." "Then what is the point?" Alexander leaned back. "My grandmother is ill." His expression changed slightly. Not much. But enough for Tolu to notice. "She has one request." "And that is?" "She wants me married." Tolu stared at him. "And you think I'm suitable?" "I think you're suitable for the conditions." "The conditions?" "My grandmother wants an African woman. Someone respectable. Someone she can trust." Tolu almost laughed. "And you think you can buy one?" "No." His voice was calm. "I'm offering you a contract." She closed the folder. "I'm not interested." She stood. Alexander didn't move. "You should at least read the rest." "I've read enough." "Thirty-eight million naira." Tolu froze. Her hand tightened around her handbag. Slowly, she turned around. Alexander looked at her. "I know about the house." Her heart dropped. "You've been investigating me?" "I investigate anyone I'm considering entering a legal agreement with." "This isn't a business agreement." "It will be." He stood. "One year, Tolu." She hated how easily he said her name. "One million dollars." She stared at him. "One year," he repeated. "Then we're done." Tolu looked toward the restaurant doors. Then back at him. For the first time since she'd entered the room, Alexander's expression softened. Not much. But enough. "You save your family home." He closed the folder. "I get what I need." Tolu didn't answer. She walked away. But for the first time in three weeks, the impossible number in her head didn't seem quite so impossible. One million dollars. Twenty-seven days. And a choice she never imagined she'd have to make.