THE PRICE OF LOVE

CHAPTER 4

50 MILLION

---

Room 40 was cold.

Too cold.

Like Mark kept it that way on purpose.

To remind you who was in charge.

I sat on the leather chair across from his desk.

Hands in my lap.

Simple dress.

No makeup.

Trying to look like I wasn’t drowning.

Mark was standing at the window again.

Back to me.

Phone in his hand.

His mother had called 3 times since I got here.

Finally he turned.

No smile.

No small talk.

Just business.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"I got your text."

"Good."

He sat down.

Opened a folder.

Pulled out papers.

Thick.

Legal.

"The contract," he said.

"Final version."

He slid it to me.

I didn’t touch it.

"Can you... explain it to me first?

In normal English?"

Mark looked at me.

For 2 seconds his mask slipped.

Tired.

Then it was back.

"Fine," he said. "I’ll break it down."

He stood up.

Started pacing.

"6 months.

Starting today."

"Your job: Be seen with me.

3-4 events per week.

Dinners.

Family functions.

Photos."

"You don’t talk to the press.

You don’t post without approval.

You don’t bring your own drama."

"In return: ₦50,000,000.

Paid in full at the end.

Plus an apartment in Ikoyi.

Paid.

Plus car.

Plus allowance of ₦500k monthly."

I blinked.

"That’s... a lot."

"It is," he said.

"Because the stakes are high."

He stopped pacing.

Looked at me.

"My company is merging with a foreign firm in 6 months.

$2 billion deal.

The board thinks I’m 'emotionally unstable' because I’m 32 and single.

They think I can’t commit to the company if I can’t commit to a person."

He said it flat.

Like it didn’t hurt.

"So I need a girlfriend.

Believable. Present.

For 6 months.

Until the papers are signed."

"And then?"

"And then we break up.

Publicly.

Amicably.

'Grew apart.'

You walk away with the money.

NDA keeps you quiet forever."

I picked up the contract.

50 pages.

Clause 8.3 caught my eye:

`Either party found to have developed romantic feelings must be disclosed immediately.

Failure to do so results in forfeiture of payment.`

My stomach dropped.

"No feelings," I whispered.

"Correct," Mark said.

"No feelings.

That’s the point."

Silence.

Outside, Lagos traffic was loud.

Inside, it was just us and the contract.

"Why me?" I asked again.

"You could have any girl.

Model.

Actress."

"Because you need the money," he said.

Blunt.

"And you have nothing to lose.

No career.

No reputation.

No family that will cause problems."

He paused.

"And because when I saw you at the gala, you didn’t look at me like everyone else does."

"How did I look at you?"

"Like I was a person.

Not a bank account."

I didn’t know what to say to that.

"Think about it," he said. "You have until 6pm."

"I don’t need to think," I said. And my voice didn’t shake. "I’ll do it."

Mark raised an eyebrow.

"You didn’t even read it."

"I read enough," I said.

"₦50 million will pay for my mom’s surgery.

My brother’s school.

Get my family out of debt.

That’s all I care about."

He studied me.

"Most people would ask for more."

"I’m not most people," I said.

He nodded.

Once.

"Okay.

Sign here."

I signed.

`Marvel Adeyemi`

Right under `Mark Daniels`

The pen felt heavy.

"Good," he said.

"Aisha will take you to see the apartment today.

The car will be delivered tomorrow.

First event is Friday.

Charity dinner."

"What do I wear?"

"We’ll send you something."

He stood up. Meeting over.

At the door I stopped.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"What happens if... if I do catch feelings?"

He didn’t look at me.

"Then you lose ₦50 million," he said.

"And I lost a merger.

So don’t."

The door closed.

---

The apartment was in Ikoyi.

2 bedrooms.

Floor to ceiling windows.

Marble floors.

Kitchen I’d never cook in.

"Mr. Daniels said you can move in today," Aisha said.

I had one bag.

My sister cried when I told her I was moving.

"Is this man good to you?"

"He’s paying me," I said.

"That’s all that matters."

That night I slept in a bed bigger than my old room.

Alone.

With ₦50 million waiting for me in 6 months.

---

Friday. Charity dinner.

The dress came in a box.

Red.

Silk.

₦2 million easy.

Shoes.

Bag.

Jewelry.

Note: `Don’t be late. - M`

The car picked me up at 7.

Mark was already at the venue.

Talking to ministers.

Billionaires.

He looked like he owned the world.

He saw me and walked over.

"You’re on time."

"Yes sir."

"Don’t call me sir."

"Yes... Mark."

He offered his arm.

We walked in.

Cameras.

`MARK DANIELS AND NEW GIRLFRIEND`

`WHO IS SHE?`

I smiled.

He smiled.

We looked perfect.

Halfway through dinner, my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

`I saw you.

You think you’re better than me now? Enjoy your sugar daddy. - C`

Crystal.

I deleted it.

Then another.

Unknown number.

`Marvel.

Baby.

Please.

I messed up.

I love you. - M`

Maxwell.

I blocked him too.

Mark noticed.

"Problem?"

"No," I said. "Just spam."

He didn’t believe me. But he didn’t push.

After dinner, speeches.

Mark went on stage.

"We at Daniels Holdings believe in family.

In commitment.

In building something that lasts."

The crowd clapped.

He looked at me while he said it.

My chest did something weird.

After, in the car.

"You did fine," he said.

"Too much smiling though.

Looks fake."

"Sorry."

"Don’t be sorry.

Just be real."

Real.

Right.

We drove in silence.

He dropped me at the apartment.

"Goodnight, Marvel."

"Goodnight, Mark."

I went inside.

Closed the door.

And counted.

5 months and 29 days to go.

₦50 million.

Easy.

---

Sunday.

"Family dinner," Mark texted.

`6pm.

My parents' house. Wear blue.`

I panicked.

Bought a ₦15,000 dress from the mall.

Blue.

Simple.

The driver took me to Banana Island.

Mansion.

Gates.

Security.

Mrs. Daniels opened the door herself.

Pearls.

Cold eyes.

"So you’re the girl."

"Good evening ma.

I’m Marvel."

"Come in."

Dinner was 10 courses.

Mr. Daniels barely spoke.

Mrs. Daniels asked:

"Where did you go to school?"

"I dropped out, ma."

"Oh."

"What does your father do?"

"He passed, ma."

"I see."

Mark kicked me under the table.

I shut up.

After dinner,

Mrs. Daniels pulled Mark aside.

I heard her whisper:

"She’s not good enough for you."

Mark said: "She’s good enough for me."

We left at 9pm.

In the car, neither of us talked.

Then Mark said:

"I’m sorry about my mother."

"It’s okay."

"It’s not.

But thank you.

For coming."

I nodded.

At my apartment, I got out.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this what the next 6 months will be like?"

"Probably," he said.

"You still in?"

"Yes," I said.

"I’m in."

He drove off.

I went upstairs.

Checked my phone.

₦500,000 alert.

`weekly allowance. - M`

I transferred ₦1 million to my mom.

₦450k to my brother’s school.

Kept ₦50k for myself.

Then I opened the contract again.

Clause 8.3.

`No romantic feelings.`

I traced the words with my finger.

₦50 million.

6 months.

No feelings.

I could do this.

I had to.

CLIFFHANGER:But as I turned off the lights, my phone lit up with one last text. From Maxwell: "You’re mine. And I’ll make him pay for taking you