THE PRICE OF LOVE

CHAPTER 3

ROCK BOTTOM

---

The day after the gala I woke up famous.

`WHO IS THE MYSTERY GIRL WITH MARK DANIELS?`

`MARK DANIELS HAS A NEW GIRLFRIEND`

`EXCLUSIVE: SHE’S AN EX-BANK TELLER`

My face was everywhere.

In the red dress.

On Mark’s arm.

Smiling like I wasn’t dying inside.

My phone had 400 missed calls.

Aunties.

Cousins.

Old classmates.

And 50 texts from Maxwell.

And 1 from Crystal: `You think you’re better than me now?`

I turned it off.

My sister was screaming. "Marvel! You’re on TV!"

"I know," I said.

"It’s for work."

"What kind of work?"

"The kind that pays," I said.

She didn’t ask more.

---

11am.

I had to go to the bank.

The same bank I used to work at.

To collect my last salary and my letter.

I was fired 2 weeks ago.

"Poor performance," they said.

Translation: I kept taking days off to run Maxwell’s errands.

The manager, Mrs. Bello, looked at me when I walked in.

"Oh.

The one with the billionaire."

"Good morning ma."

"Your account has been closed," she said.

"And here."

She slid an envelope.

`TERMINATION LETTER`

I took it.

"Thank you ma."

"Don’t let that money change you, Marvel.

Rich men chew girls like you and spit them out."

I nodded and walked out.

Last salary: ₦18,000.

That was all I had to my name.

---

2pm that day.

I was at home.

when my phone rang.

I looked at the screen .

Mom

"Hello Mama"

"My baby,

How are you".

"Am fine Mama, is there any problem?.

where is Michael?"

"Marvel my daughter".

"Mama "

"The hospital said they need ₦3.2 million ,before they can do the surgery."

"Okay mama."

"And your brother’s school.

They said if we don’t pay ₦450,000 by Friday they’ll send him home."

"Okay mama."

"Are you eating well?"

"Yes mama."

I hung up and cried in the bathroom.

For 20 minutes.

Then I washed my face and checked Mark’s text.

`Pick you up at 6.

Event at the Civic Center.

Black dress.`

Right.

The job.

---

6pm.

The car came.

Driver didn’t talk.

I didn’t talk.

Civic Center was full of Lagos big men.

And Mark.

Waiting at the entrance.

No smile.

Just "You’re late."

"Traffic."

"Don’t do it again."

We walked in.

Hands linked.

Smiling for cameras.

"Mr. Daniels, who’s the lady?"

"My girlfriend, Marvel."

"Marvel, what do you do?"

"I work in finance," I lied.

"Oh, like him?"

"Something like that."

All night I stood there.

Holding his arm.

Laughing at jokes I didn’t get.

Eating food I couldn’t taste.

Every 10 minutes his phone would buzz.

Board.

Investors.

Lawyer.

He’d step away, talk, come back.

Like nothing was wrong.

At 10pm he leaned down.

"You’re doing good."

"Thanks."

"You don’t have to force the smile."

"I’m fine."

He looked at me.

"You’re lying.

But okay."

---

Midnight.

He dropped me at my sister’s.

"Same time tomorrow?" I asked.

"Tomorrow is free," he said.

"Rest."

"Oh. Okay."

I got out.

As I was closing the door he said,

"Marvel."

"Yeah?"

"The money.

It’s real.

I’m not going to scam you."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

He drove off.

---

I went inside and checked my bank.

₦18,000.

I called the hospital.

"Sir, we need at least ₦1 million deposit or we can’t book the date."

"I understand."

I called my brother’s school.

"Ma, Friday is the deadline."

"I understand."

I sat on the floor.

Rock bottom.

No job.

No boyfriend.

No money.

No dignity.

Just a contract with a stranger for ₦50 million.

My phone rang.

Unknown number.

I almost didn’t answer.

Then I did.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Adeyemi."

"Yes?"

"This is Dr. Adebayo from General Hospital."

"Yes doctor?"

"About your mother.

We moved her surgery date up.

To next week.

But we need the deposit by tomorrow or we lose the slot."

My chest caved in.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. ₦1 million."

"Okay.

Thank you doctor."

I hung up.

Tomorrow.

₦1 million.

I had ₦18,000.

I laughed.

Because what else do you do?

I opened my phone.

Mark’s number was saved as `M - Daniels`.

My thumb hovered over it.

No.

The contract said end of 6 months.

I couldn’t ask for advance.

I couldn’t look desperate.

But my mom.

I called.

It rang twice.

"Mark Daniels."

"Hi. It’s Marvel."

"Is everything okay?"

"No," I said.

And my voice broke.

"What happened?"

And I told him.

Everything.

The hospital.

The school.

The ₦18,000.

The firing.

The shame.

When I finished I was crying.

Ugly crying.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"I shouldn’t have called you.

Forget it."

Silence.

Then:

"Send me your account details."

"What?"

"Your account details, Marvel.

Now."

"I can’t—"

"You can," he said. Firm. "Send it."

I did.

Because I was weak.

Because I was desperate.

Because I was rock bottom.

5 minutes later:

`Alert: Credit of ₦1,500,000 from DANIELS HOLDINGS`

I stared at it.

Then stared at my phone.

"Mark, why—"

"Consider it an advance," he said. "For services."

"What services? We haven’t—"

"The gala.

The photos.

You did your job."

"But the contract says—"

"I’m rewriting the contract," he said.

"Clause added: Emergency funds available upon request.

No interest."

I couldn’t talk.

"Marvel?"

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Don’t thank me," he said.

"Just take care of your mom."

He hung up.

I sat there.

With ₦1.5 million in my account.

That wasn’t mine.

That I didn’t earn.

That a stranger gave me.

I called the hospital.

Paid the deposit.

Booked the surgery.

I called the school.

Paid my brother’s fees.

Then I sat in the dark.

For the first time in 3 years, my family was okay.

And the person who made it happen

wasn’t Maxwell.

It was Mark Daniels.

The man I was pretending to date.

---

Next morning.

I woke up to another text from Mark.

`Pick you up at 2. We need to talk about the contract.`

Talk about the contract.

Right.

I wore a simple dress.

No makeup.

Because I owe him honesty now.

The car came.

We didn’t go to an event.

We went to his office.

Room 40.

Same place.

He was at the window.

"Close the door," he said.

I did.

He turned.

"You cried yesterday," he said.

"Yes."

"Don’t do that again."

"Why?"

"Because it makes me want to fix things.

And I’m not in the business of fixing people."

Oh.

"But I did it anyway," he said.

"So we need new rules."

"Okay."

"Rule 1: You tell me if there’s a problem.

Before it becomes a crisis."

"Okay."

"Rule 2: No more hiding.

From me."

"Okay."

He walked to me.

Stopped 1 foot away.

"You smell like hospital soap."

"I’m sorry—"

"Don’t be," he said.

"It suits you."

We stood there.

Quiet.

Then his phone rang.

He ignored it.

It rang again.

He ignored it.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"My mother," he said.

"She saw the photos."

"What did she say?"

"That I should bring you home for dinner."

I blinked.

"Dinner?"

"With my parents.

This Sunday."

"Mark, that wasn’t in the contract—"

"I know," he said.

"But it’s part of the job now."

My stomach dropped.

Meet the parents.

The billionaire parents.

As his fake girlfriend.

"Can I say no?"

"No," he said.

"But I’ll be there.

With you."

He walked past me to the door.

Paused.

"Oh.

And Marvel?"

"Yes?"

"Wear something simple.

My mother hates gold diggers."

The door closed behind him.

And I was left standing there.

With ₦1.5 million that wasn’t mine.

With a dinner with billionaires on Sunday.

With a contract that was starting to feel less like business and more like a trap.

CLIFFHANGER:I thought the rock bottom was being broken. I was wrong. Rock bottom was owing a man I was starting to like._