CHAPTER SEVEN
1259 Words
Mirabel only stepped out to buy shawarma and bottled water. Nothing deep. Nothing dramatic.
But the city never minded its business.
She was humming Davido's song, Dodo, quietly as she left the fast-food joint, swinging the nylon bag like it was a trophy. The evening breeze carried frying oil, dust, and that usual Lagos chaos she had somehow grown fond of.
Then a sleek black SUV slowed beside her.
Tinted windows. Smooth engine hum. Too familiar.
The window rolled down.
And there he was.
Victor.
Ethan’s unlucky, overworked, permanently stressed assistant.
They both froze.
“You!” they said at the same time.
Mirabel burst into laughter. “Ah! Assistant General! You again!”
Victor pushed his glasses up in shock. “You’re— you’re the loud— I mean— the energetic friend.”
Mirabel placed a hand on her chest. “Energetic is better. Loud would’ve been violence.”
Victor exhaled with relief. “Good. Then energetic it is.”
He stepped out of the car. The wind messed with his tie, and he looked like a man who desperately needed eight hours of sleep and a hug.
“What are you doing around here?” he asked.
“Oh, you know…” She raised the nylon bag. “Supporting the local economy.”
Victor chuckled lightly — and for a second, he didn’t look stressed. “I remember you from the boutique. Your friend’s store was impressive.”
“She’s talented,” Mirabel said proudly.
“I could tell. Ethan doesn’t get impressed often.”
“Your boss doesn’t get impressed at all.”
That made Victor laugh harder than she expected.
They talked casually until Victor’s expression shifted — thoughtful, calculating — the way someone looks when remembering something important.
“You know…” he began, lowering his voice, “our company is expanding. And we need more hands. Specifically, a data scientist.”
Mirabel blinked slowly. “A data scientist…?”
“Yes. A very good one. Someone sharp. The kind of mind Ethan wouldn’t complain about.”
He paused. “Do you know anyone like that?”
Mirabel bit back a grin.
She did know someone. Someone brilliant, disciplined, terrifyingly smart.
Someone who could read numbers the way prophets read visions.
But she wasn’t about to shout Nuellah’s name on the roadside.
“Yes,” Mirabel said casually. “I know someone.”
Victor’s eyes brightened. “You do?”
She nodded confidently. “Very good. Very reliable. She won’t embarrass you.”
“That alone makes her more qualified than half the people we’ve interviewed,” Victor muttered. Then, he straightened. “Please send her details when you can. If she’s as capable as you say, Ethan will consider her.”
Mirabel’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
Then he added, “And… about your friend’s boutique — if she’s open to corporate styling deals or VIP wardrobe setups for our retreats, tell her. I’ll recommend her.”
Mirabel gasped dramatically. “Assistant General! You’re an asset!”
Victor looked embarrassed. “I try.”
The air between them warmed — unexpected, easy.
Then Mirabel whispered, “You know we look like two spies planning crime on the road like this.”
Victor choked on his spit. “We’re— what?! No— we’re—”
Mirabel burst into laughter, almost falling over.
He looked at her like she was chaos wrapped in sunshine.
Finally, he checked the time and grimaced. “I have to go. If I’m five minutes late, Ethan will turn me into a motivational example.”
“Tell him Mirabel says hi.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“You fear him too much.”
“Everyone fears him too much.”
Mirabel shook her head with amusement as he climbed into the SUV.
But before the door closed, he leaned out the window again.
“And Mirabel?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
Her smile softened. “You’re welcome.”
The SUV pulled away.
Mirabel stared at nothing for three seconds.
Then reality entered her bloodstream.
“OH MY GOD!”
She grabbed her head, spinning in a circle.
She just recommended Nuellah…
To work in Ethan Reed’s empire.
Nuellah would definitely murder her.
Mirabel sprinted home like a madwoman.
She arrived breathless, bursting into the apartment like a dramatic movie heroine.
“Nelly! Nelly! NELLY!”
Nuellah almost threw her plate. “What in God’s name is wrong with you?”
Mirabel didn’t answer — she flung herself onto the couch. “I met Victor!”
“And…?” Nuellah raised an eyebrow, still chewing plantain.
“And he said their company needs a data scientist.”
Nuellah paused mid-chew. “Okay…”
“And he asked if I knew anyone.”
The silence that followed was dangerous.
“Mirabel…”
Nuellah’s voice dropped.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
Mirabel coughed. “Well… um… I said yes.”
“You WHAT?!” Nuellah stood, eyes wide. “Mirabel! Why would you— why would you do that?!”
“Because you’re brilliant!” Mirabel defended. “Because you deserve more than standing behind a counter! Because this is Ethan’s company — Ethan! Do you know what kind of salaries they pay?!”
“I don’t want it.”
“What?” Mirabel blinked. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s too close to him,” Nuellah said quietly.
Mirabel’s anger softened instantly.
“You’re scared,” she whispered.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Nuellah turned away.
Mirabel approached her gently. “Nelly… listen. You’re not getting this because of Ethan. You’re getting it because you’re a genius with numbers. Because you’ve worked. Because you earned it.”
“It feels… risky,” Nuellah murmured.
“Great things are risky,” Mirabel countered. “You’re not going there for him. You’re going for you.”
Nuellah swallowed hard. “I don’t want to depend on him. I don’t want favoritism. I don’t want to look like that girl who got in because a powerful man noticed her.”
“And who said it’s favoritism?” Mirabel tapped her forehead. “Victor asked for a data scientist. I recommended a beast. That’s all.”
Nuellah sat down slowly, overwhelmed. “Mirabel… I don’t know.”
Mirabel sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“You’re scared of stepping up, Nelly. That’s the truth. You survived too much to believe good things can come to you.”
Nuellah’s eyes stung, but she hid it.
Mirabel squeezed her hand. “Take the chance. And if Ethan tries anything shady, I’ll fight him myself — with a frying pan.”
Nuellah laughed softly despite herself. “Mirabel, you can’t even carry a frying pan properly.”
“It’s the intention that matters.”
Silence settled. Soft. Heavy.
Then finally —
“Okay,” Nuellah whispered.
Mirabel blinked. “Okay what?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Mirabel shot up like fireworks. “YESSSSSS!!”
“Don’t scream—”
“I CAN’T HELP IT! MY BEST FRIEND IS ABOUT TO JOIN A BILLIONAIRE TECH EMPIRE!”
“You’re dramatic.”
“And you’re hired!”
“I’m not hired—”
Mirabel danced around the room.
Nuellah sighed into her pillow.
This was going to be chaos.
Beautiful, terrifying chaos.
And somewhere across the city, Ethan Reed had no idea that the girl who haunted him at night…
might soon walk into his building.
- Writer
