Hïs Heart Was Mine to break

The bell above the glass door of La Rosa Boutique chimed, and Amara flinched. She was on her knees, scrubbing the white tiles with a torn wrapper tied around her waist. Her uniform — once black — had faded to grey. Sweat rolled down her pretty face, but she was still hot, even in suffering. That was the problem. "Amara! Are you mad?" Madam Roli's voice cut like a whip. "I said you should arrange that dress before you mop! Useless village girl!" "Sorry ma, sorry ma," Amara whispered, jumping up. Her hands were shaking. Madam Roli was her boss, her landlady, and her tormentor. For six months now, since Amara left her small town in Abia to come hustle in Lagos, she had been living in the back store of this boutique. No salary. Only insults and leftover food. And today was worse because rent was due. "You think because you fine small, man go come save you?" Madam Roli laughed, eyeing Amara's curves. "No man wants a dirty sales girl. Go arrange that window!" Amara swallowed her tears. She was independent. She was capable. Her mother taught her never to beg a man. That was why she had refused to go back to the village after her mother died. She would make it in Lagos, even if she had to scrub floors with her bare hands. She walked to the window and started arranging the red gown on the mannequin. Her hands were soft, her eyes kind, but inside her was a brave fire that refused to die. That was when the glass door chimed again. This time, the air changed. A man walked in. Tall. Powerful. Composed. He wore a black suit that probably cost more than Madam Roli's whole boutique. His face was handsome — dangerously handsome — but stoic, like a man who never smiled. His eyes were cold, hidden behind confidence. Jidenna Okoro. Billionaire. CEO of Okoro Group. The most eligible bachelor in Lagos, and the most mysterious. Every girl in Lagos knew his name. No girl had ever touched his heart. Madam Roli suddenly changed her voice to honey. "Sir! Welcome sir! Welcome to La Rosa!" Jidenna didn't even look at her. His eyes were fixed on Amara. She was struggling with the zip of the mannequin's gown. Her wrapper had shifted, her hair was scattered, and she looked innocent and completely out of place in this luxury shop. But her eyes — when she lifted them — hit him like a bullet. "Who is she?" he asked, his voice deep and low. "Ah, nobody sir, just my sales girl," Madam Roli rushed to say. "Amara, greet oga!" Amara quickly bowed her head. "Good afternoon sir." Jidenna stepped closer. He could smell cheap detergent and something sweet — her natural scent. He stared at her tag. AMARA - STAFF. "You let your staff dress like a cleaner?" he said coldly to Madam Roli. Madam Roli laughed nervously. "Na punishment sir, she..." "Enough." Jidenna cut her off. He turned back to Amara. "What's your name?" "Amara, sir." "Amara," he repeated, like he was tasting the name. "Do you know who I am?" She shook her head honestly. "No sir." For the first time in three years, Jidenna Okoro smiled. A small, dangerous smile. Madam Roli saw that smile and her blood boiled with jealousy. "I need a dress for an event tonight. For my... partner. Her size is your size," Jidenna said, eyes still on Amara. "Ah yes sir, we have many dresses!" Madam Roli pushed Amara away. "Come, sir, let me show you..." "I want her to show me," Jidenna said, pointing at Amara. "Only her." The boutique went silent. Amara's heart was beating like a drum. This man was powerful, confident, the kind of man who could ruin her with one phone call. But she was not afraid. She was brave. "Okay sir," she said softly. "What kind of dress?" "Something that makes a man lose his senses," he said, staring straight into her eyes. Amara's cheeks turned red. Madam Roli watched them, her hands clenched. She had seen that look before. Rich men always fell for Amara's pretty face. She would not allow it. Not in her shop. As Amara led Jidenna to the back section, Madam Roli quickly picked up her phone and typed: "Come now. That village girl don see client." Jidenna followed Amara. He watched how she walked, how she tried to hide her pain with grace. She was elegant even in rags. Diligent even when humiliated. Loyal even to a madam who hated her. Who was this girl? "How much do they pay you here?" he asked suddenly. Amara stopped. She didn't want to answer. Shame choked her. "They don't pay you, do they?" His voice dropped lower. Amara's eyes filled with tears but she refused to let them fall. "I manage, sir." In that moment, Jidenna made a decision that would change both their lives forever. "You will leave this place," he said. Amara looked up, shocked. "What?" "My house needs a personal stylist. I will pay you fifty thousand naira a week. You start tomorrow." Fifty thousand a week? Amara had never held ten thousand at once in her life! But before she could answer, two huge men entered the boutique — Madam Roli's brothers. "So na here you dey seduce rich man?" one shouted, grabbing Amara's arm. Amara screamed. And Jidenna's cold eyes turned to ice. ---