The Proposal
474 Words
Adaobi blinked up at him, convinced she had misheard. “E-excuse me?”
The man’s expression didn’t flicker. His eyes were as cold and sharp as glass.
“I’ll solve your financial problems. All of them. In return, you’ll be my wife—for one year.”
Adaobi’s lips parted in disbelief, then snapped shut. Heat rushed to her face.
“Are you insane?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if her anger amused him. “No. I’m offering you a deal.”
Her hand stung before she even realized what she’d done. Slap. The sound echoed down the street.
“You arrogant—find another desperate woman to play your games with!”
She spun on her heel and stormed away, dragging her suitcase behind her. Her heart hammered with rage. How dare he? How dare a man like that treat her life like some bargain sale?
But the fury didn’t last.
Hours later, Adaobi sat in the hospital corridor, her brother’s faint coughing seeping through the thin door. The doctor’s words still rang in her ears: “Without the treatment, his condition will worsen.”
Treatment she couldn’t afford.
Her fists clenched. The eviction notice burned in her bag. The dismissal letter was still in her box. Everywhere she turned, walls closed in.
Her mind betrayed her, replaying that man’s words: “I’ll solve your financial problems. All of them.”
No. She couldn’t. Pride screamed at her to forget him. But the sound of her brother’s labored breathing made her heart ache until it nearly broke.
The next morning, she stood outside the glittering headquarters of Kalu Group, her suitcase at her side.
He was waiting. She didn’t know how she knew, but she wasn’t surprised when he stepped out of a sleek black car, immaculate in another expensive suit. His gaze locked onto her instantly, as if he’d expected her all along.
Adaobi swallowed hard, her pride bleeding out with each shaky breath.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered. “I accept.”
For the first time, a shadow of a smile touched his lips. But his eyes remained cold.
“Good. Sign this.”
He handed her a crisp document: Marriage Contract; Duration: One Year.
Her hands trembled as she held the pen. The letters blurred as tears pricked her eyes. But she pressed the nib to paper anyway, stroke by stroke, until her name sealed her fate.
Oba took the contract back, glancing at it once before slipping it into his briefcase. He leaned closer, so close she felt the whisper of his breath on her skin.
“Remember this, Adaobi. No love. No feelings. You’re nothing but my contracted wife.”
Her heart twisted painfully. She wanted to hate him. Instead, all she felt was fear of the unknown cage she had just walked into.
- Writer
