Chapter 3 - The Terms
938 Words
Okafor Tower was exactly what she expected.
Glass and steel rising fifty floors into the Victoria Island sky like a monument to ambition. The kind of building that made ordinary people feel small before they even walked through the door.
Adaeze walked through the door anyway.
She had worn her best work outfit. A fitted navy blazer, black trousers, low heels. Chioma had inspected her that morning with the seriousness of a general sending a soldier to war.
"You look powerful," Chioma had declared.
"I feel like I am walking into a lion's den."
"Same thing. Go."
The lobby was all marble and silence. Suited people moved with purpose. Security guards stood like statues. A receptionist with perfect makeup and a perfect smile looked up as Adaeze approached.
"Miss Obi?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Okafor is expecting you. Fifty second floor. I will let his PA know you have arrived."
Of course he was on the fifty second floor.
The elevator was the kind that moved so smoothly you barely felt it. Adaeze watched the numbers climb and told her heartbeat to behave itself.
It did not listen.
The doors opened to a waiting area that felt more like an art gallery. Cool air. Low music. A young man in a sharp suit stood immediately.
"Miss Obi. I am Dare, Mr. Okafor's personal assistant. Please follow me."
He led her down a corridor and stopped at a door at the end. Knocked once. Opened it.
"Miss Adaeze Obi, sir."
Then he stepped aside and she walked in.
The office was enormous. Floor to ceiling windows on two sides showing all of Lagos spread out below like a map. A long conference table to the left. Bookshelves lining one wall. And behind a large clean desk with almost nothing on it sat Emeka Okafor.
He looked up when she entered.
In the daylight he was somehow worse than she remembered.
More real. More present. The kind of man that a room reorganized itself around without asking permission.
He was on a phone call. He held up one finger without looking away from the window. One minute.
Adaeze sat down across from his desk and folded her hands in her lap and did not fidget. She had promised herself she would not fidget.
She did not fidget.
He ended the call. Set the phone down. Looked at her with those same dark unreadable eyes.
"You came," he said.
"You didn't give me much choice."
"I gave you a choice. You made it."
She held his gaze. "What are the terms?"
A slight nod. He appreciated directness. She filed that away.
He opened a folder on his desk and slid it across to her. Inside was a document. Twelve pages. Clean formatting. Dense text.
"The key points," he said. "We marry within three weeks at the registry. No ceremony. No celebration. We move into my residence in Ikoyi together for the duration of the twelve months. You will attend necessary public events as my wife. Business dinners. Family occasions. Nothing unreasonable."
"And privately?"
"Privately you will have your own room. Your own space. I will not disturb you and I expect the same."
She looked down at the document. "What about my job?"
"Keep it. I have no interest in controlling your movements."
"My mother?"
Something shifted almost imperceptibly in his expression. "What about her?"
"She is sick. She needs medication and regular hospital visits. If I am living in Ikoyi I need to know she is taken care of."
A pause. He studied her for a moment.
"I will arrange private healthcare for her. Full coverage for the duration of the contract."
Adaeze had not expected that. She kept her face steady but something loosened very slightly in her chest.
"The fifty million," she said. "When?"
"Ten million on the wedding day. The remainder when the twelve months are complete and I have secured the inheritance."
"And if you get what you need before twelve months?"
"The contract runs the full term regardless. I do not renegotiate."
She flipped through the pages. Read carefully. Chioma had made her promise to read everything carefully.
Minutes passed. He did not rush her. Did not check his phone. Simply waited with the patience of a man who had learned that silence was its own kind of power.
Finally she looked up.
"Clause nine," she said. "It says I cannot be in a romantic relationship with anyone else during the contract period."
"Correct."
"That applies to you as well."
It was not a question. He heard that.
"Correct," he said again. A beat. "Is that a problem?"
"No." She closed the folder. "I want my mother's healthcare to be written into this document before I sign."
He picked up his pen. Made a note without hesitation. "Done."
She looked at him across the desk. This man who had dismantled her life and rebuilt it into something unrecognizable in the space of forty eight hours.
"I will need a copy to review overnight," she said.
"My PA will send it to your email."
She stood. He stood. They looked at each other across the desk and the air between them was very still.
"Miss Obi," he said as she turned to leave.
She stopped. Looked back.
"I keep my word," he said. "Always."
She held his gaze for one long moment.
"So do I," she said.
She walked out.
In the elevator going down she finally let out the breath she had been holding for the last forty five minutes.
Fifty two floors.
She had made it fifty two floors without falling apart.
It was a start.
- Writer
