The Gatherings
Chapter One: The Gathering
The Adeyemi estate stood like a silent fortress on the hills of Ikoyi, Lagos. The towering white mansion, surrounded by imported palm trees and a fleet of luxury cars, was a symbol of Solomon Adeyemi’s wealth—a man whose name carried power in boardrooms and government corridors alike. Inside, however, the walls whispered a different story.
It was Sunday evening, a time reserved for the weekly family dinner—a tradition meant to keep the household in harmony. But in reality, it was a battleground.
Adanna, the first wife, sat at the head of the grand dining table, her posture stiff and commanding. At forty-two, she was still breathtaking—tall, elegant, with flawless brown skin that seemed untouched by time. She had been Solomon’s partner in building the empire from scratch, and she wore that history like armor.
Across from her, Teni, the second wife, adjusted her diamond bracelet, her face a mask of controlled irritation. She was thirty-six, curvy, and effortlessly stylish. Once the favorite, she had enjoyed years of lavish gifts and attention—until Yasmin arrived.
Yasmin, the youngest and most unpredictable, sat at Solomon’s right hand. Twenty-seven, sharp-eyed, and ambitious, she had secured her place in the family through charm and strategy. Unlike the others, she hadn’t married for history or security—she had married for the power that came with being Solomon’s wife.
As the maids moved swiftly, setting down plates of grilled lobster, jollof rice, and expensive champagne, the tension at the table was thick. The only thing missing was the king himself.
“Where is my husband?” Adanna’s voice was measured, but there was an edge to it. She had been his wife for two decades—she didn’t chase after him like the others. He was supposed to come to her.
Yasmin smirked, sipping her champagne slowly before answering. “He had a meeting. You know, business doesn’t stop, even on Sundays.”
Teni rolled her eyes. “A meeting? Or another one of his disappearing acts?”
Adanna ignored them both and focused on her meal, but her mind raced. She knew Solomon’s patterns. And she knew when he was lying.
The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted the tension. The man of the house had arrived.
Solomon Adeyemi, in his late fifties but still exuding the energy of a man in his prime, walked in with the confidence of a ruler surveying his kingdom. He was dressed in a tailored black kaftan, gold cufflinks glinting under the chandelier lights.
“Ladies,” he greeted, flashing a charismatic smile as he took his seat.
“Solomon,” Adanna said coolly. “We were waiting for you.”
“Apologies,” he replied smoothly. “Business matters.”
Yasmin’s smirk deepened. Teni folded her arms. Adanna remained silent, her sharp eyes watching him carefully.
The dinner resumed, but the tension never left. Love, jealousy, and unspoken accusations simmered beneath the surface. In the Adeyemi household, even a meal was a silent war.
And war was just beginning.
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