The CEO'S Contract Wife

continuation

CHAPTER 6: THE TRUTH

2pm. Obi Holdings Boardroom. 40th floor.

Glass walls. Cold air. Colder stares.

Ngozi sat beside Chike in a navy dress. His hand was on her lower back.

For the cameras. For the board.

"Mr. Obi," the chairman said. "The video is... concerning. Is this marriage legitimate, or a publicity stunt?"

Chike squeezed Ngozi’s hand under the table.

"It’s real," he said, voice steady. "We’re very much married."

The board murmured.

Ngozi smiled. Contract rule 1: Appear together.

After the meeting, Chike dragged her to his private office. Locked the door.

"You did good," he said.

"Don’t." Ngozi stepped back. "Don’t act like you care now."

She walked to his bookshelf. Angry. Tired.

Her hand knocked a book. Behind it, a small wooden box fell out.

Inside: Photos.

Old photos.

A young Chike, maybe 10, standing beside an old man in a hospital bed.

And a document. Dated 3 months ago.

*LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF CHIEF EMMANUEL OBI*

Ngozi read the highlighted line out loud:

`"...my grandson Chike Obi shall inherit 60% of Obi Holdings, on the condition that he is legally married for a minimum of 1 year. If unmarried, the shares go to my daughter, Ada Obi."`

Ada Obi. Chike’s aunt.

The same woman who’s been trying to take over the company for years.

Ngozi looked up. "So that’s it? It’s not about reputation. It’s about money."

Chike didn’t deny it.

"My grandfather was sick. He didn’t trust my aunt. He thought marriage would ‘settle me’."

"And you picked me because my father was desperate," Ngozi finished. "Cheap. Easy. No love required."

"That’s not—"

"Save it!" Her voice cracked. "I signed because I had no choice. But I didn’t think you were this cold."

Silence.

Only the hum of the AC.

Chike walked to the window. "My grandfather raised me. After my parents died. He was the only one who... yeah."

He turned. "When he said ‘get married’, I saw your father’s company drowning in debt. It was a solution for both of us."

"A transaction," Ngozi said.

"Yes," Chike admitted. "At first."

Ngozi’s chest hurt. Because last night, under that gazebo, it didn’t feel like a transaction.

"So what now?" she asked. "We finish the year, you get your shares, I get 1 billion for my dad, and we divorce?"

Chike stared at her.

"Is that what you want?"

Ngozi didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

She left the office with the photo in her hand.

That night, she didn’t sleep in the guest room.

She slept on the couch in the living room.

And Chike didn’t knock on her door during the storm.

CHAPTER 7: THE COLD WAR

Day 1.

Breakfast: Silent. Chike ate, left.

Ngozi ate, left.

Staff whispered.

Day 3.

They passed each other in the hallway.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," she replied.

That was it.

Day 5.

Tola tried to talk to Ngozi. "Are you guys fighting?"

"Why would you think that?" Ngozi smiled. "We’re married."

The house felt bigger. And emptier.

Chike threw himself into work. 14-hour days.

Ngozi threw herself into design. Freelance clients, 2am.

Rule 1: Appear together.

So they did. For meetings. For family dinner on Sunday.

Perfect smiles. Perfect distance.

But at night...

Ngozi would hear him in his office. Pacing.

Chike would see her light on under the guest room door. Still awake.

*The Breaking Point - Day 7*

Rain again. Lagos weather was obsessed.

Ngozi was in the kitchen making tea when the power cut.

Footsteps.

Chike. He stopped in the doorway.

"You’re still up," he said.

"So are you," she replied. Didn’t look at him.

He walked to the counter. Poured water.

"The board approved the merger," he said quietly. "Because of us. Because we looked... real."

Ngozi scoffed. "Good. One more thing for the transaction list."

"Is that all this is to you? A transaction?"

She finally turned. "Isn’t it?"

Chike set the cup down too hard. Water spilled.

"You think I wanted this? You think I enjoy coming home to a house where my wife sleeps on the couch?"

Ngozi blinked. "I’m not your wife. Not really."

"Then what are you?" His voice was low. Angry. Hurt.

"Because for one second in that garden, I thought—"

He cut himself off.

Ngozi’s heart hammered. "You thought what?"

The lights flickered back on.

Chike stared at her for 3 seconds. Then he grabbed his keys.

"I’m going to the office. Don’t wait up."

Door slammed.

Ngozi stood in the kitchen, tea going cold.

The cold war had just gotten a lot colder.