Love’s Crossroads

Chapter 1

Tracy’s POV

“Ouch my nose!” I winced as a sharp pain shot through my face, and my eyes instantly welled up with tears. What the hell did I bump into?

Since when do we have a wall at the kitchen entrance?

Then I heard it—a deep, velvety voice laced with an unmistakable authority. A man’s voice.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there”

I froze. My pulse spiked. That voice didn’t belong to Mrs. Regina, chef Ada, or even Nana. As far as I knew they were the only other people in this house. I clearly remembered locking up after everyone before going to bed. So who…?

Snapping my head up, I staggered back, my heart hammering against my ribs. Standing before me, clad in an expensive suit, was a man. But not just any man.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Devastatingly handsome.

Even in the dimly lit kitchen, his chiseled features were impossible to ignore—the sharp jawline, his beautiful hair twists, the piercing beautiful brown eyes that locked onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. His skin, a smooth deep brown, even with the suit I could tell he had the kind of physique that belonged on the cover of a high end magazine.

But it wasn’t just his looks that unnerved me. It was the aura around him—powerful,

Commanding, and laced with an air of danger. He exuded wealth in a way that wasn’t just about money; it was about influence, a silent promise that he was a man used to getting what he wanted.

Who the hell was he and why was he in here?

“Excuse me, who are you, and what are you doing in here? How did you even get in?” I demanded taking a cautious step back.

He raised a perfectly arched brow, his expression blank yet somehow arrogant. “This is my house. I should be the one asking who you are.”

Then it clicked.

Oh my God.

Mrs Regina’s son.

She had mentioned—briefly—that her son was returning from the States, but I never expected it to be so soon. Or for him to look like… this.

Embarrassment flooded my system as I scrambled to retrace my words. “I’m sor—“

But before I could even finish my apology, he brushed past me and disappeared down the hall, leaving behind the scent of his expensive cologne and my own racing thoughts.

Did I say anything wrong? I mean I didn’t know who he was. He could have been a criminal for all I knew. I was only trying to protect the house.

Then again, if he was a criminal, he would’ve hurt me. Or worse. And what did I do? I stood there questioning him instead of running. That was dumb. Really dumb.

With a deep sigh, I grabbed the glass of water I originally came for and trudge back to bed.

The weekend came, marking a full week since Mr Richard—as everyone referred to him— returned home. I had been doing everything in my power to avoid him, but unfortunately, Mrs Regina made that impossible. She adored her son, and after a year of only seeing him through video calls, she wanted to be around him as much as possible. And since I was always by her side, avoiding him was out of the question.

But I wished I could.

Mr Richard was intimidating.

Not just because he was a multi-billionaire who had built an empire from the ground up—his name was synonymous with power, and his influence stretched far beyond Nigeria—but because of the way he looked at me.

His stares were piercing, as if he could see through me, into my thoughts.

And the worst part? He never looks pleased.

It was always the same—those cold, calculating eyes watching me with what I could only describe as irritation, like I was an unwanted guest in his home.

“What crawled up his butt and died” I muttered under my breath after one of his infamous death stares.

Even with his grumpy, nonchalant attitude, there was no denying that Mr. Richard was a dangerously attractive man. The kind of man who made women weak in the knees with just one look. And the fact that he was ridiculously wealthy only made him even more unattainable.

Too bad he seemed permanently moody.

And for some reason, I seemed to be the target of his irritation.

But why?