Loving my Forbidden Prince

Behind the smile.

It was a little past three in the afternoon when I walked through the doors of Hidden Roses. I had gone all out with my outfit: a bright orange corset top, a tiny navy-blue denim skirt, and knee-high brown heeled boots. All of it was hidden beneath a long black leather coat that brushed my ankles. Dark sunglasses shielded my eyes, and a bold red lipstick completed the look. Honestly, it was nothing like my usual appearance. A few hours earlier I’d been in dust-covered, awful-smelling jeans. If my classmates saw me like this, they would walk right past without realising it was me. Thankfully, Hidden Roses was in charge of our wardrobe, which really suited me, because there's no way I was spending hundreds of dollars on designer clothes.

“Afternoon, Ingrid,” a cheerful voice called out to me. I turned towards the sound, and it was Julia, the receptionist. She flashed me her usual warm smile.

“Hey,” I said as I approached her desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good. And you’re right on schedule,” she replied with an excited little wink.

I was still a newbie, only six months in, and an antisocial one at that. But for some reason, about three months ago, Julia shifted from barely noticing me to making an undeniable effort to befriend me. It seemed as if she knew who I had really gone out with that night. It creeped me out, but I played along, enjoying the perks that came with it. Afterall, to my utmost surprise, she was Nigerian, and she was absolutely hilarious. They say keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

“What’s the new gossip?” I asked.

“It's Nina,”

I raised a brow. “Nina?”

“Mm-hmm. Apparently, she fell asleep during the executive briefing this morning.”

My jaw actually dropped, and I almost burst out laughing. Nina of all people? The woman was a perfectionist down to her bones. Before I could say anything, Julia held up a finger.

“Wait, that’s not even the funniest part,” she whispered, grinning. “She snored. Very loudly. Like the outdated generators in my country wey no get silencer,”

That did me in. I slapped a hand over my mouth as I started laughing, aware of the side-eyes we were getting from my fellow employees and guests. Nina was my friend, but damn, Julia was crazy with words when she wanted to be.

“That's very unlike Nina,” I whispered back, shaking my head.

“Of course,” Julia continued, clearly delighted but trying to stay professional. “That's why you don't mess with the HR department. You remember her catfight with Ms Debbie over that wardrobe mix-up?”

“Yes?” I blinked rapidly. “But that was over a month ago. And it was Ms Debbie's fault. Nina’s date would've been ruined,”

“Well…” Julia leaned closer, lowering her voice again. “Apparently, Ms Debbie didn’t take the embarrassment lightly. She slipped some instant sleeping pills into Nina’s coffee. Revenge served in à la mode.”

My eyes flew wide. “What? That’s terrible, how do you even know that?”

“I know everything, sweetie,” She replied heartily. “Since this happened, Nina’s been called ‘Ms. Power sleeper’. But pleaseeee….” She lifted her palms up dramatically in typical Nigerian fashion. “You did not hear it from me.”

“My lips are sealed,” I responded, mimicking a zip-up sign with my hands across my mouth. Suddenly she glanced around cautiously, then leaned closer again, her smile dimming just enough for me to notice it.

“Two people came here asking questions about you, especially about that night three months ago. Just…be careful.”

I froze, my breath catching for a second.

“Questions? When was this?” I kept my tone casual, but at that moment, a cold, prickly chill slid down my spine.

“Two nights ago,” she said, still wearing that wide, fake smile of hers as she shuffled papers and picked up a stamp just to look busy. “And Ingrid… it's not small talk. what I heard were the kind of questions people ask only when someone important is involved.”

I was stunned, and my heart thundered in my chest. Her eyes lifted up to meet mine, and I realised that behind that fake smile, she was dead serious.

“I know who you were with that night,” she added softly. “And I'm giving you a free warning as a friend. These people have no limits,”

“Does the CEO know about this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

She opened her mouth to answer—

“There you areeeeee,” the shrill voice of my personal manager rang out, interrupting the tense conversation between us.