Poor Cleaner Had A One Night Stand With A Drunk CEO, Then This Happened

…

He glanced at her.

Just one glance, but it made a beanie’s stomach tighten.

“What is it?” he asked.

His voice was calm, but it was not warm.

It was the kind of calm that warned you not to try nonsense.

Aini walked to the side table and placed the towels down neatly.

Sir, I’m here to bring you fresh towels.

He didn’t say thank you.

He didn’t even look at the towels.

His eyes stayed on her like he was trying to remember where he had seen her before.

A beanie kept her gaze low.

If that’s all, sir, I’ll be going.

She turned toward the door.

That was when Gideon moved.

He didn’t rush.

He didn’t grab her violently, but he stepped in front of her so smoothly that a beanie stopped short.

Her breath caught.

The door was right behind him, and now she couldn’t reach it without going through him.

“Wait,” he said.

A beanie’s fingers tightened around the edge of her apron.

“Sir, please let me go.

” Gideon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Why are you shaking?” I’m not shaking, sir,” she lied quickly.

He stared at her for a moment, then spoke again, slower.

“Are you one of those people who come into rooms like this, hoping to walk out with something?” Abini blinked.

Confusion flashed across her face before fear returned.

“No, sir.

” Gideon leaned closer, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel his presence like heat.

“Then why are you here so late?” Because I was told to bring towels,” she said, her voice softer than she wanted.

“That’s my job.

” His gaze dropped briefly to her face, then to her lips, then back to her eyes.

Abini’s throat went dry.

She took a careful step back, but the door was still blocked.

Her mind started running fast, like it always did when danger came close.

She had seen how men could change when they had power.

She had watched people like her get blamed for things they didn’t plan.

She had no father, no brother, no one that could walk in and defend her.

If she made one wrong move now, her whole life could scatter again.

“Sir,” she said, forcing steadiness into her voice.

“I’m begging you.

Please let me go.

” Gideon watched her.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes.

Something like annoyance, something like curiosity, something like he didn’t know what to do with the fear in front of him.

Then he exhaled through his nose as if tired.

“You want to leave?” he said.

“Yes, sir.

” “Fine,” he didn’t move.

“But tell me something first.

” Abini’s heart thudded.

“Sir, what do you want?” he asked.

“Name your price.

” The words landed like a slap.

Aini stared at him, shocked.

“Sir, I don’t understand.

” Gideon’s voice stayed flat.

Stop acting like you don’t.

If you want something, say it.

Abini’s mouth opened, then closed.

For a second, Pride tried to rise in her chest.

Pride tried to remind her that she was not that kind of girl.

That she had struggled too hard to reduce herself to this moment.

But Pride did not pay hospital bills.

Pride will not bury her mother.

Pride will not stop the landlord from throwing her out when rent is due.

A beanie swallowed hard.

Her eyes stung, but she refused to let tears fall.

Sir, she said quietly.

I really need money.

Gideon’s expression did not change.

How much? Abini hesitated.

In her head, she saw her mother’s face.

The last week, the weak breathing, the way her mother’s hands had felt so light, like they were already leaving the world, the way a beanie had promised with a trembling smile that she would give her a proper burial, that she would not let her be treated like she meant nothing.

Her chest tightened.

She lifted her eyes fully for the first time and looked at Gideon directly.

“I need 600,000,” she said.

Gideon’s brows lifted slightly, like he wasn’t expecting her to be bold.

Abini’s voice shook, but she did not look away.

“600,000.

” There was silence.

Aini felt it immediately, the shame, the fear, the disbelief.

A part of her wanted to run out of the room and never come back.

Another part of her wanted to fall to the floor and scream until her throat broke.

She whispered as if speaking to herself more than him.

I have never done this before, but I don’t have a choice.

Gideon’s eyes stayed on her face, searching.

Abini forced the words out properly this time, her voice clearer.

Sir, don’t worry.

I definitely won’t cling to you.

I’m not trying to trap you.

I just I need the money urgently.

Gideon’s jaw tightened.

What for? Abini didn’t want to answer.

Saying it out loud made it too real.

But she answered anyway.

My mother is gone, she said.

I need to settle her burial.

Something shifted in the room.

Not softness.

Gideon didn’t suddenly become gentle, but the air changed like the story in her mouth had entered the space and refused to be ignored.

Gideon looked away briefly, then back.

You have a bank account? Abini nodded quickly.

Yes, say the details.

Abini hesitated again.

Giving her account details to this man felt like stepping into water she couldn’t measure.

But she said it.

He took his phone, tapped once, tapped twice, as if he had done this a thousand times, and money meant nothing more than a number.

You’ll get it, he said.

Abini’s lips parted.

Just like that.

Gideon’s gaze returned to her, cold and sharp again.

Do you want it or not? I do, she said quickly.

He stepped closer.

Habini’s breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t only fear.

It was something confusing, something that made her angry with herself.

Gideon’s eyes stayed on her face and his voice dropped lower.

Look at me, he said.

Abini didn’t understand why her body obeyed.

She lifted her eyes.

For a long moment, Gideon simply stared at her at the tiredness in her gaze.

At the quiet stubbornness, at the beauty that didn’t ask for permission.

Then he spoke very softly.

“Are you sure?” Abini’s throat tightened.

She could have said no.

She should have said no.

She should have walked away and found another way, even if it took months.

But she was tired of months.

She was tired of begging.

She was tired of watching life win every time.

Abini nodded once.

Gideon’s hand came up and cuped the side of her face, firm, but not rough.

Abini trembled.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t slow.

It was sharp and hungry, like something he had been holding back.

A beanie froze for one heartbeat.

Then, as if the last part of her resistance cracked, she kissed him back urgently, desperately, like she was trying to drown her fear in something else.

The room disappeared.

Everything became breath and warmth and the soft rustle of fabric and the heavy silence of choices being made too fast.

Abini didn’t remember when they moved away from the door.

She didn’t remember when the lights felt dimmer.

She only remembered the strange ache in her chest, how her heart felt like it was crying even while her body answered him.

Later, much later, the night settled into stillness, and a beanie lay awake for a while, staring into the dark, feeling the weight of what she had done.

She pressed her lips together.

She told herself the only thing she could.

This is the only way.

Morning came quietly without apology.

Abini woke with a start, confused by the softness beneath her and the expensive scent around her.

She sat up and realized she was in Gideon Okoro’s bed.

Her body felt heavy.

Her mouth felt dry.

She pulled the sheet tighter around herself, shame rising like heat.

Then she heard his voice.

Drink this.

Abini turned sharply.

Gideon stood across the room already dressed, looking like he had never slept at all.

Crisp shirt, perfect trousers, composed face, same cold eyes.

On the table beside him was a glass of water and a small pack of tablets.

A beanie swallowed.

Sir, take it, he said as if he were giving an order to a staff meeting.

A beanie stared at the tablets.

What is it? Medicine, Gideon answered.

No explanation, no comfort, only that same practical tone.

Habini’s mind ran fast.

Medicine for what? For last night.

So he won’t have problems.

So I won’t.

Her cheeks burnt.

She reached out slowly, took the tablet pack, and hesitated.

Gideon’s gaze sharpened.

Do you want trouble? A beanie quickly shook her head.

No, sir.

Then take it.

She pushed the tablets into her mouth and swallowed with water, trying not to think too much.

Gideon picked up his phone again.

Your account details.

Say it again.

I already told you.

Say it again.

He repeated.

Abini’s fingers tightened on the glass.

She repeated her bank name and account number.

Voice small.

He tapped on his phone.

You’ll receive the transfer.

Aini’s heart squeezed.

Part relief, part humiliation, part fear.

Gideon’s eyes lifted to her.

And listen, Abini held still, his voice lowered, sharp with warning.

“Don’t mistake this for anything else.

” Abini nodded quickly.

“I understand, sir.

I don’t like noise,” Gideon added.

“I don’t like people who cling.

” Abini forced the words out steady.

“I won’t cling to you.

I really needed the money, that’s all.

” He watched her for a moment like he was deciding whether to believe her.

Then he stepped aside from the door.

Abini slid out of bed, pulled her uniform back on with shaking hands, and kept her face blank as she could.

She didn’t look at him again.

She walked out of the room quietly as if she had never entered.

As the door closed behind her, Abini leaned on the wall for one brief second, breathing hard.

Her chest hurt.

Her eyes burned, but she did not cry.

Not here.

Not in this building.

She straightened, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and whispered the words again because she needed them to hold her together.

This is the way.

A beanie did not go far after she left that room.

She walked down the corridor like her legs belonged to someone else.

When she reached the corner where the security camera could not see her face clearly, she finally stopped.

Her hands were shaking, so she pressed them against her thighs until they steadied.

By the time she got outside, morning had fully arrived.

The sky was pale, tired looking, like it also had not slept.

A beanie sat on a low concrete edge near the staff entrance, brought out her small phone, and stared at it for a long time before she turned it on.

A bank alert popped up almost immediately.

Sex Hundred Tusen.

The sender’s name sat there without emotion, like it was normal.

Gideon Okoro.

Habini’s stomach tightened.

Relief came first sharp and quick.

Then shame followed it slow and hot.

After that came something she could not name.

Something like anger at life for cornering her this way.

She closed her eyes and breathed in.

This money is not for me.

She reminded herself.

It is for my mother.

That thought was the only thing that helped her stand up and move.

Her mother was already gone.

Not gone like people said when they were avoiding the truth.

Gone the real way.

The way that left silence behind.

The way that left bills.

The way that made people suddenly start calling you sorry, even when they had never helped you while the person was alive.

Her mother had been sick for months.

One sickness that became another.

One hospital visit that became another.

A beanie had done everything she could, but everything had still not been enough.

Abini had finished school.

She was a graduate.

She had sent out applications until her fingers hurt.

She had attended interviews that led nowhere.

She had watched less qualified people get jobs because they had connections.

And while she waited for her own chance, her mother’s health kept getting worse.

So, Abini swallowed her pride and took the cleaner job at Silver Crest Group.

Not because she loved cleaning floors, because sickness did not wait for job offers, because hospital bills did not respect certificates, because hunger did not care about dignity.

She told herself it was temporary, just something she would do until an opening came.

until someone finally saw her value.

But before any opening came, her mother died and a beanie was left with one last responsibility.

She could not run away from a proper burial.

A burial plot, a payment she did not have.

That was why she had needed 600,000.

That same morning, Gideon Okoro sat behind his office desk like nothing had happened.

His face was calm, his shirt was perfect, his hair was neat, his eyes were sharp in a way that made people careful.

Only his assistant, Ka Duru, dared to speak freely around him.

Kola was in his early 30s, clean-cut, always holding a tablet like it was part of his body.

He had worked with Gideon long enough to understand his moods without asking questions.

He cleared his throat.

Sir, Cola said, “The young woman from the Arkinwell family has gathered the 600,000 for the burial plot.

” Gideon did not look up.

“So Ka hesitated carefully.

She chose a spot in our family burial grounds, the corner section.

It won’t disturb anything.

” Gideon finally lifted his eyes.

His expression did not change, but something cold passed through them.

“That space is available,” he said.

“Let her buy it.

” Cola nodded quickly, relieved.

Thank you, sir.

Then Cola added, “Also, today is the Memorial Day for your late grandfather.

The family has already confirmed they’ll be there early.

” Gideon’s jaw tightened slightly, as if the reminder pressed on something he didn’t like to touch.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

Colola nodded again.

“Yes, sir.

” And that was that.

Just business.

When Abini arrived at the burial grounds later that day, she was not prepared for what she saw.

She had come with her documents and the payment confirmation, her head full of only one thing.

Let me settle this burial.

She stepped through the gate and saw black cars lined neatly like soldiers.

She saw people dressed in dark clothes.

She saw a quiet gathering near an older grave that looked wellkept and important.

Then she saw Gideon Okoro.

He stood among them like he belonged in every picture.

Tall, handsome, unbothered.

His expression was controlled, his shoulders straight, like grief could not bend him.

Abini’s heart dropped.

For a second, she wondered if she had come to the wrong place.

But she hadn’t.

This was the Okoro family’s private burial grounds, and she was here to buy a plot.

Her plot with the money that had come from Gideon Okoro.

Abini’s fingers tightened around her folder.

The truth hit her fully then, painful and clear.

The money she had struggled for, the money she had shamed herself to collect, had ended up back in his pocket.

Not because he demanded it, but because even death had led her back under his power.

A beanie swallowed, her throat burned.

A staff member approached her politely.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.

Are you Miss Akin Whale?” Abini nodded once.

Please follow me,” the man said gently.

“We’ll complete the contract.

” As she followed him, she kept her eyes forward, but she could feel Gideon’s gaze on her.

She could feel it like a hand.

When she reached the small table set aside for paperwork, she sighed with steady fingers that did not match how she felt inside.

Then the staff member said, “Full name, please.

” Abini answered quietly, “Aini.

” Abini Renee Akin.

The staff member wrote it down and repeated it in a clear voice as if confirming for the record.

Abini Renee Akinhale.

That was when Gideon’s head turned sharply.

His eyes met hers across the space.

And for the first time, he didn’t just see the cleaner.

He saw a name.

Abini’s stomach twisted.

She looked away immediately.

She was not here to be noticed.

She was here to bury her mother.

The burial itself was simple, but it broke her anyway.

There was no crowd of important people, no long speeches, no proud family lines standing behind her, only a beanie, a few sympathetic faces, and the quiet weight of the earth waiting to close over the woman who had been her whole world.

When the final prayers were said, and the last shovel of sand was poured, Abinie stood there as if she could still argue with reality.

Then she fell to her knees.

The tears came fast, hot, and uncontrollable.

Not the neat kind that stayed in the eyes.

The kind that shook her shoulders.

The kind that made her chest hurt.

“Mommy,” she whispered like her mother could still answer.

People tried to lift her.

Someone touched her back gently.

Someone told her to be strong, but a beanie could not be strong in that moment.

She had been strong for too long.

So, she cried until her throat went sore and her eyes swelled.

because grief does not accept timetable.

When she finally stood up, her face was wet and her heart felt empty.

She wiped her cheeks with the edge of her scarf and told herself, “Now I can start again, even if she didn’t know how.

” She had barely taken a few steps away from the grave when her phone rang.

The screen showed an unfamiliar number.

Her beanie almost ignored it, but something in her pushed her to answer.

“Hello,” she said, her voice.

Good afternoon, a woman said politely.

Is this Miss Aken Whale? Yes, this is Silverest Group HR.

We received your application earlier and we would like to invite you for an interview.

Abini stopped walking.

For a moment, she thought grief was playing tricks on her ears.

Interview? She repeated.

Yes.

The HR officer confirmed.

When would you be available? Aini’s mouth opened slightly.

Her fingers trembled around the phone.

She had only taken the cleaner job because she was desperate, because she needed to keep her mother alive, because she was waiting for something better.

Now her mother was gone.

And this call, this good news was landing right in the middle of her worst day.

Habini swallowed hard.

I’m I’m available anytime, she said.

All right, the woman replied.

I’ll send the details to your email.

Please check and confirm.

Okay.

Abini whispered.

Thank you.

When the call ended, she stared at her phone for a long time.

A small fragile hope rose in her chest.

Once she settled this burial.

Once she survived this pain.

Maybe she could finally start over.

Maybe.

It started raining not long after.

At first, it was light, like soft tapping on leaves.

Then it became heavy, sudden, angry.

A beanie stood under a small shelter by the roadside.

Her shoulders hunched, her folder pressed to her chest to protect the papers.

She watched buses splashed through puddles.

She waited for one that wouldn’t be too full, one that wouldn’t force her to stand in the rain.

Her eyelashes were still wet, not only from rain.

Then she heard a car slow down.

A beanie turned and saw a dark, expensive vehicle pulling up beside the shelter.

The window rolled down.

Gideon Okoro’s face appeared calm and unreadable.

“Get in,” he said.

Abini blinked, stunned.

“Sir,” he glanced at the rain as if it offended him.

“In this weather, you want to wait outside?” Abini hesitated.

Pride told her to refuse.

Her body told her she was already cold.

“I can wait,” she said weakly.

Gideon’s eyes hardened.

I said, “Get in.

” The driver, an older man with a stiff posture, stepped out quickly and opened the back door.

A beanie stood there torn.

Then she moved.

She entered the car quietly and sat as far from Gideon as possible.

The door shut, sealing her into warmth and silence.

The car moved.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Gideon looked ahead.

A beanie stared out the window, watching rain streak down the glass like thin lines of sorrow.

Then Gideon reached into the side compartment and brought out a clean handkerchief.

He turned to her without asking and wiped her cheek.

A beanie flinched, not because the cloth hurt, because the gesture felt too intimate, too personal, too much, especially coming from him.

His hand paused.

He looked at her like she had misbehaved.

“Stay still,” he said, his tone sharp.

Aini’s heart jumped.

“Sir, I’m fine.

” Gideon wiped again, slower, like he was annoyed by how stubborn she was.

His fingers brushed her skin, and Abini’s breath caught.

Her body reacted without permission.

She shifted away, trying to create distance.

In the movement, the edge of the water bottle in the cup holder tipped.

Water spilled slightly.

Not a lot, just enough to splash.

Gideon’s gaze dropped to it, then lifted back to her face.

The air in the car changed instantly.

His voice turned colder.

You’re always acting like you’re being attacked.

A beanie swallowed.

I wasn’t.

Whatever, Gideon cut in.

He leaned back and looked at her like she was a problem he was trying to solve.

Then he said casually as if he was talking about buying a chair.

1 million 1 month.

Aini’s body went still.

Sir, what? 1 million for 1 month? Gideon repeated.

You clearly need money.

Stop pretending you don’t.

Abini stared at him.

For a second, the old desperation tried to rise again.

The part of her that knew how it felt to be helpless, but another part of her stood up.

Quietly, firmly.

Abini’s eyes narrowed and her voice came out steady.

“Mr. Okoro,” she said, “don’t think having money makes you superior.

Don’t think you can trample on people’s dignity because you have power.

” Gideon’s jaw tightened.

Abini continued, her voice shaking only a little.

You can’t buy control over me.

You can’t turn human beings into transactions and still think you are right.

The driver kept his eyes on the road, pretending he could not hear anything.

Abini leaned forward slightly.

Driver, please stop the car.

Gideon’s head turned sharply.

What? Stop.

Aini repeated louder this time.

I want to get down.

The driver slowed, unsure.

Gideon stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she was choosing rain over his car.

Habini reached for the door handle.

Her fingers were steady.

The car stopped.

Abini opened the door and stepped out into the rain.

The cold hit her immediately, but she didn’t care.

She shut the door without looking back and walked away, her clothes getting wet again, her shoes splashing through puddles.

Inside the car, Gideon didn’t speak.

He only watched her through the glass as she disappeared into the rain.

And for the first time in a long time, something close to surprise settled in his eyes.

He exhaled slowly and said under his breath, almost annoyed by his own interest.

This girl is really something.

A beanie walked through the rain like she was walking out of shame.

Her clothes clung to her skin.

Her hair was damp.

Her chest felt tight, but she kept moving step by step until Gideon Okoro and his expensive car were far behind her.

She did not know why she was shaking.

Anger, humiliation, grief, or all of it together.

All she knew was that she had finally said what she had been holding inside.

Money doesn’t make you human.

That night, she barely slept.

Her body was tired, but her mind refused to rest.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face.

Cold, handsome, unmoved.

And then she saw her mother’s grave again.

By morning, her eyes were swollen.

But the world didn’t care.

Life still demanded she stand up.

The next day, Abini dressed like she was going to fight for her future.

Not with noise, not with pride, but with effort.

She wore a simple, fitted outfit that made her look neat and professional.

Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, smooth and clean, the kind of style that said she was serious.

She applied light makeup, nothing loud, just enough to make her look fresh and awake.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t see a poor cleaner.

She saw a graduate who had been forced to bend, but not broken.

Today, she whispered to herself, “I’ll start again.

Silver Crest Group looked different when you entered through the front.

The first time Abini came here, she came as a cleaner through the staff entrance, head down, uniform on.

But today, she walked into the main lobby.

The air smelled like perfume and expensive furniture polish.

The floors shown.

People moved like they had places to be and futures that were already arranged.

A beanie kept her shoulders straight and followed the direction HR had sent.

When she got to the office, the HR officer smiled warmly.

Congratulations, Miss Aabini, the woman said.

“You are selected.

You’ll start immediately.

” Aini almost didn’t believe it.

Her breath caught.

“Thank you,” she said quickly.

“Thank you so much.

” The woman nodded.

“Work hard and you’ll do well here.

” A beanie nodded too, her eyes stinging slightly.

“I will.

I promise.

” She meant it with everything in her chest.

A few hours later, she was led to a training room with other new employees.

Hubini sat quietly listening, taking notes.

She didn’t want anyone to say she did not deserve her seat.

As she was arranging her notebook, she heard a voice behind her.

A beanie? She turned.

A man stood there smiling like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He was tall, well-dressed, and confident in a way that came from comfort.

His face was familiar.

Clean features, bright eyes, the kind of smile that made people relax.

“Fei Adami,” he said, laughing softly.

“You don’t remember me?” Abini blinked.

Then it hit her.

“Fei?” she said slowly.

“Femi from school.

” “Yes,” he said genuinely excited.

“Ah, so it’s you.

I’m shocked.

” A beanie managed a small smile.

“It’s been a long time.

” Femi pulled a chair beside her without asking.

“You got in? That’s good.

Welcome.

If you want, I can show you around later so you don’t get lost.

” Abini hesitated, but his friendliness felt safe.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’ll appreciate that.

” Femi leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret.

“Just know one thing,” he said.

“The CEO rarely attends training.

He’s always moving around, but new employees must attend.

No excuse.

” A beanie nodded.

Okay.

Then someone behind them spoke, whispering to another person, and the name entered the air casually like it was ordinary.

Boss Okoro.

Abini’s pen paused.

Her heart paused, too.

She slowly turned to Femi.

Did you say Okoro? Femi nodded.

Yes, Gideon.

Okoro.

That’s the CEO.

For a second, Abini felt like the room tilted.

The sounds around her became distant, like someone had covered her ears with cotton.

Gideon or Cororo? Her mind dragged her back.

Private room, blocked door, the money, the medicine, the rain, the offer.

Her mouth went dry.

She swallowed hard and whispered to herself so quietly nobody could hear.

I slept with the CEO, and I even slapped him.

A cold fear moved through her chest like water.

God, will he destroy me? The training session hadn’t even finished before the office started smelling blood.

People noticed her.

Noticed her too much.

They looked at her the way people looked at a rumor before it became a headline.

In the hallway outside, as a beanie waited for her department assignment, she heard two women talking loud enough for her to hear.

That’s her, one said.

That cleaner girl.

I heard she used to be a cleaner here, another replied with disgust.

And now she’s suddenly an employee.

How? Please, we know how.

The first one hissed.

Some people know how to climb faster than an elevator.

A beanie’s cheeks burned, but she kept walking.

Then it got worse.

A woman stepped forward and blocked her path.

She was slim, sharpfaced, wearing a fitted corporate dress like she was born inside an office.

Her lipstick was bold, and her eyes were the kind that enjoyed humiliation.

Abini later learned her name, Lydia Ez.

Behind Lydia were two other women who looked eager like they had been waiting for drama.

Lydia looked a beanie up and down slowly.

So it’s true, she said.

They really brought you inside.

A beanie tried to stay calm.

Excuse me, please.

I have to Lydia laughed.

You You have to what? You’re a cleaner.

The cleaning room is where you belong.

Abini’s fingers tightened around her file.

I’m an employee now.

Lydia scoffed.

Employee K.

Do you even have the qualification to be here? Or you think sleeping your way into places is work? The other women giggled.

Abini’s throat tightened.

Her chest rose and fell once slowly.

“I’m qualified,” she said, her voice steady.

“And you don’t know anything about me.

” Lydia stepped closer.

“We know enough.

Poor girls like you always come with plan.

You came to seduce the CEO, Abby.

” Abini’s heart thudded hard.

She wanted to deny it loudly, to defend herself, to scream that she wasn’t proud of anything that happened.

But something inside her refused to beg.

So she said, calm and firm.

Please move.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed.

Or what? A shadow fell across the group.

A silence dropped suddenly, like someone switched off the air.

A beanie turned.

Gideon Okoro had walked into the hallway.

He was in a dark suit, looking sharp and untouched by ordinary stress.

His face was calm, but his eyes were dangerous.

People moved aside instinctively.

Even Lydia’s confidence shifted.

Boss cheat.

Lydia started quickly changing her tone to sweet.

Good morning, sir.

I was just telling her.

Gideon didn’t even look at her properly.

He looked at a beanie first, just once.

Then he faced Lydia and the others.

His voice was low, cold, simple.

If you’re done, he said, “Get out.

” The hallway froze.

Lydia blinked.

“Sir.

” Gideon’s eyes hardened.

“Did you not hear me?” No one breathed.

Lydia’s lips parted, but no words came out.

The other women stepped back quickly, suddenly remembering they had work.

Abini stood still, confused, almost dizzy.

Gideon Okoro, this same man, had just defended her.

Not kindly, not gently, but clearly.

Lydia forced a stiff smile.

Yes, sir.

We’re leaving.

They scattered.

Abini remained where she was, her heart beating too fast.

Gideon’s gaze flicked her again, quick and unreadable.

Then he walked away like nothing happened.

Aini stared after him.

Why is he protecting me? Later that day, Abini was settling into her assigned desk when a man approached her.

He looked official.

Clean haircut, neatly tucked shirt, ID card hanging from his neck.

“New staff?” he asked.

“Yes,” Abini replied politely.

He nodded.

“I’m Koladuru, the CEO’s executive assistant.

” Abini’s stomach tightened immediately.

Cola continued like he was announcing a rule.

First day requirement, you must add the CEO on WhatsApp.

Abini blinked.

Sorry.

Cola smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

It’s a rule.

All staff in this department must add him.

Abini opened her handbook slowly, flipping through the pages as if she was searching for something she already knew wasn’t there.

After a moment, she looked up.

It’s not in the handbook, she said calmly.

There’s no such rule here.

Cola’s smile tightened.

Are you challenging me? A beanie met his eyes.

I’m only saying what is written.

Before Cola could respond, a voice came from behind.

Carry on.

A beanie turned.

Gideon was standing there, hands in his pockets, face unreadable.

Cola stiffened.

Boss, I was just Gideon’s gaze cut through him.

If it’s not in the handbook, don’t invent it.

Cola swallowed.

Yes, sir.

Gideon looked at a beanie.

Do your work.

Then he walked away again.

A beanie sat slowly, her heart pounding.

It wasn’t just protection.

It was like he was warning people not to touch her.

And she didn’t know if that was good or terrifying.

Midday, Abini stood up from her desk to handle a quick errand HR had assigned, collecting her pre-employment medical report from the hospital.

Her body had been feeling strange since morning.

A mild dizziness, a heaviness in her chest, a discomfort that came and went.

She tried to ignore it, but one thing kept whispering at the back of her mind.

My period is 15 days late.

She did not say it out loud.

She didn’t even want to hear her own thoughts.

At the entrance downstairs, she ran into Fei.

You’re leaving? He asked.

“Yes,” Abini said.

“Just to pick something.

” “I can go with you,” Fei offered quickly.

“Let me accompany you.

” Abini’s stomach tightened.

No, she said a bit too fast, then softened her tone.

Thank you.

But I can manage.

It’s private.

Femi paused, then nodded gently.

Okay, no problem.

As Abini turned to leave, she felt a presence again.

Lydia, running to hospital, Lydia said, leaning close with false concern.

Hope you’re not hiding something.

Aini’s jaw tightened.

Move.

Lydia smiled slow and mean.

You’re hiding something.

I can tell.

Abini didn’t answer.

She walked away, but Lydia’s eyes followed her like a promise.

At the hospital, Abini sat in a quiet waiting area, holding her file tightly.

A nurse called her name.

She entered the doctor’s office with careful steps.

The doctor was a young man in a white coat, calm-faced with kind eyes and a professional tone.

He looked like someone who had seen too much pain to be careless with people.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“I’m Dr.

Raymond Akeni.

Abini nodded politely.

Good afternoon, doctor.

He opened the report, scanned it for a moment, then looked up.

Miss Aabini, he said gently.

You are pregnant.

For a second, Abini didn’t understand the words.

Then her body reacted before her mind did.

She gripped the chair.

“No,” she whispered.

“That can’t be.

” Dr.

Raymond stayed calm.

“The report is correct.

Abini shook her head quickly.

I took birth control.

I took it.

I’m sure.

The doctor watched her carefully.

Do you still have the pack? Abini froze.

Her mind flashed to that morning.

Gideon giving her tablets and water.

Her swallowing without checking.

Her fear.

I Her voice cracked.

I don’t have it.

Dr.

Raymon’s eyes narrowed slightly and thought.

Do you know what you took? I was told it was medicine.

Abini said weakly.

Doctor.

Raymond leaned forward, voice careful.

Miss Abini, from what I’m seeing here, it’s possible you didn’t take birth control.

Aini’s throat tightened.

What do you mean? He exhaled softly.

Some pills look similar.

Some people mistake them.

Aini stared at him.

Then the truth landed slowly in her mind like a stone.

Doctor, she whispered, almost shaking.

Are you saying the pills were not birth control? Dr.

Raymond nodded.

They were vitamins.

Abini’s face twisted.

Her breath broke.

Vitamins.

Her eyes filled instantly.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until the tears dropped onto her lap.

Oh god, she whispered.

Dr.

Raymond watched her quietly, giving her space.

A beanie wiped her face roughly and looked up with red eyes.

I want to abort it, she said immediately, voice sharp with panic.

Doctor, I want to remove it.

Dr.

Raymon’s expression remained professional.

But his voice turned serious.

I need you to understand something, he said.

Abortion has risks.

Even with modern medicine, complications can happen.

In an emergency, you could become infertile for life.

Abini’s lips trembled.

The room felt too small.

Her mother was gone.

Her job was new.

Her life was already messy.

A baby now felt like a heavy stone on her chest.

“No,” she said, breathing hard.

“I can’t.

I can’t do this.

I want the abortion.

” Dr.

Raymond nodded slowly.

“If you’re sure, we can schedule it.

” Abini wiped her face again.

“When is the earliest?” “Sday afternoon,” he said.

A beanie swallowed.

“Okay.

” Dr.

Raymond printed a payment slip and handed it to her.

You’ll need to pay first, he said gently.

And come early on Sunday so you won’t cue.

Abini took the slip with shaking fingers.

Thank you, she whispered, not because she was grateful, but because her mouth needed to say something.

She stood up slowly, holding her file to her chest like a shield.

As she walked out of the hospital, her tears dried in the air, but the fear did not.

All she could think of was one name, Gideon Okoro.

It felt like he was everywhere in her life now, like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.

She held her file tight against her chest and forced her legs to keep moving.

She told herself she would not cry again.

Not here, not today.

She had already cried enough for one lifetime.

As she got close to the hospital entrance, she heard a small commotion.

An elderly woman was struggling near the steps, coughing hard into a handkerchief.

Her breathing was rough, as if something inside her chest was fighting.

The woman’s caregiver was flustered, looking around helplessly, calling for help.

Abini paused.

She should have kept walking.

Her own life was already breaking in her hands.

But the woman’s knees buckled slightly, and something in Abini’s heart refused to ignore it.

Abini rushed forward.

“Ma, please,” she said softly, steadying her.

“Take it easy.

Breathe slowly.

” The woman’s skin looked pale under her expensive scarf.

Her hands were cold.

Her eyes were sharp, though, even through the weakness.

Eyes that still carried authority.

“I’m fine,” the woman tried to insist.

But another cough cut her short.

It was the kind of cough that frightened people.

A beanie turned to the caregiver.

“Please, let’s take her back inside.

She shouldn’t be standing like this.

” Together, they guided the woman into the hospital.

Aini held her gently, slow, and careful, like she was handling something fragile.

The woman kept coughing and at one point she gripped a beanie’s wrist and whispered, “You’re kind.

” A beanie swallowed.

“I’m only doing what I would want someone to do for my mother.

” The woman’s eyes softened for a brief moment at that.

They reached the nearest nurses station.

Abini explained quickly, and the nurses moved fast, offering a chair and calling a doctor.

Aini was about to step back and leave when a familiar voice said, “What happened here?” Abini turned.

Dr.

Raymond Akini walked toward them, his white coat clean, his face calm but alert.

He looked at the elderly woman and his expression changed like he already knew her.

“Grandma Josephine,” he said respectfully.

“You shouldn’t be stressing yourself like this.

” Abini’s heart skipped at the word grandma, but she didn’t understand why yet.

The woman waved him off weekly.

I said, “I’m fine.

” Dr.

Raymond checked her breathing, asked a few questions, then turned to the caregiver and spoke clearly.

The dosage has changed, he said.

No more of the previous morning schedule.

She will take it after meals now.

Three times daily.

I’ll write it down properly.

He pulled out a small notepad and wrote calmly while the caregiver nodded and repeated the instructions back.

A beanie stood there quietly watching.

Grandma Josephine’s eyes moved to a beanie again.

She looked a beanie up and down, not with mockery, but with curiosity, like she was reading her.

“You didn’t have to stop for me,” the old woman said.

A beanie forced a small smile.

“I couldn’t just watch you struggle.

” Grandma Josephine held Abini’s hand briefly.

“Your words, the way you spoke to me, it’s rare.

” Abini’s throat tightened.

She didn’t know why, but kindness from strangers always hit her harder when she was already drowning.

“It’s okay, Ma,” she said.

“Please take care of yourself.

” Grandma Josephine nodded slowly, then suddenly coughed again, this time harder.

Her body shook with it.

For a second, she leaned forward, and a beanie instinctively moved closer.

In that hurried movement, the old woman’s elbow bumped a beanie’s shoulder.

It wasn’t a big hit.

It wasn’t violence, but a beanie had barely eaten.

She was emotionally exhausted.

Her body was already unsettled from everything she had heard inside the doctor’s office.

The small bump threw her balance and dizziness rushed to her head like a wave.

Aini’s knees softened.

Her file slipped slightly.

A beanie, the caregiver shouted.

A beanie grabbed the edge of the chair and sat quickly before she fell fully.

Her head spun.

She blinked hard.

Grandma Josephine’s eyes widened dramatically.

Ah, I’ve killed somebody’s child.

A beanie tried to speak.

Ma, it’s not.

But Grandma Josephine raised her voice like someone announcing tragedy to the whole hospital.

This is an accident.

I knocked her down.

I must take responsibility.

Abini stared at her, shocked.

Dr.

Raymond stepped closer, checked Abini’s pulse, then looked into her face.

You’re stressed.

Sit.

Breathe.

Abini breathed in slowly, trying not to faint from embarrassment.

Grandma Josephine leaned in, studying Ainie’s face.

“You see, she’s weak.

She almost collapsed.

This is my fault.

” “It’s not your fault,” Abinie whispered, still dizzy.

“I’m just tired.

” Grandma Josephine didn’t listen.

Instead, she straightened like her strength returned the moment she found a mission.

“You’re coming with me,” she said.

Aini blinked.

Ma, you helped me.

You spoke kindly to me.

Now I’ve injured you no matter how small.

I said I will take responsibility.

Abini tried to stand.

Thank you, but I’m fine.

I need to go home.

Grandma Josephine held her wrist firm.

No, you’re coming with me.

Abini looked at Dr.

Raymond helplessly.

Dr.

Raymond sighed like he had seen this kind of stubbornness before.

She won’t let it go.

He told Abini quietly.

Just be careful.

Grandma Josephine turned to her caregiver.

Call the driver and call Auntie Bi.

Tell her to prepare the house and bringing someone home.

A beanie opened her mouth to refuse again.

But the old woman had already turned it into a decision that sounded final.

And Aeenie, still dizzy, still shaken, still struggling to hold her life together, didn’t have the strength to fight an elderly woman who behaved like a queen.

So she followed.

The car was quiet at first.

Grandma Josephine sat upright, wrapped in elegance and authority, coughing softly now and then.

The caregiver sat beside her, watching her like a hawk.

A beanie sat in the back, her file pressed to her chest, feeling like she had entered a movie she didn’t audition for.

On the road, Grandma Josephine picked up her phone.

“Auntie BC,” she said, voice strong.

“Yes, I’m coming back with the girl.

” Abini’s eyes narrowed.

the girl and call Barrister Obasi.

Tell him I want those documents ready.

Abini’s stomach tightened.

Documents.

She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

When they arrived, the house was the kind that didn’t need to shout to show wealth.

It was silent, controlled, and intimidating.

Abini stepped out carefully, feeling her heart beat too fast.

Before she could ask questions, Grandma Josephine was already leading.

Inside, staff moved quickly, greeting her, taking her scarf, bringing water, acting like they had been expecting her.

Then Abini heard a male voice, deep, calm, irritated.

What is going on here? Abini turned and her heart stopped in the same place it stopped the day she learned his name.

Gideon stood in the living room, handsome in a way that looked unfair.

Tall, clean, controlled.

His face was cold, but his eyes were sharp and alive, like he missed nothing.

He looked at a beanie.

A beanie looked back.

For a second, the air between them felt heavy with everything they refused to say.

Then Gideon’s eyes shifted to his grandmother.

“Grandma,” he said.

“Why is she here?” Grandma Josephine smiled like she had brought him a gift.

“My grandson, this is the young lady I told you about.

” Gideon’s jaw tightened slightly.

What young lady? Grandma Josephine waved her hand.

The one I knocked down at the hospital.

A beanie blinked confused again.

Grandma continued dramatically.

I bumped her and she almost collapsed.

For a moment, she looked unconscious.

People were shouting.

It was terrible.

Abini wanted to correct it, but her voice got stuck.

Grandma Josephine turned to Gideon with bright eyes.

So, I must take responsibility.

Gideon stared.

responsibility for a small bump.

Grandma Josephine’s smile widened.

Yes.

Gideon exhaled.

Grandma, please.

No.

Grandma Josephine cut in.

Sit down.

Gideon didn’t sit.

Grandma Josephine’s voice became louder.

I asked questions.

I found out she’s single.

Abini’s stomach dropped.

Grandma Josephine pointed at Gideon.

And you are single, too, so I’ve decided to compensate her with you.

Abini froze.

Gideon’s face hardened like stone.

What? Grandma Josephine said it clearly, like she was discussing lunch.

She will marry you.

Abini’s mouth opened slightly.

No words came out.

Gideon stepped forward.

Grandma, are you joking? Grandma Josephine looked offended.

Do I joke with matters of responsibility? I am not marrying anyone, Gideon said sharply.

Grandma Josephine’s eyes didn’t blink.

You already have.

Silence crashed into the room.

Gideon’s voice dropped dangerously.

“What did you just say?” Grandma Josephine snapped her fingers.

Auntie Bi appeared and behind her was a man in a suit holding a brown file.

“Barister Obasi,” Grandma Josephine announced proudly.

“The contract has already been signed.

” Gideon stared at the file as if it were poison.

Aini’s throat went dry.

Grandma Josephine smiled at Abini.

On the way here, I sent people to prepare everything.

You see, a responsible family doesn’t waste time.

Gideon turned to Abini sharply, his eyes narrowed.

And in that look, Abini saw it.

Suspicion, anger, control.

He looked at her like she had entered his life with a plan, like she and his grandmother had been working together.

Later, Grandma Josephine clapped her hands and softened her tone suddenly, as if she had not just thrown a bomb into the room.

“My grandson,” she said.

“Don’t be wicked.

At least apologize properly.

Go and bring her a smoothie.

” Gideon stared.

“A smoothie?” “Yes,” Grandma Josephine said sweetly.

“Go and give it to her.

Make amends.

” Gideon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but under his grandmother’s gaze, he turned and walked away.

Abini stood awkwardly in the living room, not knowing where to put herself.

Auntie BC offered her a seat and kept smiling like this was normal.

It wasn’t.

When Gideon returned, he handed a beanie the smoothie without warmth.

“Take,” he said.

A beanie hesitated.

Her mind flashed to pills and mistakes, and the way her life kept slipping because she trusted too quickly.

She stared at the drink.

Something in her spirit warned her.

Gideon watched her face, then his eyes narrowed further as if her hesitation confirmed his thoughts.

He leaned closer, voice low.

“So, you’re acting now?” Abini looked up.

“Acting?” He scoffed.

“You and my grandmother.

You planned this.

You wanted a secure life.

Is that it?” Abini’s heart squeezed.

“I didn’t plan anything.

” Gideon’s voice sharpened.

“Then explain why you’re here.

” Abini swallowed hard.

I helped your grandmother at the hospital.

She insisted I followed her.

That’s all.

Gideon’s eyes were cold.

Liar.

Abini’s chest rose and fell.

I’m not lying.

Gideon stepped closer, his anger controlled but heavy.

You think I don’t understand women like you? Abini’s eyes stung immediately.

Women like her.

Poor women.

Women whose lives were already bruised before they even met a man like him.

Aini shook her head slowly.

You don’t know me.

Gideon’s jaw flexed.

You’re here to secure a home, to trap me.

I am not trying to trap you, Abini said, voice trembling but firm.

I didn’t even know she was your grandmother until now.

Gideon laughed once, bitter.

Of course.

Abini’s fingers tightened.

And for your information, I don’t even want anything from you.

Gideon’s eyes flashed.

Then why are you refusing the smoothie? Aini looked at it again.

because I don’t trust anything that comes with sudden kindness.

For a moment, Gideon stared at her as if she had slapped him again.

Then he turned to the door and pulled the handle.

It didn’t open.

He pulled again.

Still nothing.

His eyes narrowed.

He knocked hard.

“Grandma,” he called.

No answer.

Aini stepped back slowly.

“What is happening?” Gideon tried the door again, then looked at the lock.

The truth landed like a stone.

His grandmother had locked them in from outside.

Gideon turned sharply to Abini.

His voice was low and furious.

Do you see now? Aini’s eyes widened.

I swear I didn’t.

Gideon cut her off.

Enough.

He paced once, then stopped in front of her like a judge.

Now you must marry me.

He snapped.

Aini blinked, shocked.

What? You heard me? Gideon said.

My grandmother has already set this up.

Whether you planned it or not, she has decided, and she doesn’t lose.

A beanie’s mouth trembled.

This is not my life.

I’m not doing this.

Gideon’s eyes stayed hard.

You will.

Abini shook her head, tears rising.

You can’t just decide for me.

Gideon leaned closer, voice cold.

You should have thought about that before you entered my family’s space.

Abini’s tears fell suddenly, not because she believed him, but because she felt trapped, and she was tired of being trapped.

Morning came like a punishment.

The door opened.

Staff moved around like nothing happened.

Grandma Josephine entered with a bright smile, holding her medicine.

“Good morning, my children,” she said as if she had not locked two adults in a room overnight.

Gideon’s face was thunder.

Abini’s eyes were swollen.

Grandma Josephine clapped her hands.

Today you’re going to the registry.

Bring your ID cards.

Bring everything.

Abini swallowed.

Grandma, please.

Grandma Josephine looked at her.

What is it? Abini’s voice shook.

I I’m pregnant.

The room went silent.

Gideon’s eyes snapped to a beanie so fast it felt like a whip.

A beanie forced herself to continue because if she didn’t speak now, she might never speak again.

I didn’t plan it, she said quickly.

I didn’t even want to keep it.

I went to the hospital yesterday to schedule an abortion Sunday.

Grandma Josephine’s face changed, shock first, then hunger.

Here, she whispered almost like she was praying.

Pregnant.

A beanie nodded weakly.

Yes.

Grandma Josephine stepped forward slowly, eyes shining.

Do you know what this means? Abini couldn’t answer.

Grandma Josephine turned to Gideon.

Gideon.

Gideon’s expression was tight, confused, suspicious, angry all at once.

Grandma Josephine raised her voice.

Our family has had 18 generations of single heirs.

I have been begging God to let me hold a great grandchild, and now heaven is finally answered.

Abini’s lips trembled.

But grandma, I Grandma Josephine lifted her hand.

Don’t say you will remove it again.

Then she did something that made Abini’s heart sink.

She lifted her medicine bottle and said, voice trembling dramatically.

If you refuse, I will stop taking my medicine.

Let me just go and meet my husband.

Aini’s eyes widened.

Grandma, please.

I’m serious.

Grandma Josephine said, coughing lightly for effect.

Let me die.

I’m tired.

Abini looked at Gideon, hoping he would say something.

But Gideon’s face was locked.

Grandma Josephine pushed harder.

You will marry my grandson and give birth to this child.

If you don’t, I will not drink this medicine again.

Abini’s chest rose sharply.

She thought of her mother.

Her mother had died with no one listening to her pain.

And now this old woman was holding her own life like a weapon.

Abini’s voice broke.

Fine.

Grandma Josephine’s eyes brightened instantly.

Good girl.

A beanie wiped her tears quickly, ashamed of them.

After Grandma left, Gideon pulled Aeenie aside.

His voice was low, controlled, but cruel in the way only powerful people could afford.

Let’s be clear, he said.

We both know that pregnancy is not mine.

Abini froze.

Gideon continued, eyes hard.

I saw you take contraception that night.

You didn’t even hesitate.

So, don’t bring a child from another man and throw it at my feet.

Abini stared at him, shocked.

So this was what he believed.

So he truly didn’t know.

And in that moment, Abini’s mind flashed again to Dr.

Raymond’s words.

Those weren’t birth control pills.

They were vitamins.

Abini’s stomach turned.

She had been thinking Gideon did it on purpose.

But looking at his face now, his certainty, his anger, his disgust, she suddenly understood something painful.

It might have been an honest mistake.

And if it was, then the child in her womb.

Abini’s throat closed.

She forced herself not to say it.

Not now.

Not like this.

Gideon took a breath, still controlling the situation like it was a business deal.

This is what will happen, he said.

Two-year contractual marriage.

Aini blinked.

Contract? Yes, Gideon said coldly.

To outsiders, we are married.

We will act like it.

We will wear the name.

We will appear when needed.

And inside, Abini asked quietly.

Inside, it’s a secret, Gideon replied.

Timed.

No intimacy, no foolish emotions.

You will not touch my life beyond what my grandmother demands.

Abini’s lips trembled.

Why are you doing this? Gideon’s eyes stayed hard.

because my grandmother believes the child is mine and she will destroy everything if I fight her.

A beanie swallowed and after 2 years, Gideon said it like a final decision.

After 2 years, I pay you 20 million and you leave.

Abini’s hands shook.

If it’s a contract or why must I keep the pregnancy? Gideon’s voice dropped.

Because grandma loves children.

That’s the only reason you’re here.

Abini looked away, fear sitting in her chest like a stone.

If he ever finds out this baby is his, he will think I planned everything.

So she swallowed the truth and nodded.

That same day, Gideon told her, “You’re moving in immediately.

” Abini’s heart jumped.

“Move in.

I’ll send people to help you pack,” he said.

Then he brought out a card and placed it in her palm.

“No pin,” he said.

“Spend freely.

” Abini stared at it.

I don’t want it.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed.

Don’t start acting proud.

It’s not pride, Abini said quietly.

I have my own money.

Gideon’s voice was flat.

It’s not romance.

I’m avoiding my grandmother’s suspicion.

If you refuse, she will say I’m mistreating you.

Abini’s fingers tightened around the card like it burned.

Before she fully moved in, Habini went back to her apartment to end her lease properly and collect her balance.

She climbed the stairs with her bag and her documents, trying to stay calm.

The landlord, Mr. Salami, was already waiting like he had been preparing for a fight.

“You’re late,” he said rudely.

“I’ve been waiting,” Abini forced politeness.

“Sir, I came as fast as I could.

My lease is ending and I want my deposit back.

” Mr. Salami snatched the papers and glanced at them like they were rubbish.

“A deposit?” he said.

Habini blinked.

“My deposit? It’s in the agreement, Mister.

Salami smirked.

I didn’t see anything.

No refund.

A beanie’s heart clenched.

Sir, please.

I need it.

Mr. Salami’s eyes moved slowly over her body.

Then he smiled in a way that made Abini feel dirty.

You’re a fine girl, he said.

Serve me well, and I’ll return it.

I’ll even give you more.

Aini stepped back sharply.

Don’t talk to me like that.

Mr. Salami moved closer.

Stop pretending.

You know how women like you do things.

Abini’s breath caught.

She raised her hands defensively.

Get away from me.

Mr. Salami grabbed her wrist.

Abini fought back instinctively, pushing, twisting, trying to free herself.

Then a cold voice filled the corridor.

Remove your hand, mister.

Salami froze.

Abini turned.

Gideon Okoro stood there, quiet, dangerous, and perfectly calm.

Mr. Salami laughed nervously.

Ah, sir, I was just Gideon stepped forward slowly.

I said, “Remove your hand.

” Mister Salami released Abini immediately.

Abini’s chest heaved as she held her wrist, shaking.

Gideon looked at Mr. Salami with eyes that didn’t carry mercy.

“Touch her again,” Gideon said, “and you’ll beg the police to believe you.

” “Mister.

” Salami’s face changed.

“Sir, please.

” Gideon turned slightly and spoke to someone behind him.

Two men stepped forward.

“Take him to the station,” Gideon ordered.

Mr. Salami panicked.

“No, I’m sorry.

I made a mistake.

” Abini’s voice shook, but she still said it.

“My deposit.

He hasn’t returned it.

” Gideon looked at her.

For a second, Abini thought he would help her demand it.

But Gideon’s face stayed firm.

You can go home now, he said.

Abini blinked.

But Gideon cut her off sharply.

“Do I have to say it again?” Abini swallowed the rest of her words.

Gideon stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.

“Next time you’re bullied,” he said.

“Remember to call me.

” Abini stared at him, confused by the protection that came with control.

Then Gideon added cold and final.

“You’re Mr.s.

Okoro now.

Outside, don’t disgrace the family.

” Abini’s throat tightened.

Not because she wanted his name, but because she could feel what that name would cost her, and she wasn’t sure she had anything left to pay with.

A beanie did not speak again until Gideon’s car brought her back to the mansion.

Her wrist still hurt where the landlord had held her.

Not the kind of pain that left bruises, but the kind that stayed inside your skin and refused to go away.

Gideon walked in first, like he was escorting a problem he did not ask for.

A beanie followed behind him, quiet and careful, trying to make her face blank so nobody would read her shame.

But the moment Grandma Josephine saw her, the old woman’s eyes lit up like someone welcoming a long-awaited answer to prayer.

“My daughter-in-law!” Grandma exclaimed, waving her hand as if the whole house should clap.

A beanie froze at that word.

Then the gifts started coming.

boxes, bags, jewelry cases, expensive fabric folded like something sacred, a watch that looked like it belonged on a billboard, a handbag that smelled like new money.

A beanie stood there confused as Grandma Josephine smiled proudly.

“These are small things,” Grandma said like she was talking about sache water.

“My grandson is stubborn, but I am not poor.

If you are entering this family, you will not enter empty.

” Abini tried to refuse.

Grandma, it’s too much.

I can’t.

Grandma waved her off.

You can, you will.

And before Abini could even breathe properly, two women from the house had already carried her suitcase, her small, tired suitcase, into the corridor.

Abini followed them with her eyes.

Where are you taking my things? Grandma Josephine pointed casually to Gideon’s room.

Abini’s heart jumped.

Grandma, please.

Gideon’s face tightened.

Grandma, that’s enough.

Grandma looked at him like he was a child who didn’t understand sense.

It is not enough.

She is your wife.

Abini’s throat went dry.

She turned slowly to Gideon.

Sir, I can sleep in the guest room.

Gideon stared at her for a second, then looked away like he hated that he had to answer.

If you sleep in the guest room, he said, Grandma will scold me until morning.

A beanie swallowed.

I’m pregnant.

I’m uncomfortable.

I don’t want trouble.

Gideon’s eyes flicked to her belly, then back to her face.

His voice dropped.

I’m not an animal, he said.

You’ll sleep.

I’ll sleep.

We’ll act like two adults who have sense.

Just don’t make Grandma suspicious.

It was not comfort.

It was a warning disguised as agreement.

Still, a beanie nodded because she didn’t have the strength to fight another battle.

That night, she lay on the far edge of the bed, stiff like someone sleeping on a stranger’s pride.

Gideon lay on the other side, silent.

But the room itself felt crowded by Grandma’s expectations, by a beanie’s fear, by the secret that sat heavy in her chest like a stone.

The next morning, Gideon drove her to work.

Not the way a kind man would, not the way a husband would, more like a man escorting a fragile lie.

Stop here,” Abini said when they got close.

Gideon glanced at her.

Why? People will see, she whispered.

“They can see,” he replied, calm and careless.

“I’m not hiding a crime.

” Abini wanted to tell him, “This isn’t your shame.

It’s mine.

” But she held it back.

He dropped her near the entrance and drove off as if nothing happened.

Abini turned, and that was when she felt the eyes.

People were already watching.

Whispers moved faster than footsteps.

And then Lydia Ezie appeared.

Lydia always moved like she had permission to hurt people.

She stepped into Abini’s space, her eyes sharp and hungry.

“What is that?” Lydia asked, pointing.

Aini looked down.

It was the watch Grandma Josephine had forced on her wrist.

Heavy, shining, impossible to hide.

“It’s mine,” Abini said quietly.

Lydia laughed once, sharp and fake.

Your own.

Before Abini could react, Lydia grabbed Abini’s wrist and snatched the watch off like she was collecting evidence.

Aini’s heart jumped.

Give it back.

Lydia raised it.

A limited edition watch, she said loudly, making sure the people around could hear.

Everybody knows the CEO wears one like this.

So tell me, Abini, when did you start stealing? Aini’s face went hot.

I didn’t steal anything.

Lydia leaned closer.

Then come, let’s go and disgrace you properly.

She grabbed Ainie’s arm and dragged her through the office like a trophy.

A beanie stumbled but forced herself not to beg.

Not again.

She had begged enough people in this life.

They reached Gideon’s office.

Lydia marched in without knocking.

“Sir,” she announced.

“We have a thief in the office.

” Gideon looked up slowly, his face unreadable.

Lydia lifted the watch.

This is your limited edition watch.

I caught her hiding it.

Abini’s mouth trembled, but she spoke.

Sir, it’s mine.

Gideon stared at Lydia for a long moment.

Then he asked, calm and deadly.

When did I say I lost my watch? Lydia froze.

The air shifted.

Gideon’s eyes did not move from Lydia’s face.

Since you have time to accuse people, you must be very free.

He turned slightly to a beanie.

Protect your belongings, he said, voice firm.

Don’t let foolish people touch what belongs to you.

Then he faced Lydia again.

If you ever put your hands on her again, he said quietly.

You will learn what consequences look like.

Lydia’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Gideon didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t need to.

Abini collected the watch from Lydia’s stiff fingers and stepped back, her chest tight.

As she left his office, her mind spun with one question.

Why does he keep protecting me? By afternoon, Abini was tired of being noticed.

She walked to Gideon’s office door and spoke carefully.

Sir, I’ll eat in the cafeteria from now on.

Gideon’s eyes lifted.

Why? To avoid trouble, she said up.

A Gideon stood up slowly.

Aini thought he would dismiss her.

Instead, he said, “Come.

” Aini blinked.

“Sir, come.

” He repeated, already walking.

Abini followed, confused, as Gideon headed straight toward the cafeteria like a storm that had finally chosen a direction.

The moment he entered, workers stiffened.

Supervisors rushed out with forced smiles.

“Good afternoon, sir.

” Gideon didn’t greet anyone.

He scanned the food, the trays, the labels, the smiling faces that looked too rehearsed.

“Show me your food safety reports,” he said.

The cafeteria admin supervisor, a middle-aged man with sweat shining on his forehead, quickly nodded.

“Sir, everything is in order.

We follow all standards.

” Gideon’s eyes were cold.

“Then explain why the food smells like yesterday.

” The man laughed nervously.

“Sir, it’s fresh.

” Gideon lifted a lid from one pot, stared inside, and his face hardened further.

He called for records.

He called for receipts.

He called for inspection logs.

Within minutes, it became obvious they were lying.

Fake compliance, corruption, poor nutrition, cheap ingredients build as expensive ones.

Safety checks were done on paper only.

A beanie stood behind him watching the CEO.

She thought she understood.

This was not just anger.

This was disgust.

Gideon turned to the admin supervisor.

Starting tomorrow, he said, “You don’t need to come to work.

” The man’s face fell.

Sir, please.

Gideon cut him off.

You’re fired.

The man dropped to his knees.

Sir, I beg you.

I need this job.

Gideon didn’t flinch.

Then you should have done it properly.

And just like that, it was over.

When Gideon walked out, the cafeteria became silent behind him, like even the walls were afraid to talk.

By the time Abini returned to her desk, gossip had already exploded.

Did you hear? The CEO fired the cafeteria.

supervisor.

When has he ever cared about food? Why now? People did not say her name out loud, but she felt it anyway.

Later, a woman appeared quietly beside a beanie’s desk.

She was older with calm eyes and a firm mouth.

She carried a lunch bag as if it contained instructions, not food.

Madam, the woman said softly.

I’m Auntie Bose.

A beanie looked up.

Good afternoon.

Auntie Bose placed the lunch bag on the table.

Young master said I should bring you food.

Abini’s throat tightened.

I didn’t ask him.

Auntie Bose leaned in slightly, her voice low.

This office is not safe for soft people.

A beanie stared at her.

Auntie Bose continued.

If you keep letting people step on you, they will keep stepping.

Today is a warning.

Tomorrow might be worse.

A beanie swallowed.

Auntie Bose tapped the table gently.

You are carrying a child.

Don’t let your mouth be too quiet.

Don’t let your eyes always be on the floor.

Then she straightened.

Eat and stand well.

She left as quietly as she came.

A beanie sat there for a long time, staring at the lunch bag like it carried more than food.

Lydia did not rest.

She came again, leaning on Ainie’s desk with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“So,” Lydia murmured, “you’re enjoying your new protection.

” A beanie didn’t answer.

Lydia’s voice sharpened.

“You think you’re special now? You think you’ve won?” Abini lifted her eyes slowly, and for the first time, she did not shrink.

“I don’t think anything,” Abini said quietly.

“But I know one thing,” Lydia tilted her head.

“What?” Abini’s voice stayed calm.

“You are too old to be acting like a bully.

” The silence around them changed.

Lydia’s smile twitched.

Aini didn’t wait for her reply.

She turned back to her screen, hands steady, as she had finally decided she would not be food for anyone again.

That evening, Feiadi caught up to her near the corridor.

He looked handsome in a clean, polished way, smiling too easily, too confidently as he had never been poor a day in his life.

Aanie, he said softly.

How long will you keep avoiding me? Aini’s chest tightened.

Femi, please.

Why won’t you accept me? he asked, stepping closer.

I’m not like these people.

Abini’s throat burned.

I don’t see you that way.

Femi’s smile stayed, but his eyes shifted.

Then I’ll make you see me.

Aini blinked.

What do you mean? Femi leaned in, voice low and excited.

On your birthday, I’m going to propose publicly.

You won’t forget it.

Aini’s heart dropped.

She forced a small, strained smile.

Please don’t.

Femi chuckled.

You’ll thank me later.

As he walked away, Abini stood still, her hands cold.

She told herself quietly, “I have to stop this.

I can’t keep collecting problems like debts.

” The next day, another problem returned.

Miranda Eba.

The moment Miranda walked in, people straightened.

The air changed.

Even Lydia became careful.

Miranda was the kind of woman who moved like she owned the ground.

Beautiful, powerful, dressed like the office was her personal event.

She stopped at a beanie’s desk and smiled.

But the smile was not kind.

It was a message.

“At your age,” Miranda said smoothly.

“It’s normal to have fantasies.

” A beanie looked up slowly.

Miranda continued, voice sweet.

“Just don’t mistake fantasies for reality and ruin your future.

” A beanie’s lips pressed together.

She didn’t reply.

Miranda walked away like she had done a beanie a favor.

and Abini knew it clearly.

Miranda was not warning her.

Miranda was claiming Gideon.

Later that day, Miranda entered Gideon’s office.

Abini saw it too late.

Someone had told Aini to drop off a file, and she had stepped in, only to see Miranda already inside, sitting like she belonged there.

Miranda’s eyes flicked to a beanie.

Sharp, suspicious.

A beanie’s heart jumped.

Gideon’s voice was low.

Go.

Abini didn’t know who he was talking to at first.

Then Gideon’s eyes moved slightly toward the desk.

Abini understood.

Her stomach clenched, but she moved quickly, quietly, and slipped under the desk.

Her heart pounded like it wanted to expose her.

Miranda’s voice floated above.

Gideon, why are you acting strange lately? Gideon’s tone was cold.

Say what you came to say.

Miranda leaned forward.

Are you hiding someone from me? Gideon laughed once.

Do I need to? Miranda paused, then her eyes narrowed.

What was that sound? Aini held her breath.

Miranda’s heels moved slightly as if she wanted to stand and look.

Gideon’s voice dropped like a slap.

Enough.

Miranda stiffened.

Gideon continued.

From today, without my permission, you are not allowed to enter this office.

Miranda’s voice rose, offended.

Gideon, get out, Gideon said.

There was a silence thick with ego and insult.

Then Miranda stood abruptly.

Fine, I’ll leave.

The door opened, closed.

For 3 seconds, Abini remained frozen under the desk.

Then Gideon said, calm.

“Come out.

” A beanie slowly crawled out, her face burning with embarrassment.

Gideon looked at her.

“Next time, don’t freeze,” he said.

“Think faster.

” Abini swallowed.

Thank you.

Gideon didn’t respond to the gratitude.

He just turned back to his laptop like nothing had happened.

But Abini could feel it again.

He had protected her.

Later, Lydia tried another method.

She dumped a pile of documents on Abini’s desk.

Sort these.

Deliver them now.

Abini stared.

That’s not my job.

Lydia smiled sharply.

You forget yourself.

I’m the CEO’s assistant.

When I speak, you move.

Abini’s hands tightened.

I only take instructions from my supervisor.

Lydia’s eyes flashed.

Don’t be foolish.

In this office, you need to know who can break you.

Abini stood slowly.

Try it.

Lydia’s smile dropped.

You think you’re brave because the CEO is looking at you? You’re still nothing.

Before Abini could reply, Gideon’s voice cut through the corridor.

Lydia.

Everyone froze.

Gideon walked over calm and dangerous.

He looked at Lydia like she was dirt he was tired of stepping on.

“Control your people,” he said, his eyes shifting briefly toward Miranda’s section two, like the warning was not only for Lydia.

Then he looked at Lydia directly.

“If I find your people bullying my people again, she leaves.

” Lydia’s mouth opened.

No sound came.

Gideon turned to a beanie.

You represent my face,” he said quietly.

“If you’re bullied, fight back.

” Abini nodded, her throat tight.

Lydia stood there shaking with restrained anger.

And Aini understood something clearly.

“This office was turning into a battlefield, and she was standing in the middle of it.

” After work hours, Lydia approached Aini again, her voice suddenly sweet.

“Your old files,” Lydia said, “are in the cold lab.

Go and get them now.

Abini hesitated.

Now? It’s late.

It’s urgent, Lydia replied smoothly.

If the CEO is delayed because of you, you’ll bear the consequences.

Abini’s stomach tightened.

She didn’t want trouble.

So, she went.

The cold lab was quiet.

The corridor empty.

Abini stepped inside and shivered immediately.

The air was sharp, heavy, unfriendly.

She moved quickly, searching for the files.

Then she heard it, a soft click.

The door.

A beanie spun and ran to it, pulling the handle.

Locked.

Her breath caught.

“Hello?” she called, banging the door.

“Is anyone there?” Silence.

Then the cold started biting harder.

Abini’s teeth began to chatter.

She banged again.

“Please open the door.

” Somewhere outside, she heard voices.

security guards.

I heard something, one said lazily.

Please leave it, another replied.

Who will enter that lab at this time? Let’s go.

A beanie screamed again, panic rising.

Help me, please.

The voices moved away, and Abini’s heart began to sink.

The cold crawled into her bones.

Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold her phone.

She called.

No network.

she called again.

Nothing.

Her body started losing strength slowly like the cold was drinking from her.

Tears fell without permission.

Am I going to die here? She held her belly with trembling hands.

Please, she whispered, voice breaking.

Not my baby.

Please.

At home, Grandma Josephine paced.

She hasn’t returned, Grandma said, looking at the staff as if they had sinned.

And she is not answering her phone.

Auntie Bose looked worried.

We’ve tried, Ma.

Grandma turned sharply to Gideon.

Gideon, a young pregnant woman outside at night is not safe.

Gideon’s face changed.

He grabbed his keys and stood immediately.

Where was she last seen? No one answered fast enough.

Gideon’s voice sharpened.

Now, they told him, and Gideon moved.

Back at the office, Gideon stormed in like something had snapped.

The security guard stood up quickly, startled.

Has anyone been to the cold lab? Gideon demanded.

Sir, one guard stammered.

The lab is too cold.

Nobody goes there.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed.

Open it.

Sir, we don’t have the key.

Gideon stepped closer.

I won’t say it twice.

They searched, panicked.

Finally, someone produced a spare key.

The door swung open, and Gideon froze.

A beanie was on the floor, curled up, shaking, her lips pale, her eyes half closed.

Abini, Gideon shouted.

He rushed to her, lifted her gently, his hands suddenly careful in a way they had never been before.

Abini, open your eyes, he said, voice tight.

Don’t sleep.

Don’t you dare sleep.

Abini’s lashes fluttered.

She whispered something weak, his name maybe, or just a sound of pain.

Gideon held her closer.

I’m here, he said.

You’re not dying here.

That night, Gideon stayed.

Not because grandma forced him, not because the contract said so.

He stayed because his eyes refused to leave a beanie’s face.

“Dr.

Raymond came furious and checked her condition quickly.

The baby is fine,” he said.

“But his voice was sharp.

She needs rest.

And this place, this company, your safety system is nonsense.

” Then he faced a beanie directly.

“If you don’t speak, people will keep treating you like you don’t matter.

Think about quitting.

Think deeply.

Abini’s voice was weak, but she spoke.

Lydia, she sent me.

Gideon’s jaw tightened.

The next day, Gideon summoned Lydia and Miranda.

He did not shout.

He didn’t need to.

He proposed checking surveillance footage.

They checked.

They found movement, faces, timing.

Then they found the lab key dumped in the trash like guilt.

Then the fingerprint report came back.

It pointed straight to Lydia.

Lydia tried to talk.

Miranda tried to step in.

Miranda said, “Maybe we should let it go.

It’s a misunderstanding.

” Gideon looked at her slowly.

“So, you want to cover for her?” Miranda’s face stiffened.

Gideon said, “Fine, choose.

” Miranda blinked.

“Choose what?” Gideon’s voice stayed calm.

“Either you stay or she stays.

Only one.

” Miranda’s lips trembled, but her pride helped her speak.

Gideon, don’t do this.

Gideon didn’t blink.

Miranda’s eyes shifted to Lydia.

And in that moment, Abini saw it clearly.

Miranda would sacrifice anyone to keep her own seat.

Miranda lifted her chin.

Then Lydia should go.

Lydia’s face twisted.

Auntie Miranda.

Gideon raised a hand.

Enough.

He stood and looked at them both.

I gave you a chance to show character, he said.

You failed.

He pointed slightly.

Both of you get out.

Miranda stiffened.

Gideon.

Gideon’s voice dropped.

You thought I would save you because you feel entitled to me.

You were wrong.

Security stepped forward.

Lydia started crying.

Miranda started threatening.

But Gideon didn’t move.

They dragged Lydia out.

They dragged Miranda out, too.

and the whole office watched like people watching power fall from a balcony.

Later at home, Gideon sat across from a beanie.

She looked smaller in his space, wrapped in a blanket, eyes tired, voice quiet.

He stared at her for a long time, then said softly, “So, how will you thank me?” Abini blinked, shy and confused, “Sir, thank you is enough.

” Gideon leaned back slightly.

Is it? Abini looked away, her cheeks warming.

Gideon watched her like he was noticing her properly for the first time.

Her face, her mouth, the way she tried to hide herself when she felt seen.

He spoke again, quieter.

You’re always trying to disappear.

Habini swallowed.

Because disappearing keeps me safe.

Gideon’s eyes held hers.

Not in my space.

Habini didn’t know what to say to that.

She only knew one thing.

Their closeness was no longer a secret.

Not at home, not at work.

People had seen the car, the watch, the protection, the fall of Lydia and Miranda.

And now everyone would watch a beanie harder because once a powerful man looks in your direction, people don’t just hate you.

They start planning what to do to you.

And Ainie could feel it in her bones.

The office tension was no longer rising.

It had already arrived.

Abini thought the office would calm down after Lydia and Miranda were removed.

But peace does not come quickly to places where people have already tasted gossip.

So when she returned, quiet, neat, hair pulled back, face still a little pale.

She kept her eyes down and her steps careful.

She told herself she would do her work and go home.

Nothing more.

She almost succeeded until she turned a corner and met Gideon Okoro and Dr.

Dr.

Raymond Akini standing together.

Dr.

Raymond was in a crisp shirt, hospital ID still hanging from his neck like he had come straight from a ward.

Gideon stood beside him with that same hard face he always wore in public like emotions were a luxury he refused to buy.

A beanie’s stomach tightened.

Dr.

Raymon’s eyes found her first.

He didn’t smile.

A beanie, he said calmly.

You missed your appointment.

Her heart dropped.

the abortion.

For a second, her mouth opened and no sound came out.

Her mind ran quickly, searching for the safest lie.

Then she forced the words out.

I got married.

Dr.

Raymond blinked once like he was checking whether he heard her correctly.

Gideon’s face did not change, but something inside his eyes shifted sharp and fast, like a door slamming.

Dr.

Raymond looked from a beanie to Gideon, then back to a beanie.

And you’re telling me this now? He asked.

Abini nodded quickly.

It happened suddenly.

Dr.

Raymond’s gaze fell to her belly for a brief second, then rose again.

And the pills? He asked quietly.

The ones you thought were contraceptives.

A beanie’s throat went dry.

Dr.

Raymond continued, careful but firm.

I told you those were vitamins.

If you missed the appointment, then the next thing is checkups to be safe.

Habini nodded again, too quickly, too nervous.

Beside her, Gideon’s hand tightened slightly at his side.

He didn’t speak, but his mind was moving.

Habini could feel it.

And for the first time since the towel knight, Gideon looked, unsettled, not angry, not arrogant, just shaken in a way he was trying to hide.

Because the truth was now standing in front of him with two legs.

If those pills were really vitamins, then this pregnancy was not an accident from some other man.

It was likely his.

And the more time Gideon had spent watching a beanie, her fear, her pride, her quiet refusal to beg, he was starting to understand something that disturbed him.

A beanie was not the kind of woman he had judged her to be.

Before Abini could even ask for permission, Gideon spoke cold and final.

We’re going to the hospital.

Abini’s eyes widened.

Sir, I’ve already taken leave for you, he added like he was talking about a file.

Abini froze.

You took leave for me.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Do you want to argue here? People were already looking.

Aini swallowed.

No.

Good.

He said and turned.

Aini followed him trying to keep up.

Inside her chest was tight with confusion.

Why is he doing this? Is it because of grandma or because he is scared or something else she wasn’t ready to name? At the hospital, they registered.

Gideon stood too close like he didn’t trust her not to disappear.

Abini kept shifting uncomfortable, trying to create space without making it obvious.

When they finally sat, the nurse asked for the husband’s contact.

Abini hesitated.

Gideon watched her.

The nurse frowned slightly.

Madam, your husband’s number.

Her beanie’s fingers tightened around her bag.

She looked at Gideon and then looked away again.

The nurse’s eyes moved between them slowly.

“Are you really husband and wife?” she asked, not even trying to hide the suspicion.

“You don’t even have his WhatsApp?” Abini felt her face heat up.

Gideon’s expression hardened instantly.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked, offended.

The nurse shrugged like she had seen too many fake relationships to be impressed.

“Madam is pregnant.

You people are acting like strangers.

” Gideon turned to Abini, his voice low.

“In your eyes,” he said.

“I don’t even matter.

” Abini blinked, startled.

“That’s not what.

” “Then prove it,” he said, still low, still intense.

Aini swallowed and pulled out her phone with shaking fingers.

Gideon watched her type his number, then add him.

She hit save.

Gideon’s eyes stayed on her face for a second longer than necessary.

Only then did he look away like he was satisfied, yet still angry that he had needed to ask.

The scan did not take long.

The doctor stared at the screen, adjusted something, then stared again.

Abini’s heart began to race.

Gideon stood beside the bed, hands in his pockets, face calm, but eyes too focused.

Then the doctor smiled.

Congratulations, she said.

You’re carrying twins, Abini went still.

Twins, she whispered.

Yes, the doctor replied warmly.

Two babies.

Aini’s eyes filled suddenly.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

It felt like her life was refusing to stay simple.

Gideon didn’t speak, but his jaw tightened.

His eyes stayed on the screen like he was trying to count the future.

Two babies, not one, two.

And in his chest, fear mixed with something he had not allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Responsibility that wasn’t forced.

Responsibility that felt personal.

They returned to the office later.

Gideon walked her in like he didn’t care who watched.

When he entered a meeting room, people stood.

He normally wouldn’t even notice anyone’s discomfort.

But this time he looked at Abini and said in front of everyone, “Sit here.

” Abini blinked.

Sir, sit.

He repeated.

Then he glanced at the room.

Meeting suspended.

10-minute break.

The room went silent.

People exchanged looks because this was not Gideon Aoro.

Not the cold CEO they feared.

This was a man pausing business because a woman needed to breathe.

Habini sat slowly, heart pounding, feeling every eye on her.

And Gideon remained standing beside her chair like a guard who did not trust the world.

That evening, the mansion felt different, not tense, busy, whispering.

Auntie Bose moved around with quiet urgency.

Grandma Josephine looked too excited for someone who coughed blood not long ago.

A beanie entered the sitting room and froze.

A cake sat on the table.

Gift bags were arranged like a small market of luxury.

Then Grandma Josephine clapped her hands.

Happy birthday, my daughter-in-law.

Auntie Bose and two staff members started singing.

A beanie stood there stunned.

She had forgotten her birthday.

Or maybe she had simply stopped expecting it to matter after her mother died.

But as they sang, something broke softly inside her.

For the first time since she lost her mother, the only family she had ever truly had, Abini felt, remembered.

She smiled, not the small polite smile she gave strangers, a real one.

And Grandma Josephine noticed immediately.

“Look at her,” Grandma said proudly.

“This is how a woman should smile.

” Abini blinked back tears quickly so nobody would see.

Gideon watched her quietly from the side.

He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t clap, but his eyes stayed on her smile like he wanted to memorize it.

After the cake, Gideon handed her a box.

A beanie opened it and froze again.

It was a dress, beautiful, but it was also bold, more revealing than anything she had ever worn in her life.

A beanie looked up slowly.

“Sir.

” Gideon’s voice was low.

“Wear it for me tonight.

” A beanie’s breath caught.

She wasn’t sure if it was a joke or a command or a sign that his control was turning into something else entirely.

Her cheeks warmed.

“I I don’t think I can.

” Gideon’s eyes narrowed slightly, not angry, but possessive in a way that confused her.

“We’ll discuss it,” he said, like he was trying to sound calm while something inside him was growing teeth.

A beanie looked away, heart beating too fast.

Later when the house finally quieted doctor Raymond came again.

He didn’t look like a man coming to greet a family.

He looked like a man carrying heavy news.

He walked into Gideon’s space without fear because he clearly had permission.

I found something.

Dr.

Raymon said Gideon’s eyes sharpened.

What? Dr.

Raymond pulled out an old worn diary.

Its pages aged, its cover cracked like history.

It belonged to someone close to your grandfather, he said.

There are clues inside about a long-lost sister.

Aini’s heart skipped.

A sister.

She held her breath as Dr.

Raymond spoke.

And as she listened, her eyes kept drifting to Dr.

Raymond’s face.

His brows, his eyes, the shape of his cheekbones.

Something about him pulled at an old memory in her.

An image of a man from a faded photograph her mother used to hide away.

A beanie’s head started spinning.

Why does he look familiar? And the name too, Akini.

It rang in her mind like a bell she had heard as a child but never understood.

Dr.

Raymond and Gideon spoke like men who had been searching for years, like this was not just gossip.

This was a wound.

Gideon nodded once.

I’ll investigate quietly.

Dr.

Raymond exhaled.

Good.

because I’ve been looking for my sister for a long time.

A beanie stood there silent, but her mind was now on fire.

A sister, a missing child, a diary, and Dr.

Raymond’s face that looks like a past I don’t fully remember.

A few days later, Gideon took her beanie out.

Not to the cafeteria, not to some small quiet place, a real store, a place where everything had a price tag that could pay rent for a year.

Abini stood beside him uncomfortable.

“Sir, I don’t need this,” she said.

Gideon glanced at her.

“Pick.

” Abini looked at the jewelry, overwhelmed.

“I don’t like any of them.

” Gideon’s mouth twitched.

Then, without blinking, he said to the attendant, “Wrap everything.

” Abini’s eyes widened.

“Everything.

” Gideon nodded calm.

“Everything.

” Abini stared at him like he had lost his mind.

When they stepped out, a flower seller approached.

Buy flowers for your girlfriend, sir.

Abini tried to speak.

Tried to correct the woman.

Gideon beat her to it.

She’s my wife.

The words landed heavy.

Public.

Clear.

Abini’s chest tightened.

Gideon handed her the flowers, then leaned closer slightly.

“You said you didn’t like them,” he murmured.

Aini whispered back, half embarrassed, half annoyed.

You’re doing too much.

Gideon’s eyes flicked to her face.

Better too much than too little, he replied.

Then his voice lowered, teasing but jealous.

Or do you want someone else to start buying for you? Abini scoffed softly.

Who? Gideon’s gaze sharpened.

Don’t pretend you don’t know.

Abini’s heart skipped.

Femi.

The office.

The attention.

All of it.

And then, without warning, Abini’s world tilted.

Her knees weakened.

Her vision blurred.

She heard her name faintly like it came from far away.

Then darkness.

Call someone.

Gideon’s voice snapped, sharper than anyone had ever heard it in public.

He caught her before she fell fully, pulling her against him like he was holding something breakable.

“It’s my fault,” he muttered, panic rising.

“I shouldn’t have stopped.

” His hands shook slightly as he held her.

By the time they got to the hospital, Abini was awake but weak.

The doctor checked her quickly.

“She’s okay,” the doctor said.

“Stress and exhaustion.

She needs rest.

” Gideon didn’t breathe properly until he heard that.

Abini stared at him from the bed, watching his face.

The fear in his eyes was real.

Not acting.

Not for grandma.

Real.

and something inside a beanie softened painfully.

In her heart, she whispered, “When I’m strong enough, I’ll tell him the truth about the babies.

” That night, Gideon didn’t sleep.

He sat in a private space with Dr.

Raymond.

“I want it done fast,” Gideon said quietly.

Dr.

Raymond raised a brow.

“A DNA test.

” “Yes.

” Dr.

Raymond studied him for a moment, then sighed.

“You’re really doing this?” Gideon’s voice was tight.

I need to know.

Dr.

Raymond leaned back slightly, then teased him with a tired smile.

Which fearless woman is trying to trap you, Gideon Aoro? Gideon’s eyes flashed.

Don’t start.

Dr.

Raymon lifted both hands.

Okay, I’ll expedite it.

The report arrived sooner than a beanie would ever know.

Gideon opened it alone.

His eyes moved once, twice.

Then his fingers tightened around the paper until it crumpled slightly.

Because the results were clear.

The twins were his.

Not likely, not maybe, his.

And in that moment, something inside Gideon snapped.

Not with anger at a beanie, but with anger at himself, at how he had judged her, at how he had treated her like she was cheap, at how she had carried his children in silence while planning to disappear.

He found her later sitting quietly, hands resting lightly on her belly.

He didn’t greet her.

He didn’t pretend.

He went straight to the truth.

“The children are mine,” he said.

Abini’s breath caught.

Her eyes lifted slowly to his face.

Gideon’s voice dropped raw.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Abini swallowed hard.

“Because you already decided who I was,” Gideon flinched slightly.

Abini continued, voice shaking but honest.

You told me it was a contract.

You told me I would leave after 2 years.

I plan to go with my babies and not disturb your life.

Gideon stepped closer.

Who allowed you? Abini blinked.

Sir.

No.

He cut in, his eyes burning.

A beanie listened to me.

His voice softened suddenly like it cost him something.

I misjudged you, he said.

I thought you were like other women who come near me with plans.

Abini’s throat tightened.

Gideon exhaled slowly.

But you’re not, he said.

And somewhere along the line, I started seeing it.

He glanced at her belly, then back at her face.

I have feelings for them, he admitted quietly, and his voice stalled like the next part scared him.

And I have feelings for you, too.

Abini’s eyes filled.

Gideon’s jaw tightened, refusing to let emotion make him weak.

“I’m taking responsibility,” he said firmly.

“Not because of grandma, not because of the Okoro name, because they’re my children and you’re my wife.

” Abini’s lips trembled.

And for the first time, the contract marriage began to crack because what Gideon was offering now was no longer paper.

It was possession mixed with fear.

love trying to learn how to speak.

And a beanie, still scared, still healing, could only sit there and wonder if he knows the truth now.

What will he do with it? She hardly slept that night.

Even after Gideon told her the twins were his, even after he said he had feelings for her, her heart still kept beating like it was waiting for the next shock.

And the next morning, shock came wearing a nice shirt and office perfume.

It was the department dinner.

Abini tried to say she was tired.

Gideon didn’t allow it.

“You’re coming,” he said simply like it was not up for discussion.

So, she went, not because she wanted attention, but because somewhere deep inside, she wanted to believe she did not have to hide anymore.

The dinner was lively, too lively.

People ate, laughed, tried to pretend they weren’t still watching the CEO and his mysterious wife like it was a movie.

Then someone suggested a game.

Truth or dare? Abini’s stomach tightened immediately.

She didn’t like games.

Games always turned into humiliation when people were jealous.

But the circle was already formed.

The rules were already shouted.

The bottle was already spinning.

It landed on a beanie.

Someone grinned like they had been waiting.

I dare you, the girl said loudly.

Kiss the person to your left.

The room erupted.

Kiss.

Kiss.

Kiss.

A beanie froze.

To her left was Gideon.

Her cheeks heated up.

Her fingers tightened around her cup.

She stood up slowly, forcing her voice to stay calm.

I won’t do it, she said.

I’ll drink.

The crowd booed.

A beanie lifted the drink.

Before it reached her lips, Gideon’s hand entered the space and took that cup from her like it belonged to him.

He didn’t even look at anyone.

He drank it.

One, then another, then a third.

Silence spread slowly like smoke.

A beanie stared at him.

Gideon set the cup down and glanced at the room.

“She won’t drink,” he said coldly.

“Not in my presence.

” Nobody laughed again.

Nobody shouted again.

And in that moment, Abini understood something.

Gideon was not protecting her quietly anymore.

He was doing it publicly, like a man who was tired of hiding.

Abini’s chest felt tight.

She needed air.

She stepped outside the hall, breathing like she had been running.

A few seconds later, she heard footsteps behind her.

Gideon.

He came close.

Not too close, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.

You left, he said.

I needed air, Abini replied, still facing the night.

Gideon’s voice dropped.

You refuse a kiss, but you want to run away.

Aini turned nervous.

It’s not like that.

Gideon stepped closer, the teasing in his eyes turning serious.

A beanie, he said.

This secret marriage, it’s pointless now.

Abini’s heart skipped.

Gideon, people will talk.

I might lose my job.

He stared at her like she didn’t understand who he was.

I’m the boss, he said.

Nobody can touch you.

Abini’s throat tightened.

But no, but he cut in.

Then he leaned in like he wanted to kiss her right there in the open.

Abini’s breath stopped.

His lips hovered close, almost touching.

Almost.

Then he pulled back slightly, eyes locked on hers, voice low.

“Go back inside,” he said.

“Let them talk.

” A beanie swallowed and nodded.

That night, as people were still eating dessert and gossiping under their breath, phones started vibrating.

One by one, heads bent down to screens.

Then someone gasped.

Ah, see this? Another voice shouted from across the table.

Boss Chi, sorry.

Boss Okoro posted.

People rushed to check and the dining hall exploded.

The cold CEO is in love.

Jesus, he posted his wife.

So that’s Mr.s.

Okoro.

Abini stood still, confused, then slowly checked her own phone.

It was there.

Gideon had announced it clearly.

Abini was Mr.s.

Okoro.

No hiding, no secret, no contract talk, just a public claim.

Aini’s stomach flipped.

She looked up and found Gideon’s eyes across the room.

He didn’t smile, but his stare said everything.

I’ve chosen you.

Let them choke on it.

That was when Femi appeared.

He walked into the hall like a man about to perform.

In his hands were sunflowers, bright and loud.

People murmured.

Some even smiled because they thought this would be sweet.

Femi went down on one knee.

A beanie, he said, voice shaking but dramatic.

I’ve loved you for so long.

Will you marry me? The hall went silent.

Aini’s whole body went cold.

She wanted the ground to open and swallow her.

She stepped back, shaking her head.

Femi, “No,” she said softly.

“I only see you as a friend, and I’m married.

” Femy’s face changed immediately.

Not heartbreak, not acceptance, possessiveness.

He stood up quickly, eyes wild.

“You’re lying,” he snapped.

“You’re mine.

You just want to shame me.

” Habini’s hands trembled.

Please don’t do this.

And then Gideon’s voice cut through the hall like a knife.

Enough.

He walked forward slowly, calm, dangerous.

He stood beside a beanie and looked at everyone.

Then he looked at Fei.

This woman is my wife, Gideon said.

Fei laughed bitterly.

Your wife since when? Gideon didn’t blink.

She is also carrying my children.

A beanie flinched at the word children because it was still new to say it out loud like that.

The hall erupted again.

Some people gasped.

Some covered their mouths.

Some whispered prayers like they were in church.

Femy’s face twisted.

He moved like he wanted to grab a beanie.

Gideon didn’t raise his voice.

Security, he said.

Two guards stepped forward immediately.

Femi struggled, shouting insults, begging, even crying in anger.

Let me go, Abini.

Tell him.

Abini’s eyes were wet, but she didn’t move, and Gideon didn’t allow it to drag.

Take him out, he said.

Femi was removed.

Abini stood there shaking.

Gideon turned to her, his voice softer now.

“Come,” he said.

He escorted her out, hands careful at her back.

Outside, in the quiet of the parking lot, the noise behind them felt far away.

A beanie looked up at him, eyes glossy.

You didn’t have to do all that,” she whispered.

Gideon’s gaze dropped to her lips.

“I did,” he replied.

He leaned in again.

This time, his lips brushed close, almost a kiss.

Abini’s breath caught.

Then, headlights flashed nearby, and Gideon paused, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly like he was holding himself.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

And the way he said it sounded like a promise.

The next day at the mansion, trouble arrived, wearing wealth.

The living room was calm until the gate opened and a convoy drove in like they owned the street.

A woman stepped out.

Elegant, expensive, sharp.

She entered like a storm.

I am Mr.s.

Akini, she announced.

Abini’s heart jumped at the surname.

Mr.s.

Akinyami’s eyes swept the room and landed on Gideon.

You were engaged to marry my daughter, she said, voice hard.

Cecilia Cece long ago.

Grandma Josephine’s smile disappeared.

What engagement? Gideon asked cold.

Mr.s.

Akini slapped a file on the table.

Don’t insult me.

The promise was made.

Now Cece is back.

Fulfill it.

Grandma Josephine tried to calm her.

Auntie, please.

We can compensate.

Mr.s.

Akiny cut her off.

We don’t want money.

We want the promise.

Gideon stepped forward.

I will not marry anyone else, he said.

My wife is here.

Mr.s.

Akini finally noticed the beanie properly.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened slightly.

For a second, something flickered across her face.

Confusion, recognition, fear.

Then she composed herself.

“My daughter is coming in,” she said.

“You will see her.

” And that was when Cece walked in.

beautiful sweet smile, soft voice.

She moved straight to a beanie like she wanted peace.

“Hello, sister,” she said gently.

“I don’t want trouble.

I just want to be friends.

” A beanie nodded slowly, uneasy.

Gideon’s shoulders were stiff.

Too stiff.

Cece reached for a glass and began to pour water for a beanie.

Gideon reacted fast.

Too fast.

“Stop!” He snapped.

Everyone froze.

Abini blinked.

Gideon.

Cece looked innocent.

I’m just giving her water.

Gideon’s eyes were sharp.

Leave it.

The tension was heavy.

Then the glass tilted.

Hot water spilled, scolding Abini’s wrist.

Aini cried out softly and jerked back.

Gideon grabbed her immediately, voice rising.

Why didn’t you dodge? Abini stared at him, shocked.

I didn’t know it was hot.

As he held her wrist, his eyes caught something.

a mark.

A red heart-shaped birthark.

Gideon froze.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“No!” Grandma Josephine leaned forward, squinting.

Mr.s.

Akini stepped closer slowly, eyes trembling.

Gideon stared at Abini’s wrist like he was seeing a ghost.

“I remember this,” he said quietly.

Cece had this birthark as a child.

The girl beside Mr.s.

Akini panicked slightly, then smiled too quickly.

I removed mine, she said at a beauty salon.

It was ugly.

Gideon’s eyes hardened.

Grandma Josephine frowned.

But Cece used to say Gideon liked the birthark.

Mr.s.

Akin’s face tightened.

She did.

She loved mangoes, too.

Grandma Josephine shook her head sharply.

No.

Cece was allergic to mangoes.

Mr.s.

Aken snapped her fingers.

Bring mango.

Someone brought sliced mango quickly like they came prepared.

Mr.s.

Akinyami held a piece toward the sweet CC.

Eat, she said.

The girl hesitated.

Then she forced a bite, smiling nervously.

Nothing happened.

Grandma Josephine turned slowly to a beanie.

A beanie? Grandma said softly.

Try.

A beanie’s eyes widened.

Me.

Gideon’s gaze locked on hers.

Please.

Beanie took a tiny bite.

Within seconds, her throat scratched.

Her eyes watered.

She coughed, struggling.

“I I can’t,” she gasped.

Gideon’s face went pale.

Mr.s.

Akini stumbled backward like someone slapped her.

“No,” she whispered.

Grandma Josephine’s voice shook.

“That’s that’s Cece’s allergy.

” Mr.s.

Akini stared at a beanie like she was seeing the child she lost.

Then her voice broke.

My daughter.

The fake Cece stepped back, eyes darting.

Gideon’s voice turned cold again.

Enough, he said.

Well do DNA today.

Dr.

Raymond was cold.

He arrived calm, but his eyes widened when he saw Mr.s.

Akini.

Ma, he said quietly like he was talking to someone he knew.

Mr.s.

Akinymy’s eyes flicked to him.

Raymond, she whispered.

Do it.

The test was done fast.

The weight felt like hours.

Her beanie sat quietly, head spinning.

Gideon stood beside her like a wall.

Grandma Josephine kept praying under her breath.

Mr.s.

Akiny looked like a woman holding her breath after drowning for years.

Then the result came.

Dr.

Raymond looked up, voice steady but emotional.

“Aini is Cecilia Akini,” he said.

“Silence.

” Then Mr.s.

Akini made a sound, half sobb, half gasp, and collapsed into a chair.

My Cece, she cried.

My child.

A beanie stared blankly.

Her mind could not carry it at once.

A missing child.

A birthark.

A mango allergy.

Akini and Dr.

Raymond’s face.

Raymon stepped closer, eyes glossy.

My sister, he whispered.

Aini’s lips trembled.

Before anyone could move, the fake Cece screamed.

No, it’s a lie.

She lunged toward a beanie.

A man stepped in quickly.

Daniel Gideon’s head security.

He grabbed the imposttor and held her back.

She fought like a mad person.

“If I can’t have it, she won’t live,” she screamed.

Daniel tightened his grip.

“Madam, calm down,” he said firmly, then signaled the other guards.

“She’s going to the police.

” The fake Cece was dragged away, screaming curses.

Mr.s.

Zakini walked toward a beanie slowly trembling.

When she reached her, her pride vanished completely.

She held a beanie’s hands and cried.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry.

” Her voice shook as she explained.

There had been an accident when Abini was little.

Confusion, a tragedy, a child lost in the chaos.

Mr.s.

Akini left Nigeria for years, angry at the world, angry at herself, unable to forgive the past.

Then someone claimed they found Cece.

“They were tricked.

” “I’ve been carrying pain,” she cried.

“I didn’t know you were here all this time.

” Abini’s eyes filled.

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t rush into her arms either.

“My mother told me she gave me the Akeni name because of the embroidery on the handkerchief she had found me with.

I didn’t know what it meant then, but I need time,” she whispered.

Mr.s.

Zakini nodded quickly.

Yes, take time.

I will wait.

Even if it takes years, I will wait.

That night, Gideon held Abini gently in their room.

Abini leaned into him like she was tired of holding herself together.

It feels like destiny, she whispered.

Everything.

It’s too much.

Gideon gave a small smile.

Destiny is stressing me, he said, then glanced at her belly.

And these two, they are already competing with me for your attention.

Abini laughed through tears.

“Jalous man,” she whispered.

Gideon’s face softened.

“My wife,” he murmured like he was tasting the words.

“Grandma Josephine, however, did not find it funny.

The next morning, she announced it like a royal decree.

” “From today, you are not going to work again,” Grandma said.

Abini blinked.

Grandma, no argument, Grandma snapped.

You will stay home.

Protect my twins.

Gideon tried to speak.

Grandma turned sharply.

If she sheds one tear because of you, Grandma said, eyes blazing, I will disown you.

Gideon sighed.

Grandma, shut up, Grandma said.

Pregnant women come first.

Abini looked at Gideon helplessly.

Gideon just shook his head slightly like, “Welcome to my life.

” Then Grandma added, “Serious now?” and Gideon, you must honor your mother’s memory properly.

Pay your respects.

Do your duty.

Gideon nodded once.

I remember, he said quietly.

That evening, Gideon did something Abini didn’t expect.

No contract talk, no forced arrangement.

He prepared a proper proposal.

Not for the public, not for grandma, for her.

The house was decorated softly.

candles, flowers, calm music.

Abini was not in the room when it began because she had briefly gone out to handle something personal, pay respects quietly, the way her mother raised her to do.

Her phone died while she was out.

When she returned, Gideon was waiting.

His eyes were dark.

“You disappeared,” he said.

“My phone died,” Abini rushed.

“I didn’t mean to.

” Gideon stepped closer.

You didn’t answer my calls,” he said.

Abini’s voice shook.

“I’m here now.

” Gideon’s jaw tightened, jealousy and relief mixed.

Abini suddenly blurted breathless.

“Let’s get married properly,” Gideon paused.

Then his eyes softened just slightly.

“You think I will forgive you that easily?” he murmured.

A beanie swallowed.

“Gideon?” He leaned closer, voice low and teasing.

You’ll pay for it tonight, he whispered.

Abini’s cheeks burned.

Shameless man, she muttered.

Gideon’s mouth curved.

Romantic punishment.

When Raymond heard, he complained loudly like an older brother who didn’t want to admit he was happy.

“So, I just found my sister and you proposed the next day,” he said, shaking his head.

“Gideon, you have no shame.

” Gideon looked calm.

“I have sense,” he replied.

“I’m correcting my mistake.

” Raymon squinted.

Just don’t bully her.

Gideon snorted.

“Bully?” he repeated.

“It’s a beanie that bullies me now.

” A beanie covered her face, laughing softly.

And in front of the people who truly mattered, Grandma Josephine, Auntie Bose, Raymond, Daniel, Mr.s.

Akini, and a few trusted family staff.

Gideon stood before Abini.

No arrogance, no coldness, just truth.

Abini Akini, he said gently, you entered my life through a mistake.

Abini’s eyes filled.

And yet, Gideon continued, “You have become my blessing.

” He took her hands.

“I don’t want any contract marriage again,” he said.

“I want a real one.

” Abini’s voice shook.

“Gideon.

” He looked at her belly, then back at her face.

“I’m choosing you,” he said.

“Everyday,” Abini swallowed, then nodded slowly.

Yes, she whispered.

I’m here.

Gideon exhaled like he had been holding his breath for months.

Then he smiled, small, real.

Mr.s.

Okoro, he said softly.

Please take care of me from now on.

Abini laughed through tears.

And you too, Mr. Okoro, she whispered.

Gideon leaned in and kissed her gently at first, then deeper like a man finally allowed to be happy.

Grandma Josephine clapped loudly.

“Good!” she shouted.

“Now nobody should stress my granddaughter-in-law again.

” Everyone laughed.

A beanie pulled back, smiling, her forehead resting against Gideon’s.

And in that moment, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

Not because life had become perfect, but because she no longer had to face it alone.