It was Tuesday, and the sun seemed to shine with a new, special brilliance for Anwana.
It was her first day as the Assistant Head Chef at Ade's Oil and Gas.
Tade, ever the doting fiancé, had insisted on picking her and Victor up that morning. He dropped Victor off at school, his heart swelling with pride as he watched the little boy run into the classroom, before driving the rest of the way to the towering headquarters in Ikoyi.
As they arrived, Tade's driver, a stern-faced man in a crisp uniform, hurried down to open the door for them.
Anwana's simple, flowing gown was comfortable, perfect for a long day in the kitchen, but it didn't hide her nervousness.
She clutched her tote bag tightly as they walked toward the entrance, the air around them thick with curious stares.
Surprise, jealousy, and arrogance were etched onto the faces of the employees who watched them from every corner of the lobby.
"Tade, I told you this was a bad idea," she whispered worriedly.
He made it worse by holding her hand firmly in his, a silent proclamation of their bond, and walked into the skyscraper with a confident stride.
The stares intensified, but Tade didn't seem to notice. He was completely focused on her.
"Are you saying you aren't proud of me?" he bent over to whisper, his height making the gesture a gentle, intimate curve over her.
"Oh, no," Anwana said to herself. The last thing she wanted was to be the subject of office gossip on her first day.
Behind them, the whispers were getting louder. "Who is she?" a random employee asked her friend, loud enough for Tade to hear.
"I heard she's the new Assistant Chef, but I don't know if she's dating him."
Tade stopped abruptly, turning on his heel. The women froze, caught in the act.
"Eh... g...o..." one of them stammered, trying to offer a quick, belated greeting.
"Save your greetings," Tade cut in sharply, his voice low and dangerous. "Which department are you? I'll have to see your superior since you can't keep your mouth shut."
The ladies trembled, their faces paling. "Sorry, sir," they whispered before hurrying into a nearby elevator.
Tade scoffed, a quick, dismissive sound. Anwana sighed. "You didn't have to do that, Tade."
He didn't reply, simply punching the button for the top floor. The elevator doors opened, and they walked into the gleaming, silent box.
"My love," he said softly, turning to her. He slowly raised his hand and gently touched her chin.
"Tade, what if someone sees us?" she asked, her eyes darting to the security camera in the corner.
"This is my private elevator," he said, a playful smile on his face. "No one dares to use it."
He leaned in and kissed her softly, a light, sweet kiss that made her heart flutter.
"Office romance," he said, smiling as he moved back, the distance between them feeling impossibly vast.
Anwana, her defenses completely down, couldn't hold back. Her desire to be closer to him was a physical ache.
She reached out, her hands coming to rest lightly on his chest.
"Why'd you pull back?" she whispered, her voice a soft, breathless plea.
His eyes, dark with a familiar intensity, held hers. "I'm a gentleman," he said, the words full of a quiet, profound sincerity. "I won't touch you until we're married."
Anwana was stunned. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Like… seriously?" she asked.
He raised a brow, a silent confirmation.
The look on his face said, of course.
The sincerity of his conviction was more attractive to her than any grand gesture. It spoke to a deep respect that was more meaningful than physical intimacy.
She wanted to pull him close, to thank him for being who he was, but before she could, the elevator doors chimed with a 'stingingggg' sound and opened.
"Wait… Tade, the kitchen is downstairs," she said, her eyes widening in realization.
They stared at each other for a beat, a wave of foolishness washing over them, and then they burst into laughter.
"I'll drop you off," he said, a wide grin on his face.
He walked into his office, dropped his things on his desk, and they headed back to the elevator, this time pressing the button for the kitchen on the ground floor.
The company kitchen was a culinary dream. Gleaming stainless steel countertops stretched the length of the room. The air was clean and smelled of fresh ingredients.
The space was meticulously organized, with rows of state-of-the-art ovens, burners, and industrial-sized refrigerators. In the center, a large prep island provided ample space for creativity. The atmosphere was one of efficiency and precision.
Tade personally introduced Anwana to the Head Chef, a respected veteran named Kunle.
"Chef, this is Anwana, our new Assistant Head Chef. Please take good care of her. She's one of the best."
His words were a clear signal that Anwana was not to be messed with.
***
While Anwana was basking in the glow of her first day, Mr. Bankole was already setting his destructive plan in motion.
The news had gone viral: "Lagos Eligible Billionaire, Tade, Publicly Shows Off His Woman." The comment sections were on fire, some supporting the new couple, some asking for more information, and many spewing vitriol, claiming Anwana wasn't suited for him.
The sheer volume of the news was a constant, stinging reminder to Aisha that she had failed.
Aisha's hands were trembling as she ran into her bathroom, blood dripping from her fingers.
She had compulsively picked at her nails and bitten her fingers until they bled, a nervous habit that had spiraled out of control. She rinsed the thick, red blood from her hands, her body shaking with a mix of rage and despair.
Mr. Bankole, fueled by his daughter's breakdown, couldn't hold back any longer. The resemblance between Victor and Tade had been a constant source of his paranoia.
The fact that Tade was so affectionate with the boy, a detail Aisha had tearfully relayed to him, was the final straw. He would use that affection against him.
He had already sent two thugs, ruthless men who would stop at nothing to get what they needed. One was sent to Victor's crèche, and the other to Tade's office.
At Victor's crèche, the thug, a burly man in a worn jacket, waited patiently.
When the boy was playing in the schoolyard, the thug approached the nanny, feigning concern. "Excuse me, ma," he said, his voice deceptively gentle. "I'm a medic and I'm looking for a boy named Victor.
His family asked me to take a quick blood sample for a routine check-up." He showed a forged ID card and a small medical kit. The unsuspecting nanny, seeing the official-looking kit and the man's calm demeanor, was convinced.
He distracted her with questions about the boy, and in a few quick, practiced movements, he got the blood sample and was gone before she could even process what had happened.
Victor was unharmed, oblivious to the fact that a tiny piece of him had just been stolen.
Meanwhile, at Ade's Oil and Gas, another thug, a sleek, unassuming man disguised as a corporate courier, made his way to Tade's office.
He handed Tade's assistant a fake delivery form, a complicated-looking document that required her full attention. While she was distracted, he moved to Tade's desk. With a single, quick motion, he used a discreet adhesive roller to pick up a few strands of Tade's hair from the back of the chair, slipping them into a small, sealed bag.
Tade, engrossed in a phone call, didn't notice a thing. The thug made a silent, satisfied gesture and walked out, leaving no trace behind.
The pieces were now in place.
Mr. Bankole had what he needed: the DNA samples that he was sure wo
uld link Tade to Victor, a piece of information he was ready to use to shatter Tade's world.