HER LOVE BETWEEN LUXURY AND DANGER
img img HER LOVE BETWEEN LUXURY AND DANGER img Chapter 4 WHERE CONFUSION BEGINS
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Chapter 7 DANGEROUS TIES img
Chapter 8 A HEART THAT DOESN'T HAVE TIME FOR LOVE img
Chapter 9 RICO OBSESION BEGINS img
Chapter 10 BILLIONAIRE'S CURIOSITY img
Chapter 11 WORKPLACE SPARKS img
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Chapter 4 WHERE CONFUSION BEGINS

(Evelyn POV)

The next morning arrives too early. My alarm screams at 4:30 AM, and I drag myself out of the thin mattress I share with Salie. She's sprawled across three-quarters of it, snoring softly.

I dress in the dark: my cleanest jeans, a simple blouse, my work shoes that I've glued back together twice. I rebraid my hair into a neater style, using the cracked mirror propped against the wall.

In the kitchen, I boil water for garri(cassava flakes that will serve as breakfast). Mama shuffles in, tying her wrapper.

"You are going to work early," she observes.

"I want to stop by the hospital first. Check on your test results."

"Evelyn, that man said he will send the results-"

"I know, Mama. But I want to see them myself." I pour hot water over the garri, stirring until it forms a thick paste. "I don't like depending on people too much."

Mama's eyes soften. "My stubborn girl. You got it from your dad."

We don't talk about dad often. He died when I was twelve(malaria that we couldn't afford to treat properly). The memory sits like a stone in my chest.

"Eat something," Mama insists, pushing a bowl of groundnuts toward me.

I eat mechanically, my mind already racing through the day ahead. Hospital. Work. Market shift in the evening if Mama feels strong enough to watch the shop alone.

The first bus is crowded but I manage to squeeze in, standing pressed against other early-morning workers. We're all exhausted, all chasing survival, all too tired to even make eye contact.

The hospital is quieter at 6 AM. I find Dr. Okoro at the nurses' station, looking like he hasn't slept.

"Miss Adesua." He recognizes me immediately. "Your mother's results are ready. I was going to call you-"

"What do they say?"

He gestures to his office(a small room that smells like coffee and stress). He pulls up results on a battered computer.

"Her blood pressure is manageable with medication, which is good news. However..." He pauses, and that pause makes my stomach drop. "We found something concerning. Her kidney function is declining."

The room tilts slightly. "Declining how?"

"Not critical yet, but it needs monitoring. She'll need regular check-ups, a strict diet, and these medications." He hands me a prescription(a long list of drug names I can't pronounce).

"How much will all this cost?"

He won't meet my eyes. "The medications alone will be about twenty-five thousand monthly. The check-ups, every two weeks, about ten thousand each time."

Forty-five thousand naira. Monthly.

I make thirty-five thousand from Sterling Towers. Another fifteen from the market shop on good months.

The math doesn't work.

"Is there... are there cheaper alternatives?" My voice sounds distant.

"These are already the generic versions." Dr. Okoro's expression is sympathetic. "Miss Adesua, I know this is difficult. But your mother's health can't be compromised. Without proper treatment, this could progress to complete kidney failure."

Complete kidney failure. The words echo in my head.

"How long do I have? To figure out the money?"

"She needs to start the medication this week. Sooner is better."

I nod mechanically, take the prescription, thank him, and walk out in a daze.

Outside, the morning sun is already hot. Lagos waking up, indifferent to my crisis. I sit on a bench outside the hospital entrance, staring at the prescription in my hands.

Forty-five thousand monthly.

I could pick up more shifts. But where? I'm already working six days a week, sixteen hours on some days.

I could ask Leo-

No. He's already paid eighty thousand. I can't keep going to him with my hand out like a beggar.

I could ask Rico-

I don't even know who he really is.

My phone buzzes. Leo.

Leo: "I've seen your mother's results. We need to talk. Can you come to my office before your shift?"

My pride bristles. He's seen them already? The hospital sent them to him first?

But pride doesn't pay for kidney medication.

Me: "What time?"

Leo: "Now, if possible. I'll have security expecting you."

I check the time. Seven AM. My shift doesn't start until eight.

Me: "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

I catch a bus to Victoria Island, my mind numb. The morning traffic is already building(Lagos choking on its own growth).

Sterling Towers looks different in the early morning light. Glass and steel reflecting the sunrise, looking like something from a different planet.

Security waves me through when I give my name. The elevator to the executive floor feels surreal(I'm usually cleaning it, not riding it as a guest).

Leo's assistant:a crisp woman named Bimpe who usually ignores cleaners actually smiles at me.

"Miss Adesua. Mr. Sterling is expecting you. Go right in."

The double doors to his office are already open.

Leo sits at his massive desk, but he stands when I enter. He's in another perfect suit(this one charcoal gray).

"Eve. Thank you for coming." He gestures to the chairs facing his desk. "Please, sit."

I sit, clutching my bag. The prescription crinkles inside.

He doesn't sit behind his desk. Instead, he takes the chair beside mine, angling it so we're facing each other. Equal height. Deliberate.

"I've reviewed your mother's results," he begins.

"I know. Dr. Okoro told me."

"Then you know she needs ongoing treatment. Expensive treatment."

I nod, not trusting my voice.

Leo leans forward, elbows on his knees. "I want to help."

"You already have helped. More than enough-"

"Eve." His eyes pin me in place. "Let me finish. I want to establish a medical account for your mother. Enough to cover her treatments, medications, and check-ups for the next two years."

My breath catches. "That's... that's over a million naira."

"One point eight million, by my calculation." He says it like it's nothing. Like that's not more money than I'll see in five years.

"Why?" The word bursts out of me. "Why would you do this? You don't know me. You don't know her. This doesn't make sense!"

"Doesn't it have to make sense?"

"Yes! Everything makes sense! Nothing is free! So what do you want?" I'm standing now, agitation driving me to my feet. "What's the price? Because there's always a price!"

Leo stands too, and suddenly we're too close, the air between us charged with something I don't understand.

"You want to know what I want?" His voice is low, controlled, but there's something burning underneath. "I want to see you not drowning. I want you to have one less thing crushing you. I want-"

He stops abruptly, jaw clenching.

"What?" I press. "You want what?"

"I don't know." He runs a hand through his hair,the first uncontrolled gesture I've seen from him. "I saw you in my conference room two days ago, and something in me... shifted. Then your mother collapsed and I saw you terrified, and I knew I couldn't just walk away. And now I see these results and I know you're calculating how to afford it, how to sacrifice more, how to stretch yourself even thinner, and I-"

He breaks off again, turning away.

"I can't watch that," he finishes quietly. "I have resources. You need resources. It's simple mathematics."

"It's not simple." My voice shakes. "It's complicated and confusing and I don't understand why a man like you cares about a woman like me."

He turns back, and the look in his eyes steals my breath.

"Neither do I," he admits. "But I do. So let me help. No strings. No expectations. Just... let me do this."

I want to say no. Pride demands it. Independence requires it.

But Mama's life hangs in the balance, and pride is a luxury I can't afford.

"I'll pay you back," I whisper. "Every kobo. It might take years, but I'll pay you back."

"Eve-"

"That's the condition. I accept your help, but it's a loan. I'm not a charity case."

Something like respect flickers in his eyes. "Fine. It's a loan. Interest-free, payment plan to be determined later."

"Much later," I add.

"Agreed." He extends his hand. "Deal?"

I look at his hand(large, strong, offering me salvation I don't understand).

I take it.

His grip is firm, warm. He doesn't let go immediately.

"Thank you," I manage.

"You're welcome." He releases my hand slowly. "I'll have my accountant set up the medical account today. You'll have a card you can use at any hospital or pharmacy."

"Leo-Mr. Sterling-"

"Leo."

"Leo," I correct, his name still feeling strange on my tongue. "Why are you really doing this?"

He's quiet for a long moment, studying me with those intense eyes.

"Maybe because the world breaks enough people," he finally says. "And I'd like to stop it from breaking one more."

It's the most honest thing he's said, and it cracks something in my chest.

Before I can respond, his office phone buzzes. He glances at it, frowning.

"I have a board meeting in ten minutes." He looks almost... reluctant? "But I meant what I said. If you need anything-"

"I know. Thank you. Really."

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me at the door.

"Eve?"

I look back.

He's standing by his desk, backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking every inch the billionaire CEO. But there's something vulnerable in his expression.

"Be careful going home tonight," he says. "This city can be dangerous."

It's almost the exact same thing Rico said last night.

Two dangerous men telling me to be careful.

The irony isn't lost on me.

"I will," I promise, and slip out the door.

In the hallway, I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

One point eight million naira.

For Mama.

From a man I barely know.

Who looks at me like I'm precious.

My phone buzzes. An unknown number, but I recognize the pattern from last night.

Rico: "Morning, Eve. Just checking if you make it to work safely?"

I stare at the message, then at Leo's office door behind me.

Two men. Two offers of protection. Two sets of eyes that see me.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this.

But as I head to the supply closet to start my shift, Mama's prescription no longer feels like a death sentence.

It feels like a reprieve.

And the beginning of something I don't yet understand.

            
            

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