Chapter 8 Dinner with Lions

Two days after the press storm, Fredrick told her they had a dinner to attend.

"Important people" he said while adjusting his cufflinks. "Some investors, politicians, and some old friends."

"Friends?" Cynthia-Rose asked, sitting in front of the mirror while a stylist fixed her hair. "Or competitors pretending to smile?"

He glanced at her reflection. "That's the same thing."

She gave a dry laugh. "At least you're honest."

The event was at a private residence in the Island. The kind of house that didn't just show wealth but screamed legacy. Tall gates, clean lawns with cars parked in perfect lines.

As they stepped out, cameras flashed again, though fewer this time. Inside, the air smelled like perfume and expensive food. Soft music played in the background.

Heads turned immediately.

Cynthia-Rose felt it, that silent scanning. Women assessing her dress, her jewelry, her posture. Men calculating and smiling along.

Fredrick's hand rested lightly at her back again.

"Relax" he murmured.

"I am relaxed" she replied, even though her fingers were cold.

An older woman in gold lace approached them with a wide smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Chief Fredrick" she said warmly. "And this must be the young lady."

"Yes," he replied calmly. "This is Cynthia-Rose."

The woman's eyes swept over her slowly. "You're very brave, my dear."

Cynthia-Rose smiled politely. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

The woman chuckled. "Because not every girl can carry this kind of attention."

"I'm not carrying it alone." Cynthia-Rose said gently.

The woman's smile tightened just slightly before she excused herself.

Fredrick leaned closer. "Good answer."

"She wasn't complimenting me" Cynthia-Rose muttered.

"No" he agreed. "She wasn't."

They moved deeper into the room. Conversations flowed, but she could feel the undercurrent curiosity mixed with judgment.

At one point, Fredrick was pulled aside by a group of men discussing business. Cynthia-Rose stood alone for a moment, holding her glass, pretending to be interested in the artwork on the wall.

"You look lost."

She turned.

A tall man in his early forties stood beside her. Confident smile, expensive watch and sharp eyes.

"I'm not." she replied calmly.

He nodded. "Of course. I'm Kunle Adebayo."

The name sounded familiar. She had seen it in business headlines before.

"Cynthia-Rose" she said.

"Oh, I know" he replied with a soft chuckle.

There was something about his tone she didn't like.

"You've caused quite a wave" he continued.

"That wasn't my intention." she said.

"It never is" he replied smoothly.

She kept her expression neutral. "And what is your intention, Mr. Adebayo?"

His smile widened slightly. "Curiosity."

"About what?"

"About how a young woman like you adjusts to this level of pressure."

She held his gaze. "Same way anyone does. One breath at a time."

He studied her for a second, then leaned a little closer. "Be careful."

Her body stiffened. "Of what?"

"Of believing everything is as stable as it looks." he said quietly.

Before she could respond, Fredrick appeared beside her.

"Kunle" Fredrick said evenly.

"Chief" Kunle replied, smile still in place. "We were just talking."

"I'm sure you were." Fredrick said calmly.

The tension between the two men was subtle but heavy. Not loud, not dramatic. Just sharp.

Kunle glanced at Cynthia-Rose one more time. "Enjoy the evening." he said before walking away.

She exhaled slowly.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Competition" Fredrick replied.

"He warned me."

"About?"

"That things aren't stable."

Fredrick's expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened slightly. "He enjoys planting doubt."

"Is there doubt to plant?" she asked quietly.

He turned to face her fully. "Do you trust me?"

The question caught her off guard.

"I..." She hesitated.

He noticed.

"That hesitation" he said softly, "is exactly what men like Kunle look for."

She crossed her arms. "Trust is not automatic."

"No" he agreed. "It's built."

"Then don't expect it to appear overnight."

His lips curved slightly. "I don't."

For the rest of the evening, she stayed close to him. Not because she was afraid, but because she was observing the way people addressed him. How conversations shifted when he joined. The quiet respect and hidden tension.

This wasn't just wealth. It was power.

*****

On the drive home, the silence between them felt different. Not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.

"You handled yourself well tonight." he said finally.

"I was tested?" she replied.

"Yes."

"And I passed?"

He glanced at her. "You didn't flinch."

She leaned back in her seat. "I wanted to."

He gave a small nod. "That's normal."

After a moment, she spoke again. "Who is Kunle Adebayo really?"

Fredrick's jaw tightened slightly. "A man who believes I stand in his way."

"Of what?"

"Expansion, contracts and Influence."

"And now?" she asked.

"Now he believes you are my distraction."

She looked out the window at the moving city lights. "So I'm a weakness."

"You are visible" he corrected.

"That's not the same thing?"

"No" he said quietly. "Weakness is something I hide. You are something I chose."

The words lingered in the air.

She didn't respond, but her chest felt tight again, not from fear this time, but from the weight of being chosen in a world where everything seemed calculated.

When they reached the house, she stepped out of the car slowly.

"Fredrick" she called before he could walk ahead.

He turned.

"If someone tries to use me against you" she said carefully, "will you protect me? Or protect your empire?"

He didn't answer immediately.

He walked closer until he stood in front of her.

"I built my empire alone" he said quietly. "If I lose it, I can build again."

Her heart skipped.

"But if I allow harm to come to what is mine," he continued, voice steady, "that is failure."

She held his gaze. "And what am I?"

His eyes softened slightly.

"You are not a pawn." he said. "So don't let anyone move you like one."

She nodded slowly.

But as she walked upstairs that night, one thought followed her.

In a room full of lions, survival was not about being the loudest.

It was about knowing when you were being circled.