Chapter 4 LEONARDO POV

I dialed my assistant, telling him to cancel all of my meetings for today. Then, I drove to my family mansion to see my grandfather, who had summoned me.

I sped along the winding roads leading to the mansion, my mind raced with curiosity . What could have prompted my grandfather to summon me so suddenly?

Upon reaching the grand entrance, I parked my car and made my way to the imposing front doors. The mansion stood tall and majestic, its ornate architecture reflecting the history and legacy of my family. I pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the vast foyer, greeted by the familiar scent of polished wood and nostalgia.

Reaching the door of my grandfather's study, I hesitated for a moment, my hand poised to knock. I took a deep breath, gathering my composure, before finally tapping lightly on the door. "Grandfather, it's me," I called out, my

"Come in, my dear," his voice responded from within. I turned the doorknob and stepped into the study, my eyes immediately drawn to my grandfather sitting behind his antique mahogany desk. He appeared older and somewhat frail, his silver hair contrasting sharply against his weathered face.

"Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. I obliged, settling into the comfortable leather upholstery, and waited for him to speak.

"Thank you for coming, my dear," he began,

Leonardo, you will be getting married in two months' time to the granddaughter of an old friend of mine. You need to stop frolicking up and down."

"What? Grandpa, I am not ready to settle down, let alone get married to someone I don't know."

"You need to settle down, start your own family, and produce the next heir of the family."

"Grandpa, I am not ready to get married yet."

"Leonardo, you have no say in this. This marriage has been arranged since we were fourteen years old. I made a pact with my friend that our grandkids would get married."

I stormed out of the mansion, my anger fueling every step I took. The ultimatum given by Grandpa echoed in my mind, replaying like a broken record. "You have to get married to Damilola, or you step down from your position as the CEO of DiCaprio Global Inc. You have just one week to make your decision."

The weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. The thought of relinquishing my role as CEO, built painstakingly over years of hard work, was unbearable. But the alternative wasn't any more appealing. The idea of entering into a loveless marriage just to secure my position felt like a betrayal of my own principles.

As I paced back and forth, contemplating my options, I couldn't help but think about my cousin Felipe. He had always been ambitious, eager to prove himself within the family business. If I were to step down, he would undoubtedly jump at the chance to take over as CEO. The thought of Felipe's exuberance only added to my frustration.

With each passing moment, the pressure mounted. The impending deadline loomed over me, urging me to make a decision. I knew I couldn't delay any longer. The fate of the company, my reputation, and the legacy of my family were at stake.

*****

It's been five days since I left the mansion after receiving the information about my forced marriage from Grandpa. I paced around my room, my mind consumed by the weight of the decision I had to make. The ultimatum given to me by my grandfather echoed in my thoughts: if I refused to marry the girl he wanted, I would be stripped of my inheritance.

I have no choice but to get married to whoever this Damilola girl was. The circumstances that led me to this point were far from ideal, but it seemed like the only option left for me.

"I dialed my grandfather and told him about my decision.

"Hello Grandpa, I have made up my mind to get married to her."

"Okay, son, that's great."

"Please be at the mansion on Friday for dinner to announce your agreement to get married to Damilola. The entire family will be there."

"So we can start to preparation for our trip to Nigeria."

"Nigeria?! Grandpa, the girl I'm getting married to is from Nigeria?" I asked, my voice filled with surprise and confusion.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before my grandfather responded. "Yes, my dear boy. Damilola is from Nigeria.

"Alright, grandpa, I will be at the mansion on Friday."

After talking to grandpa, I dialed my best friend, Ryan, to tell him about my predicament.

"Wow! That's crazy, bro. You're getting married in two months. That means you have to quit your playboy lifestyle and become a faithful and dutiful husband," he laughed at me.

"I ain't quitting my playboy ways for any marriage. I'm only getting married to her because grandfather gave me an ultimatum of stepping down as CEO.

As the conversation continued, Ryan chuckled and replied, "Damn bro, she is also from Nigeria? That's crazy! Nigeria girls are indeed known for their stunning beauty, nice curves, sexy hips, and crazy back sides."

I could imagine a smile forming on his face right now. He had always admired the beauty of Nigerian women, recognizing their unique features and confident presence. However, he also knew that physical appearance was just one aspect of a person's overall beauty.

"I am definitely going with you to Nigeria. I can't let you have all the fun with girls over there alone before you tie the knot."

"I wasn't planning on going to Nigeria without my best man"

"Alright, man," Ryan replied with a smile. "I'll catch up with you tonight."

I headed out to the club with my friends for a few drinks, seeking a temporary escape from the weight of my decision. The pulsating music and vibrant atmosphere provided a much-needed distraction, allowing me to momentarily set aside my worries.

As we made our way to the club, laughter and conversation filled the air.

As I sat in the dimly lit VIP section of the club, I anxiously awaited the arrival of the stripper I had paid for. The music thumped loudly, drowning out my racing thoughts, and the crowd's boisterous laughter filled the air. I had hoped that this personal show would be a temporary escape, a brief respite from the overwhelming pressure of my arranged marriage.

Suddenly, the heavy velvet curtains parted, and a figure emerged from behind them. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her confidence radiating with every step she took. Her long, flowing hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. She wore an enticing outfit that left little to the imagination, adorned with sequins that shimmered under the club's neon lights.

The music shifted, seamlessly transitioning into a sultry melody, and the stripper began her performance, swaying her body with an effortless grace. Her movements were hypnotic, captivating everyone in the room. As I watched her, my mind gradually shifted away from thoughts of my arranged marriage, and I found myself immersed in the moment.