Chapter 2 THE OFFER

Zara didn't believe in fairytales. But she also didn't believe in coincidences-at least not until the night she met Tari Amadi twice in one hour. The first time, they only locked eyes briefly across the ballroom. He had that intense stare like he could see through her clothes and her fears at once. She quickly looked away, feeling small under the shimmer of the chandelier and the weight of her cheap heels. The second time, they collided. Literally. It happened outside the main hall, near the restroom hallway. Zara, tired of the noise and fancy laughter, had gone to get some air.

Tari, apparently trying to escape too, turned a corner at the same time she did-and bang. Her clutch fell. His phone slipped from his hand. And for two seconds, they stared at each other like two strangers who were never meant to meet-but fate had other plans. "I'm sorry," she said first, kneeling quickly to grab her bag. "No, my fault," he replied coolly, crouching to pick up his phone. They rose together, a bit awkward. Silence stretched. "You're not like the others here," he finally said. Zara blinked. "What do you mean?" You're not trying to be seen. Most people in there are performing." He paused. "You're observing." She folded her arms. "How do you know I'm not just pretending to be mysterious?" That earned the faintest smile from him. "Are you?" "Maybe." There was something magnetic about his presence. Not in the obvious, flirty way. But in the way his calmness made you want to ask what he was really thinking. He wasn't flashy. Just... focused. He tilted his head. "What do you do?" Zara hesitated. "I'm a designer." "Successful?" "Trying." He nodded, as if he respected the honesty. "You're not one of those people who smile politely while dying inside." Zara laughed, and it felt foreign in her mouth. "Wow. You really don't know how to do small talk, do you?" "No. Waste of time." The silence returned, but it wasn't uncomfortable this time. Then came the question that changed everything. "Are you in a relationship?" Zara stared. "Excuse me?" Tari sighed, as if annoyed with himself. "That came out wrong. Let me explain." "You better," she said, narrowing her eyes. He stepped back, running a hand over his beard. "Look... I need someone to pretend to be my fiancée for a few weeks. Six to be exact." Zara choked on her breath. "You what?""I know how it sounds. But it's purely a business arrangement." She looked at him like he had lost his mind. "So, what... I become your handbag? Attend dinners? Smile for the press?" "And get paid. Handsomely." Zara folded her arms, stunned. "Why would you need a fake fiancée? Are you trying to make an ex jealous or...?" "No. It's complicated." His jaw tightened. "My grandfather left conditions for accessing his inheritance. One of them is that I must be engaged to someone he'd approve of. My family is watching." "And I'm supposed to play dress-up and fool your entire family?" "You'd be paid ten million naira. Half now. Half after." Zara's heart skipped. Ten. Million? Her brain screamed "yes" but her pride whispered "no." She wasn't a toy. But then again, she was a broke fashion designer facing eviction, with dreams and no fuel. She tilted her head. "Why me?" "Because you're not in my world. That makes you unpredictable-and believable. No one would expect me to choose someone like you." Zara arched a brow. "Wow. You really know how to flatter a girl." Tari gave a tired smile. "That wasn't meant to insult you. It's the truth." Zara looked at him for a long second, then laughed. "This is mad." "Yes," he agreed. "But are you interested?" She stared at him. Zara didn't answer right away. She left the gala that night with Tari's business card in her purse and chaos in her chest. Ten million naira was no joke. It wasn't just rent-it was studio space, equipment, new clients, a rebrand... a new life. But could she really fake a relationship? With someone like *him*? Tari Amadi wasn't just rich. He was intimidating. Controlled. Emotionless. She couldn't read him-and that alone was risky. The next morning, Zara stood in her workshop staring at the card like it was cursed. She hadn't told Tara yet. Her friend would either scream or call him a "demonic Yahoo CEO." But something inside her whispered: *Call him.* So she did. *** They met again two days later at a private lounge. Not public. No cameras. Just them. Tari arrived first-suit, quiet confidence, and a laptop bag. Zara came in jeans and a blouse, determined not to be intimidated. He nodded as she sat down. "No cameras," she said. "Good start." He passed her a document. "The contract." Zara blinked. "You drew up an actual contract?" "I don't do anything without structure." She flipped through the pages. Everything was there: timeline (6 weeks), roles (appear at two family events, a weekend trip, and some social media posts), and payment breakdown. "What's this clause about privacy boundaries?" she asked, raising a brow. Tari leaned back. "It means I won't pry into your personal life, and you won't pry into mine. We don't pretend when no one's watching." "No sleeping in the same room?" "Only when necessary-and with boundaries." Zara folded her arms. "And what if your family wants us to kiss? Or act all couple-y in public?" "We'll do what's needed for the illusion. Nothing more." She closed the file slowly. "Why not just hire an actress?" "Too polished. You're authentic. And less likely to leak this to the press for attention." Zara stared at him. "You really don't trust people, do you?" "I trust contracts," he said simply. For a moment, silence hovered between them. Zara broke it. "Fine. I'll do it." Tari didn't smile. He simply nodded. "We begin tomorrow. My driver will pick you up at 8 a.m." *** Zara didn't sleep much that night. She packed three outfits, two heels, and a nervous heart. She told Tara everything-well, almost everything. "You're mad," Tara said. "But if he wires even one million first, I'll personally escort you to all family functions." "Half first. Five million," Zara whispered. Tara clutched her chest dramatically. Zara laughed, but inside, she still wasn't sure she had made the right decision. But she needed that money-and something inside her was ready for this chaos. *** Day one began with a black SUV and a silent driver named Kunle. Zara dressed in a smart white dress, minimal makeup, and her boldest perfume. When she stepped out of the car in front of Tari's mansion in Ikoyi, she suddenly felt very small. Marble floors. Tall glass windows. A gate that looked like it had its own security system. Tari opened the door himself. "You're on time." "You don't say hello?" "Hello." She rolled her eyes. He led her into the living room. "We have two hours before the family brunch." Zara nodded. "Okay. So what's the plan?" He handed her a document labeled *Relationship Profile.* It contained a whole fake backstory: how they met, how long they've been dating, favorite memories, favorite songs, even a fake fight they "recovered" from. Zara blinked. "You're joking." "No." "You gave us a playlist?" "Yes. Memorize it." She dropped the file on the couch. "You're insane." "You agreed to this." "I didn't know I was signing up for a screenplay." Tari didn't argue. He just sipped his black coffee. Zara walked to the window. "What happens if someone finds out?" "They won't." "And if they do?" Tari turned. His eyes locked with hers. "You walk away with your money. I handle the rest." His voice was calm-but there was something final about it. *** The brunch was hosted at Tari's uncle's house. When they arrived, his entire extended family was already present-around fifteen people, all dressed like it was a wedding. Zara gripped his arm. "Relax," he whispered. "Smile. Remember the playlist." She elbowed him lightly. His aunt-a plump, cheerful woman-spotted them first. "Ahh! Tari! And this must be the *fiancée*?" Zara smiled warmly. "Yes, ma. I'm Zara." Everyone turned. She became the center of attention. Cousins whispered. His grandmother-stern-faced and eagle-eyed-stared like she was scanning for hidden sins. Tari didn't flinch. He held her waist gently. Played his part perfectly. He introduced her as his heart, his "quiet peace," and the woman who changed his life. Zara almost choked on her wine. But she played along-laughing at his dry jokes, letting her head rest slightly on his shoulder, even holding his hand under the table. When one of his cousins asked, "So when did you know he was the one?" Zara smiled and said, "When he sat through an entire Nollywood movie with me and didn't complain once." The table erupted in laughter. Tari leaned in and whispered, "That was smooth." "Thank you. I improvise well under pressure." * Later, as they drove back to his house, silence filled the car. Zara finally said, "That grandmother of yours scares me." "She scares everyone," Tari replied. "You lied smoothly back there." "So did you." Zara smiled, then sighed. "I still can't believe I'm doing this." "Are you regretting it?" She paused. "No. Not yet." He turned his head slightly, watching her. "Good. Because we've only just begun."