Three weeks since the company crisis.
Three long, pressure-filled weeks since Tade had been dragged across boardroom coals, watched investors retreat, and heard whispers that Ades' Oil & Gas might crumble under his reign.
But this morning, his day began with pepper soup and purpose.
He leaned back in the black leather seat of his G-Wagon, eyes fixed on the mansion gate as it slowly rolled open. His driver glanced at him in the rear-view mirror, awaiting instructions.
Tade waved him off.
"I'll drive myself today."
He hadn't driven in weeks. But today felt different.
Today, he was a man on a mission—to reclaim his legacy, prove doubters wrong, and confront the feeling he'd buried for five years but never truly let go.
As he cruised down Alexander Road, windows down, breeze slipping in like soft jazz, he was grinning.
Anwana.
She had left the mansion two nights ago after preparing dinner. All she'd said was "Good night," but that two-word farewell still sat warm on his chest like rose-scented smoke.
He hadn't slept.
He saw her every time he blinked—the way her laugh trembled with restraint, the way her eyes lingered like old lyrics, the way her presence made even his mother's complaints feel distant.
She still had feelings for him. He could feel it in his bones.
---
Ades' Oil & Gas Headquarters – Victoria Island
The boardroom was tense. The last meeting had ended with laughter—not the kind you want in a boardroom, but the mocking kind.
"You think short-run projects will impress the shareholders?"
That was Bamidele, the COO, smirking, full of disdain.
"Pipe dreams, Tade. Pipe dreams."
But today? Today the air was different. Heavy with curiosity. Electric.
Tade stepped in wearing a crisp navy kaftan. Understated. Regal. Dangerous.
"Let's begin."
His assistant pulled up the slides. Numbers danced on screen—progress metrics, contract outlines, signed approvals.
"The Lagos pipeline maintenance deal is active. Returns already trickling in."
"Local distribution in Port Harcourt—Phase Two initiated."
"Short-term lease in Ghana—we just signed a sub-contract. International traction is in view."
Silence.
The CFO—well, everyone just called him Segun—cleared his throat.
"Not magic… but it's progress."
Tade smiled, eyes never leaving Bamidele.
"No. It's leadership."
And this time?
The boardroom clapped.
He was back.
---
Ikeja – 7:00 PM
The road to Ikeja glowed with sunset gold as Tade pulled up in front of a small bungalow with pale yellow walls, hibiscus flowers hanging lazily in front.
There she was. Anwana.
In jeans and a blouse, scarf tied around her hair, she looked like calm and chaos all at once. Her son, Victor, clung to her leg, playful and sleepy.
She noticed him and blinked.
"You again?"
"I said I'd drop you off today."
"You didn't remind me."
"Didn't think I had to."
She rolled her eyes but entered the car with Victor.
"Just drop us. He needs rest."
Inside the car, the silence was louder than Lagos traffic.
He kept glancing at her—her lips, the way she clasped her fingers. She kept looking out the window, pretending she didn't feel the heat building between them.
"I missed you yesterday," he said.
"Tade…"
"You did too. I know it."
He grinned, softly. "Don't deny it."
She didn't reply.
When they reached her compound, she reached for the door. He grabbed her hand.
"Wait."
She froze.
He leaned in.
The kiss was slow. Soft. Heavy. Like firewood heat under party jollof. Her lips trembled. She kissed him back—once, twice—then pulled away like her chest was on fire.
"This can't happen, Tade. Don't pull this trick again."
She rushed out with Victor, not looking back.
He leaned against the car seat and exhaled, a wild grin on his face.
"I think I just messed up… or maybe that goodnight meant more than I thought."
---
Ades Mansion – Ikoyi
Remi Adebanjo sipped her iced zobo, eyes sharp over the rim of the glass. Something wasn't adding up.
Her son was smiling. Smiling. Reading company reports with jazz playing in the background. Wearing cologne at night. Whistling.
"What's going on with you?"
"I'm just… focused."
"Focused? You haven't looked this pleased since uni days."
"Can't I be happy?"
"You can. Especially now that Aisha is coming to stay with us."
His face dropped.
"What?"
"Her father's traveling. She needs family around."
"She has relatives."
"She's like a daughter to me."
"I'm not marrying her."
"Not yet."
---
Phone Call – The Next Day
Tade was in his office reviewing a fresh investor email when Aisha called.
"Hi baby," she purred. "Still ignoring Daddy's offer?"
"Busy, Aisha."
"These short-run projects won't fix your brand. Not in the eyes of real investors."
"And what are you suggesting?"
"Work with us. Marry me. Everything becomes easier."
Silence.
"You want to marry me," he said coldly, "but you don't believe in me?"
"Tade, I didn't mean it like that—"
"You meant it exactly like that. That's why this whatever this is...will never happen."
He ended the call. Slammed the phone down.
"What is this girl even plotting now? I'm done with all this nonsense."
---
Friday – Ades Boardroom
Buzz. Energy. Progress.
One investor emailed:
"Good moves. Not there yet. But I'm watching."
Tade closed his laptop.
Let them watch.
Let them witness his rise.
And if they looked closely, they'd see something else happening:
A man healing.
A man burning quietly with love.
A man no longer just building pipelines—but building something in his chest too.
– That Night
He picked Anwana up again. She tried to act normal. Unbothered.
But in the car, he pulled her close. Stared into her eyes.
"I don't know what happened five years ago. But I know what's happening now. And I want more of it."
She didn't kiss him.
She just whispered:
"Goodnight."
And ran into her compound again, clutching her bag, rushing like fire chased her.
But this time, at the gate—she paused.
She turned. Just for a second.
And Tade? He saw it.
She wanted more too.