The first time Majek saw Lami Akins Goriola, it was like watching thunder wear designer shoes.
The man didn't just enter the building—he announced himself without speaking. SMG Conglomerate's front doors slid open, and the air changed. A man in a charcoal trench coat stepped inside with a presence that made security guards stand straighter and junior staff suddenly remember to lower their voices.
His walk was slow, confident—calculated. His skin was smooth like it had never been touched by Lagos sun, and his cologne? It didn't just smell expensive; it warned you not to ask the price.
Majek, standing in the corner of the tenth-floor corridor, held a tray of signed documents when he noticed the sudden hush fall over the room. His eyes found the source of it—and then locked.
Lami.
He didn't need an introduction. Everyone knew the name. The heir of the Goriola empire. The boy who disappeared abroad for a decade. The man returning now to take what had always been whispered as his by "agreement."
And the agreement had a name:
Agnes.
Majek didn't like the way Lami looked at people. Like they were options, not individuals.
Especially Agnes.
He watched it from afar: the subtle way Lami's hand lingered on her shoulder a moment too long during introductions. The way his laugh seemed to demand her smile. The way he spoke for her in boardrooms she used to dominate alone.
At first, Majek told himself it was none of his business.
But by the end of the week, he couldn't stay silent.
It started with whispers.
"I heard he's back for marriage talks."
"They say Mr. Smith and Mr. Akins swore an oath long ago."
"She doesn't look happy."
"Of course not. You'd be upset too if your future husband treats you like furniture."
Majek kept his head down. He worked harder than ever. But his eyes followed Agnes when she walked past—not because he was obsessed, but because she looked... different now.
Tired.
Trapped.
Like a lioness in a glass cage.
One afternoon, while he was filing an internal memo in the executive suite, he heard raised voices.
Mr. Smith's door was slightly ajar. Agnes and her father were inside. Majek paused—he shouldn't eavesdrop, but her voice pierced him.
"You promised me choice, Daddy! You said I'd never be sold for legacy!"
"Lower your voice," Mr. Smith growled. "This is not about selling you. It's about honoring loyalty. Akins gave up his shares for this—for you."
Agnes sounded on the verge of breaking.
"And what if I don't love him? What if I never will?"
"Then pretend until you do. You're not a child, Agnes."
Majek's throat tightened.
He backed away from the door silently.
That night, as he left the building, he saw her.
Agnes stood near the parking lot, arms crossed, staring at nothing. Her blazer was off, heels in hand, hair untied. For the first time, she looked human.
Majek didn't mean to interrupt. But something in her face—something hollow—drew him forward.
"Ma'am?" he said quietly.
She didn't flinch. Didn't look at him. "You don't have to call me that. Everyone here does."
He hesitated. "Agnes?"
That got her attention. She turned.
Her eyes scanned his face like she was reading a confession he hadn't written yet.
"Majek, right?"
He nodded, surprised she remembered.
She exhaled, voice softer. "I don't know why I'm still here."
He wanted to say, Because this company needs you.
He wanted to say, Because I see you.
Instead, he said nothing.
She turned back to the sky. "Do you believe in destiny, Majek?"
He paused. "I believe people sometimes use it to avoid choosing."
That made her smile.
For the first time in days.
And just like that, a thread was tied—thin, fragile, but real.
Meanwhile…
In a hotel suite in Ikoyi, Lami Goriola sipped from a whiskey glass and stared at the skyline.
His father's voice still rang in his head.
"Don't come back without her. We gave up too much for this alliance. That girl is your door to a throne."
Lami didn't care about legacy.
But he did care about power. And Agnes was the key.
He'd tried charm. It barely worked. He'd tried pressure. It cracked her, but not enough.
Now, he was running out of patience.
He picked up his phone and called a private investigator.
"I want everything on a man named Majekodunmi Adebayo. Works at SMG. Fast."
Back at SMG – One Week Later
Majek didn't know how or why it started.
But things began to shift.
Documents disappeared from his desk. A client report he submitted "never arrived." An anonymous complaint was filed that he was "overstepping boundaries."
He was called to HR twice in three days.
Each time, his heart pounded like a guilty man—but he was innocent.
And then it happened.
Late one evening, he returned to the office to pick up a forgotten flash drive. As he entered the hallway, he heard something.
Crying.
Agnes.
He followed the sound to her office.
She was sitting behind her desk, face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling.
Majek hesitated—then knocked gently.
She looked up. Her eyes were swollen. Mascara streaked. No armor left.
"What happened?" he asked.
She hesitated.
Then she stood up, walked around the desk, and collapsed into his arms.
"I can't do this anymore," she whispered. "I feel like property."
Majek's body froze. Then slowly, he wrapped his arms around her.
He didn't say a word. Just held her. The way she needed.
And in that moment, something between them shifted from quiet admiration to quiet dependence.
But trouble was already watching.
From the other side of the glass wall, hidden behind the boardroom blinds, Lami watched them.
Eyes narrow. Fists clenched.
His jaw ticked as he dialed a number.
"Prepare the next phase," he said coldly. "He doesn't back off—I'll make him disappear."
The Next Day
Majek received a call from IT.
"Please come. We have a problem."
He arrived at the server room, confused. A technician pulled up logs.
"Your account accessed confidential projections last night. From Agnes Lewis' private folder."
Majek's heart sank.
"I wasn't even here," he said. "I just picked up a flash drive. I didn't access anything."
But the logs didn't lie.
Or rather… they had been made to lie.
He was placed on temporary suspension.
Agnes fought it. She stormed into her father's office, furious.
"He wouldn't do this, Dad. You know it."
But Mr. Smith was unmoved.
"Until we clear it, he's off payroll."
Majek packed up his desk that evening. He didn't cry.
But when he stepped outside and saw Agnes waiting by his car, arms folded, he almost did.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's not your fault."
"It is. Lami's behind this. I know it."
He looked at her.
"Then why is he still here?"
Her silence said everything.
That night, Majek walked alone through the empty streets of Surulere. He passed by children playing football with a deflated ball. Street vendors packing up. Old men arguing over a chessboard.
And he wondered, not for the first time:
Is love worth risking everything for—especially when you don't even know if it's returned?
He reached home, collapsed onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling.
But the scent of her perfume still clung to his shirt.
And that made it impossible to sleep.
Elsewhere – Inside the Goriola Mansion
Lami stood at his father's private study, pouring another drink.
His face was calm, but inside, he was coiled with rage.
"She's slipping," he muttered. "I need something stronger."
Mr. Akins Goriola looked up from his chair.
"You want the girl? Then own her. Break the boy. Don't wait for fate to clean your mess."
Lami smiled slowly.
And somewhere, a dark plan began to take shape.
Final Scene – Agnes' Apartment, Midnight
She couldn't sleep.
Not after seeing Majek walk away.
Not after watching him carry the burden of blame meant for someone else.
She got up, went to the window, and whispered to the night.
"Why are the good ones always the quiet ones?"
And for the first time, she realized something terrifying:
She was falling for a man she might never be allowed to love.