He signed the end with a faint, knowing smile and exhaled silently.
I've lied enough in the past ten days, he thought dryly. But that? That was brilliant. Not a single lie in there.
Olaedo, meanwhile, stood there fighting a different kind of battle.
Her brain scrambled for an emotional response as the registrar turned to her expectantly. She squinted hard, trying to summon tears. Sad movie scenes? Nothing. Starving stray puppies? Still dry. She even pinched herself under her dress.
"..."
Ugh. What kind of bride doesn't cry on her wedding day? she scolded herself. It seems I'll have to work on this later.
Finally, she straightened and spoke clearly.
"Chibuzor, you are a man I respect. I have looked up to you since I was younger, and you've inspired me to be who I am today. There wouldn't be a me without you, and I'm so glad I found you in this life. To a successful partnership in marriage."
The witnesses nodded politely, too politely.
Chibuzor blinked, momentarily thrown off. Is she… giving me a motivational speech? he thought. She sounds like she's presenting an award, not marrying me.
Still, something about the tone of her words tugged faintly at him, there was honesty in her voice, even if everything else was a performance.
Meanwhile, the witnesses exchanged discreet glances, their expressions mirroring the same quiet doubt.
Something about this wedding didn't feel right, but none of them could quite put their finger on what.
"Maybe this is how the rich confess love," one of the witnesses thought, clapping awkwardly.
Another muttered under his breath, "Useful? Quest? What is this, marriage or a video game?"
Still, the words sounded sweet enough on the surface, so polite applause filled the room.
As the clapping faded, one bold witness leaned closer to the registrar and whispered, "Are we sure they're in love? I've seen more chemistry between oil and water."
The registrar gave a tired shrug. I just want to finish this and go home. My bed is calling. And these two, showing up when we were already closed? They're truly made for each other.
He almost barked in frustration but stopped himself when he noticed their expensive clothes and calm, powerful airs. With a forced smile, he buried his irritation and waved the staff into motion. If these two wanted to get married after hours, then fine, he'd marry the "great Buddhas" himself.
Once the signing was done, the couple was ushered to a photographer who looked like he'd seen it all, except this.
He adjusted his old camera and gestured at them confidently. "Alright, newlyweds, let's see some love! Closer, please."
But what stood before him nearly made him drop his camera.
Chibuzor stood like a stone statue, back straight, arms stiff, expression unreadable. Olaedo mirrored him from two feet away, equally frozen, both of them radiating the same awkward tension as two strangers forced into a school photo.
The photographer blinked twice. What on earth am I looking at?
Deciding to help, he assumed they were just nervous. "Okay, okay," he said with a chuckle. "You're in love, remember? Sir, put your hand around her waist. Ma, you can rest your hand on his chest, look into each other's eyes."
Neither moved.
The silence stretched so long the photographer could hear his own heartbeat.
He sighed under his breath. At this rate, even mannequins would look more romantic.
But that only made things worse. Chibuzor's face now resembled a cow being led to slaughter as he cautiously glanced at Olaedo's dark expression.
He hesitated before placing his hands awkwardly at the back of her waist, barely grazing her dress, like touching her might activate some kind of trap. Both of them wore the same lifeless expression, the kind that said, we've just closed a multi million naira deal, not a marriage.
Oh wait… they actually had.
The photographer gawked at them, hands on his head. "How do you expect me to make this look believable? Who marries and stands like colleagues at a conference?!"
Defeated, he snapped the photo anyway, muttering under his breath, "May I live long enough to never photograph another couple like this again."
Outside the court, Olaedo folded her arms, lips twitching with amusement. "Afraid to hold a woman, huh? You almost sold us out in there."
"I almost sold us out?" Chibuzor's tone sharpened. "Your face was so terrifying I didn't even dare touch your clothes! How do we convince anyone we're in love with that kind of expression? We looked like enemies signing a peace treaty."
Seeing he was genuinely frustrated, Olaedo sighed and relented. "Fine. We'll practice some poses later. I didn't think we'd need it when I saw it written in your ridiculous contract, but clearly, I was wrong."
Chibuzor nodded stiffly, already shifting back into his calm, businesslike mode. "Good. I'll take you to your place to pick up your things, then we'll go home. Everything else is arranged."
Home.
The words echoed in her chest, familiar, painful. Maduabuchi used to say that, voice soft and warm, like he actually meant it. But from Chibuzor's lips, it felt clinical, like a statement of logistics rather than love.
She turned toward the window, eyes fixed on the city lights rushing by. No man is ever going to deceive me with those words again.
When they reached her apartment, the silence between them felt heavier than before. They climbed two flights of stairs, their footsteps echoing, before stopping at the door on the right.
She lives in a rented house?
Chibuzor blinked in disbelief. For a billionaire, that was… unexpected. He guessed it was a modest two room apartment, living room, guest room, kitchen, two toilets, and a master bedroom. Neat. Practical. Almost humble.
But the moment Olaedo unlocked the door and stepped in, all his quiet assumptions collapsed.
Chibuzor froze on the threshold, staring like he'd just witnessed a crime scene.
The living room was chaos. Clothes sprawled across the sofa, rugs thrown about like they'd been in a wrestling match, and, was that a blanket draped over the television? But none of that prepared him for what lay ahead.