After pointing out the room's features, including the ensuite bathroom and walk in closet, Chibuzor excused himself. "I need to catch up on sleep," he murmured before leaving.
Olaedo was not too concerned about anyone noticing they had separate rooms. According to Chibuzor, only family, close relatives, and the housekeeper were allowed on the second floor. The first floor was reserved for guests, while the ground floor housed the living room, dining area, kitchen, and other shared spaces accessible to the household staff.
Feeling more awake, she began unpacking her suitcase. She rapidly hanged her clothes in the walk in closet and set her cosmetics on the dressing table.
Deeper inside the closet, she stumbled upon rows of clothes, casual dresses, evening gowns for occasions, and other stylish items thoughtfully prepared to help her blend into her new role.
"This hubby of mine really is organized!" she muttered, unable to hide her shock.
After unpacking, Olaedo said goodnight to Chibuzor as was her routine whenever she was staying with someone, then moved to the study within her room to tackle some pending work.
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Three months later
The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains. Stretching, she decided it was time for a bath. Afterward, she dressed in one of her own outfits still not used to the clothes from Chibuzor filled in the closet.
Once she was done, she headed downstairs in search of breakfast.
She had slowly started getting used to living with Chibuzor, but it still did not feel like home. Every day, they each pretended to be so in love during breakfast, lunch, and dinner before going their separate ways to work.
They also made sure to go on dates even though their relationship was not public yet. Their dates was meant to deceive Chibuzor's grand parents who had eventually inserted spies to watch their movements.
On weekends, her and Chibuzor would practice their poses, and review their fake marriage performance. And this weekend was no exception.
It was Sunday morning and they had stayed up almost all night yesterday practicing various couple poses and finalising their meet cute story since the family ball was coming up that Saturday.
The house was alive with activity. Servants moved about with purpose, each focused on their tasks. As she passed, they greeted her respectfully, and she responded with a sincere smile that came effortlessly.
It reminded her of her company, where she effortlessly navigated conversations with her employees. She even paused occasionally to engage a few workers in light hearted discussions, asking thoughtful questions that brought warmth to their faces.
Just as she approached the kitchen, curious to interact with the chefs in their natural habitat and see what was being prepared, a young woman stepped into her path. Her expression was stern, her posture rigid.
"Young Madam, you can't be here," the woman said sharply. Her tone then shifted to one of mockery as she added, "It's beneath your status to be in the kitchen. Go wait at the dining table. The maids will serve you soon as usual." She waved her hand dismissively, as though shooing away a stray animal.
Olaedo's brow arched at the blatant disrespect. For a moment, irritation flared within her, but she quickly decided to let it go. She had only been here for three months, and she had no intention of starting an unnecessary argument.
Without a word, she stepped around the woman and entered the kitchen. The other staff pretended not to notice the exchange, keeping their gazes firmly on their tasks. Undeterred, she greeted the older men and women warmly and exchanged pleasantries with the younger ones before asking with a smile, "What's for breakfast?"
One of the chefs, Mrs. Ezinne, answered with a warm smile, gesturing to the grand table filled with dishes. "Something light," she began. "For you, we've prepared sandwiches and tea. For the Young Master, as per his request, we've crafted a harmonious blend of Western and West African cuisines, offering a delightful variety. On the Western side, there are fluffy pancakes with maple syrup, crispy bacon, and a gourmet omelet station with customizable fillings. From the West African side, we have golden akara, steaming moi moi, and fried plantains paired with a rich, spicy egg stew."
She then motioned toward another table laden with drinks. "For lighter fare, there's a fresh fruit platter of mango, pineapple, and watermelon, alongside parfaits layered with yogurt and granola. To accompany, we have freshly brewed coffee, a selection of teas, and refreshing orange juice."
Olaedo nodded, impressed by the spread.
Why didn't anyone ask me what i wanted? She wondered.
She would have preferred toasted bread and avocado this morning since she had been given sandwiches and tea or some other similar food for the past three months, but a sandwich was still good and not far from what she usually ate in her apartment, so she didn't raise any objections.
The simple style fitted her lifestyle as she was never one to demand an overabundance of food just to pick at a few dishes while the rest went to waste.
But what's with chibuzor's menu always being extravagant? A mix of Western and West African cuisines for today's breakfast? There was no way he could finish all that, right?
She found it excessive and, frankly, a huge waste from day one, but had decided to keep her thoughts to herself. After all, this wasn't her house. Instead, she smiled brightly and encouraged them, "Can't wait to taste your cooking again, Mommy Ezinne! I'll head to the dining room. Thank you, everyone."
As she left the kitchen, Olaedo purposely strode past the young lady who had tried to challenge her earlier. Her silence spoke volumes, and she felt no need to say more.
Entering the dining room, her eyes landed on her husband, already seated. She adjusted her voice and called out cheerfully, "Good morning, sweethea—ah!"
Her words faltered mid sentence as her gaze froze on his face.