The Untainted
Chapter 10
Early the next morning, just as the sun began stretching its golden fingers across the sky, a sleek black car drove quietly out of the campus hostel. Its destination—the Bolajoko Mustopha residence.
Rihannat adjusted her seat as the gate of the university faded behind them. She stole a glance at Folakemi, who looked unusually calm… almost mischievous.
"You're too quiet," Rihannat said, narrowing her eyes. "That's suspicious."
Folakemi only smiled. "Relax. It's just my house."
"Just your house?" Rihannat scoffed. "The way you're saying it, I'm expecting a bungalow with two plastic chairs outside."
Folakemi laughed but said nothing more.
Two hours later, the car slowed.
The gates before them were massive—black and gold, intricately designed, sliding open with smooth authority. The driveway alone seemed to stretch endlessly, lined with trimmed hedges and tall ornamental palms.
Rihannat's jaw dropped.
The mansion that stood before her was nothing short of breathtaking. It occupied an expansive space, boasting a stunning architectural masterpiece that blended contemporary elegance with regal opulence. Glass panels shimmered under the morning light, balconies curved gracefully, and fountains danced at strategic corners of the compound.
The drive from the gate to the main building took almost ten minutes.
Ten. Whole. Minutes.
"Wow…" Rihannat breathed, staring wide-eyed. "This is big and—" She trailed off, still absorbing the sight before turning slowly to Folakemi. "Never knew you were a big heiress."
Folakemi placed a dramatic hand on her chest. "Oh… I'm flattered."
The two burst into laughter just as the driver parked smoothly inside the spacious garage. He stepped out and walked around to open the door for them.
"Welcome home, Miss Folakemi," he said politely.
Rihannat froze.
She turned to her friend with exaggerated horror. "Welcome home… Miss?!"
Folakemi groaned. "Mr. Lukmon! I've told you to stop addressing me like that." She shot him a playful glare. "Now look, she won't let me hear the end of it."
Mr. Lukmon only smiled knowingly as he retrieved their bags.
Still chuckling, Folakemi linked her arm with Rihannat's and led her toward the entrance.
But the moment the grand doors swung open—
"WELCOME HOME!!!"
The shout nearly sent Rihannat's soul back to campus.
Standing at the doorway were Folakemi's parents, beaming widely. Well… the shout had clearly come from her mother.
Rihannat blinked twice, trying to steady herself.
The interior of the house was just as magnificent as the exterior—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, elegant artwork adorning the walls.
Two young men were seated on the couch facing the television. Their backs were turned, and even from behind, their posture screamed displeasure.
Rihannat suddenly felt a strange tension.
It's like… someone isn't happy I'm here, she thought uneasily.
Then—
Smack! Smack!
Two identical sounds echoed through the living room.
"Mum! What was that for?" the two young men exclaimed simultaneously as they sprang up from the couch, rubbing the backs of their heads.
They turned to glare at their mother, pouting like overgrown children—before their gaze shifted.
And froze.
Completely.
Their expressions changed.
The playful annoyance disappeared, replaced by something unreadable.
Their eyes were fixed on Rihannat.
Unblinking.
Intense.
Rihannat suddenly felt like a rare exhibit in a museum. Or worse—a zoo animal on display.
Folakemi cleared her throat.
"Oh! This is my friend, Rihannat," she said quickly, noticing the odd silence.
She pulled Rihannat slightly forward.
"Rihannat, these are my parents—Mr. and Mrs. Mustopha Bolajoko."
Her father gave a polite nod, though his gaze lingered far longer than normal.
"My eldest brother," Folakemi continued, gesturing toward the taller of the two men, "Mustopha Olalekan. He just returned from abroad. The well-known surgeon I told you about." She frowned slightly. "I thought your flight was tonight."
Olalekan didn't respond.
His eyes remained locked on Rihannat.
"And the second one—Mustopha Oladeji. He manages Dad's companies."
Oladeji's stare was equally unwavering, though his held something different. Curiosity. Recognition? Or perhaps something deeper.
"And this," Folakemi finished proudly, "is the lady whose drawings I always show you. Rihannat Abdrahmon Adeleke."
Silence.
A thick, suffocating silence.
One minute passed.
It felt like five.
Rihannat's heartbeat quickened.
Did I wear something wrong? Is there paint on my face?
"Mom? Dad? Bros? Say something now…" Folakemi said awkwardly.
A deliberate clearing of a throat shattered the tension.
Her father coughed lightly. "Welcome… dear."
Her mother smiled, though surprise still lingered in her eyes.
But the brothers?
They were still staring.
As though trying to see through her.
As though searching for something hidden beneath her calm exterior.
Rihannat swallowed.
She was dressed modestly, elegantly—nothing revealing. Yet the simple gown seemed to accentuate her ethereal beauty in a way she wasn't even aware of. There was something about her presence—quiet yet commanding. Gentle yet captivating.
The brothers' gazes were different… yet somehow intertwined.
Olalekan's stare held shock. Almost disbelief.
Oladeji's carried fascination… and something dangerously close to intrigue.
But the parents?
Their gaze was entirely different.
It wasn't admiration.
It wasn't surprise alone.
It was mystery.
Perplexity.
Like they had seen something impossible.
Or someone.
And Rihannat could feel it.
Something had shifted the moment she stepped into that house.
Something unspoken.
Something long buried.
Folakemi, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface, clapped her hands cheerfully.
"Okay! Enough standing like statues. Let's go inside properly."
But as they moved further into the grand living room, Rihannat couldn't shake the feeling crawling under her skin.
Those looks…
They weren't normal.
And deep down, without knowing why—
She felt like this wasn't her first time in that house.
—
Follow closely as the story unfolds.
From this very moment, secrets long hidden begin to rise.
The mystery is only just beginning.
— Olukoya Zainab