The first week of officially dating a billionaire was chaotic. The good kind of chaotic. My Adrian. My man. My boyfriend. (Yes, saying it out loud felt ridiculous but also totally right.)
He insisted that our first "official" date had to be special. He had been mysterious all morning, texting me cryptic messages like: "Wear something nice. And maybe... don't eat too much breakfast."
I, of course, immediately panicked. Why shouldn't I eat too much breakfast, Adrian? Was this going to be some kind of weird billionaire test? Would I fail and have to return to my humble existence, sad and hungry?
Turns out... yes. Yes, it would be a test. And I would fail spectacularly.
Because apparently, we were going to fly. Not metaphorically. Literally.
Yes. A helicopter. A real-life, hovering, "I hope you didn't eat too much" helicopter.
As we approached the private helipad, my knees began composing their resignation letter. There it was, gleaming black and silver in the sun like it owned the sky. A Bond-movie-level helicopter, casually threatening my life.
"Surprise!" Adrian said, grinning like he knew something I didn't.
I smiled back, because what else could I do when confronted with danger disguised as romance? "Wow. This is... unexpected."
"Good unexpected?" he asked, eyes sparkling with that mischief I couldn't resist.
"Totally. I mean, who doesn't love defying gravity before lunch?" I said, voice wobbling just a little.
He chuckled, helped me in, and before I knew it, we were strapped in, engines whirring, rising into the Lagos sky like a scene from a movie I hadn't auditioned for.
And for the first five glorious seconds... it was breathtaking. The city spread out beneath us, rooftops shrinking into tiny blocks, the ocean winking in the distance, sunlight bouncing off everything like magic. I even felt a small rush of... okay, awe.
That was the moment Adrian turned to me, eyes bright, grinning like a child who had discovered candy. "Look at the view."
I turned my head slowly, carefully, like someone opening a horror movie door.
And then, like a Victorian lady fainting at the sight of an ankle... I passed out.
Midair. In a billionaire's helicopter. On our first real date.
When I came to, my head was resting gently on Adrian's expensive-looking blazer, and he was hovering above me, equal parts worried and amused.
"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
"Define okay," I muttered, groggy, embarrassed, and vaguely aware that my dignity had left the building.
"You fainted," he said, trying—and failing—not to smile.
"Oh, good," I muttered. "Maybe next time we can have a date on solid ground. Like... Earth."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Noted. But hey—you survived. And you didn't throw up. That's impressive."
I crossed my arms, sulking. "Let's not act like the bar wasn't already on the floor."
For the rest of the flight, I clung to his hand like a toddler crossing the street. Adrian didn't complain, in fact, I think he enjoyed being my human safety blanket. And honestly, I couldn't blame him—it was hard not to enjoy my dramatic little self.
When we finally landed, and my feet kissed the ground like long-lost friends, Adrian turned to me with a mischievous grin.
"So... second date?"
I stared at him, suspicious. Was he trying to kill me via altitude? Maybe both?
He winked, and my heart betrayed me again.
"Only if it's within five feet of sea level," I muttered.
And that, my friends, was how I fainted on my first date with a billionaire.
To be fair, he did buy me jollof afterwards, so honestly... I forgave him.
The rest of the night was magical, like a movie. Adrian seemed determined to make this date unforgettable, and he succeeded. Every moment was perfect. Every laugh, every bite of food, every teasing glance—it was all gold.
Until it wasn't.
Right at the pinnacle of our date, Adrian's phone rang. He answered, his smile vanishing instantly. His hand tightened around the phone.
I stared at him, a little confused, a little worried. Something in his expression made my stomach twist.
The call was short, but the impact was huge. Adrian's grandfather had collapsed.