As Chioma made her way home, her phone began to ring. It was a call from her brother, Andrew. She wondered why he was calling at this moment. Did he already know about her accident? Or did he have a strange feeling that something had happened to her? Chioma didn't feel like answering the call. She didn't want her brother to worry about her. She believed she could handle this situation on her own. Perhaps she would tell him about the accident later in the evening when she had gathered her thoughts.
When Chioma finally reached home, she fumbled with the keys, desperate for the comfort of its familiar walls. Her mother was away, selling fruits at the market, and her brother toiled in the garage. Tears filled her eyes as the harsh reality of their lives weighed heavily on her. She had envisioned finding a job, lifting her family above their daily struggles, only to have an accident shatter her dreams. Was there still hope? Was hope a cruel illusion, a mirage that taunted her with promises of a better life? The word itself tasted bitter on her tongue, yet deep down, a fragile ember flickered, refusing to be extinguished. Perhaps, someday, that ember would become a flame, guiding her towards the life she longed for.
Louisa rented this small apartment after the loss of her husband, Magnus. It nestled in a neighbourhood that whispered of resilience – a place where dreams were held together by patchwork and prayers. The bustling market spilled vibrant energy just a stone's throw away, and the rhythmic clangs of the garage where Andrew worked echoed through the streets, creating a symphony of survival. This arrangement eliminated the need for taxis and allowed them to save money to cover their expenses. It was a world brimming with life, despite its rough edges, and it offered comforting familiarity to Chioma, fitting within the family's budget.
Seeking solace, Chioma filled a bucket with water for a bath. As she poured the cool water over herself, she felt a sense of relief, letting the water wash away her worries. Emerging refreshed and wrapped in clean clothes, she was greeted by the rhythmic hum of a neighbour's radio seeping through the walls. This blended with distant calls of hawkers and the laughter of children playing in the alley—a melody of the strength to keep going despite challenges, a demonstration to the enduring spirit of community thriving amid hardship.
Chioma settled into her bedroom, craving a moment of quiet respite. However, just as she closed her eyes, her phone pierced the silence with insistent ringing, displaying an unfamiliar number. A wave of apprehension washed over her, mingling with a spark of curiosity. Though she assumed it might be her brother, checking the screen revealed an unfamiliar number. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the answer button, wondering who the caller could be before picking up.
'Hello?' Chioma said, but there was no response from the other end. 'Hello? Who is this? If you're not going to say anything, I'm hanging up!' Chioma felt a hint of annoyance. She thought the caller had dialled the wrong number and ended the call.
Meanwhile, Michael's grip tightened on the steering wheel, irritation coursing through him. 'She hung up on me?' he muttered angrily. 'Who the hell does she think she is?' As he pulled into the grand entrance of Paradise Hotel, one of the many properties owned by Moon Corporation, his phone buzzed. It was Robert, his ever-efficient assistant. Without giving Robert a chance to speak, Michael snapped, 'What is it?' his tone sharp and impatient.
Robert, sensing the storm brewing in his boss's voice, stuttered anxiously, 'Do I need to come to Paradise Hotel?'
'Just gather all the information you can find about Chioma Chima, that's all,' Michael replied before abruptly ending the call.
As Michael stood in the elevator, his mind raced back to the scene of the accident. He wondered how Chioma was doing. Was she still in pain? What if she decided never to speak to him again because of the incident? Would she hatehim forever? Should he visit her and apologise once more? If he didn't seek forgiveness again, would she not accept him? Would he have another encounter with her?
Michael let out a deep sigh as various scenarios played out in his head. When he finally reached the top floor, he glanced around before exiting the elevator with documents in hand, heading elegantly towards the presidential suite.
The agreement signing was scheduled for 10:00 am, and Michael had arrived at 9:40 am, despite the minor delay caused by the accident. He believed in punctuality and never subscribed to "African time."
Approaching the magnificent door, the guards at the entrance greeted him with bows. Michael placed his palm against the biometric palm, a soft glow emanated from the biometric palm scanner, casting an ethereal light upon his hand as he unlocked the suite. Only his palm could unlock the door to the presidential suite.
This was the only presidential suite at Paradise Hotel, exclusively reserved for Michael. Stepping inside, he exuded confidence. A refreshing morning breeze flowed in through the bay window, casting warm sunlight into the room. The gentle breeze occasionally lifted the gold curtains, creating a mesmerising dance of fluttering fabric.
Michael moved gracefully, his steps matching the smooth elegance of the crystal glasses on the wine rack. He picked a bottle of Amorone Della Valpolicella, a vintage promising sophistication and solace. Pouring a generous amount into a delicate glass with practiced ease, the deep garnet liquid swirled like a captured sunset.
Settling into a plush leather seat by the window, he savoured the first sip, letting the velvety notes of dark cherry and spice envelop his senses. The warmth of the wine spread through him, a subtle intoxication aiming to soothe the edges of his thoughts. Yet, even the wine's allure couldn't fully distract him from the enigma that had taken hold of his thoughts. It wasn't the impending agreement he was about to sign with George Enterprise that occupied his mind. Instead, his gaze drifted towards the window, and a single name echoed within the silent chambers of his heart: Chioma Chima.
Just then, his phone vibrated, and Michael glanced at the screen to see the number before answering the call. His voice was cold as he spoke, 'Don't make me wait, or I will cancel this signing ceremony.' He was speaking to the CEO of George Enterprise, headquartered in China.
The agreement was to sign a contract for a new cement plant in Imo State. This would be Moon Corporation's fourth plant constructed as a green field project in Nigeria.
'Almost there, sir,' the person at the other end of the line responded.
Frustration surged within Michael, and he muttered, 'Lazy morons. I shouldn't have partnered with incompetent trash like George Enterprise! They're nothing more than pigs!' He abruptly ended the call, his gaze fixed angrily outside the window. 'You bring nothing but bad luck. I nearly hit the only woman I have ever loved with my car because I was heading to sign a meaningless contract. They better behave, or I'll crush their company with my own hands!' He downed the remaining red wine in his glass.
Michael possessed a cold and aloof personality that radiated from him like an arctic chill, keeping others perpetually at a glacial distance. His formidable reputation in the business world wasn't merely whispered; it was etched in stone, with each triumph adding an unyielding layer to the aura of respect enveloping him. People didn't merely walk in his presence; they tread with utmost caution, navigating a minefield where one wrong step could trigger an irreversible explosion.
When the CEO of George Enterprise entered the suite, even its grandeur couldn't shield him from the suffocating weight of Michael's presence. The CEO's expensive and classy, perfectly tailored Versace suit—typically a symbol of confidence—now seemed like a flimsy layer of armour against a titan. It was as if a mere mouse had dared to venture into the lion's den, and the predator's gaze was fixed, unblinking, upon its every quiver.
'Sir Michael is truly a legend in the business world,' the man said, attempting to flatter. 'He is not just a legend; he is an unbelievable miracle...'
This was the first time he had seen Michael in person. As the CEO of Moon Corporation, Michael exuded an air of perfection that left no room for doubt. He possessed the visage of a confident man, the physique of a supermodel, and commanded the room with the presence befitting a leader of Moon Corporation.
In contrast, the CEO of George Enterprise paled in comparison to Michael. Faced with this awe-inspiring figure, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the heavens for bestowing upon him the opportunity to meet someone as remarkable as Michael.
Michael strolled towards his desk as if no one had spoken, captivating everyone's attention with each step. His every move exuded charisma and left a lasting impression. The contract signing with George Enterprise was about to commence, to be broadcasted live for the world to see.
Michael had chosen to keep the signing ceremony low-key. He didn't bother with the red carpet and the presence of numerous reporters as is customary for such events. Although there were reporters present, the atmosphere remained subdued.
Back at Moon Corporation, Robert sat in the office, watching the live broadcast. On the screen, he sensed Michael's unease, clearly related to the girl he was investigating. Yet, Michael's handsome appearance was impossible to ignore. He had a magnetic presence that captivated all who laid eyes on him.
After signing the agreement, Michael turned towards the CEO of George Enterprise, extending his hand for a handshake. The man wore a bright smile as he shook hands with Michael, as if stepping through the gates of heaven itself.
With the agreement signed, Michael began sharing his enthusiasm for the partnership. 'By constructing this new integrated cement plant in Owerri, Imo State,' he stated, 'Moon Corporation Cement will significantly bolster local production capacity, reaching 41.25 million tons per annum locally and 57.6 million tons per annum across Africa.' Pausing briefly, he continued, 'Furthermore, the Owerri Cement Plant will enhance Nigeria's ability to export cement, fostering economic diversification and foreign exchange inflows. This project is expected to stimulate the domestic economy through the creation of numerous direct and indirect job opportunities, fostering economic growth in Owerri...'
Michael also took the opportunity to acknowledge George Enterprise as a valued strategic partner, emphasising their instrumental role in previous successful projects for Moon Corporation.
'We have complete confidence in your company's capabilities,' Michael expressed. 'Given your track record with Moon Corporation's key projects, I am certain this venture will be completed on schedule.'
In response, the CEO of George Enterprise expressed his satisfaction with Moon Corporation's commitment and determination in building cement plants across Africa. 'It is truly an honour for us to embark on this journey with Moon Corporation once again,' he conveyed, exuding pride and happiness.
Suddenly, a realisation struck Michael as he recalled the accident involving Chioma Chima on his way to the signing ceremony. He couldn't help but attribute the incident to the gravity of the occasion. Looking directly at the CEO of George Enterprise, Michael's expression turned emotionless as he uttered words that carried profound implications. 'Remember, this contract can be terminated at any moment. Storm clouds may loom overhead. It is in your best interest to fulfill your responsibilities.' His statement resonated with a tacit understanding among all present.
Anyone could tell that despite the agreement being signed, challenges lay ahead. However, George Enterprise had the chance to escape any repercussions if they played their role well.
Michael concluded the signing ceremony by having lunch with the CEO of George Enterprise, further enhancing the CEO's reputation. Dining with Michael felt akin to dining with angels from heaven.