Gateway To Heaven 1

gateway
to
heaven
First published in 2024 by BON Limited,
Lagos.
Copyright @ Bolanle Olosunde-Jenrola 2024
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transported in any form or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or
otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher
of this book.
The moral right of Bolanle Olosunde-Jenrola to be identified as

the Author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance
with Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places,

and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living
or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by: Temitope Bolade-Akinbode

Proofread by: Wuraola Allen
i
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am beyond grateful to God for the privilege of writing ‘Gateway
To Heaven’, the second novel in the Yahweh’s Triage series. You
already know that my favourite genre is romance, but this book is
more than finding love. It is a message of hope, resilience, and trust
in God, even when His plans seem unclear. I pray it strengthens the
faith of everyone who reads it.
To my amazing husband, Olatunbosun Jenrola, thank you for being

my rock, for all your feedback, and for encouraging me with every
step. And to my sweet daughter, Morayoolaoluwa, you sacrifice the
most. Thanks for giving me the much needed space to pursue this
calling.
A huge thank you to my wonderful editor, Temitope Bolade-

Akinbode. You always push me to dig deeper and bring out my best.
Your guidance has been invaluable.
I’m also incredibly grateful to my stellar Bon Storytelling Agency

team for always being ready to help, especially Busola, for keeping
our social media vibrant; Wuraola, for managing our email
marketing; Samuel, for creating all our PDFs and content; and
Ayobami, for the beautiful cover. You guys are the dream team!
To my dear mother, Ayoola Olosunde, thank you for reading every

single book I have written and giving me the most thoughtful
reviews. Your support means the world to me. Lastly, to our
amazing readers—thank you for believing in these stories, for
sharing your reviews, and for spreading the message of hope and
faith. You inspire me to keep writing!
ii
PROLOGUE
Gbenga Ayo-Douglas stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office,

gazing at the chaos of Lagos traffic below. Pinnacle Bank’s
headquarters towered over the Victoria Island city, a fi ng reflec on
of Gbenga’s rise in the banking sector. At thirty-eight, he was already a
General Manager, a posi on that most men his age could only dream
of. His journey had been swi —an accoun ng degree from the
London School of Economics, an MBA from Harvard, and now, a seat at
the helm of one of Nigeria's most respected financial ins tu ons—but
his success wasn't solely due to his ambi on. The influence of his
father, an oil magnate with deep es in the business world, had
undeniably played a role, and people were always quick to credit this
to his success. It was annoying. Not that Gbenga cared about the
whispers, he simply remained consistent with growing and building
his own legacy in the banking industry, outside his family’s business in
the oil sector. He worked harder than anyone and had earned his
posi on through sheer effort. However, today wasn’t about proving
his worth. Today, he was staring down the barrel of an opportunity
that could change everything—both professionally and personally. His
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Bolanle Olosunde-Jenrola
mentor, Mr. Dapo Olatunji, an Execu ve Director at the bank, had

surprised him with a nomina on. He was supposed to lead Pinnacle
Bank’s expansion into Ethiopia, but at fi y-five, Dapo had decided to
step aside, choosing to spend more me with his family in Nigeria as
re rement loomed, and so, he put Gbenga’s name forward instead.
Ethiopia was one of Africa’s fastest-growing economies, and Pinnacle

Bank’s expansion into the country was going to be a massive leap
forward. Managing Director of the Ethiopian subsidiary at thirty-
eight? It was an incredible opportunity. It was the kind of offer most
people in his posi on would jump at, but Gbenga’s excitement was
weighed down by reluctance. Ethiopia wasn't like West Africa where
he could easily blend in with the familiar cultures. It had its own
dis nct way of life, history, and challenges. It had its own rules. He had
never even visited the country.
And then, there was his mother!
For years, she had been on his case about marriage. Gbenga had never
been the se ling-down type, and now, with his for eth birthday
looming in just two years, the pressure was moun ng. His younger
brother, Yemi, a star in the Afrobeats world popularly known as
Yemoli, already had three children – each by a different woman – and
yet, their mother seemed to reserve all her nagging energy for him. It
wasn't that he hadn’t had his share of women. In his university days,
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Gateway To Heaven
and even during his me at the London School of Economics, there

had been flings, girlfriends, women who came and went, but when he
hit thirty-two, just a er comple ng his MBA at Harvard, he had sat
next to a Pastor from Living Light Evangelical Church on his flight back
to Nigeria, and their conversa on had led to something Gbenga
hadn’t expected—his life had changed. He became a Chris an; not
just in name, but he seriously commi ed to living out his faith. Since
then, he’d stayed away from rela onships, women, and everything
else that reminded him of his former life.
“Start mee ng her now! At least go on a few dates!"
His mother’s words reverberated in his mind even as the offer to

move to Ethiopia hung in the balance. He had told himself that he
would leave marriage to his mother’s hands once he hit forty, even
though he couldn’t be bothered otherwise, And now, just when he
thought he might finally entertain the idea of se ling down, Ethiopia,
a country that wasn’t even on his radar, was calling. The posi on of
Managing Director was too good to pass up. Who says no to that?
Why let the obliga on of ge ng married to please his mother make
him turn down an opportunity like this one? His friends joked about
their nagging wives, the fights at home, the emo onal roller coasters,
and with every story, he felt more convinced that marriage was just
another chaos he didn’t need. He was happy focusing on his career. In
his mind, se ling down could wait. Maybe forever. His parents’
v
marriage wasn’t exactly a model either. His parents hadn’t shared a

room in over a decade, and Gbenga had grown up watching their
detached coexistence, wondering if that was what all marriages
became a er a while—just living together but alone. Why would he
want to sign up for that?
But his mother wouldn’t let him rest on the ma er. She had made it
clear that she wasn’t going to wait ll he turned forty to start
matchmaking. And it wasn’t just casual matchmaking—she wanted
him to meet this woman. Gbenga could feel the pressure building.
Between his mentor recommending him for the Ethiopia job and his
mother pushing him towards marriage, the weight of decisions
seemed to crush him. He rose from his chair and walked over to the
window, staring out at the horizon.
"God, what do you want me to do?" he whispered under his breath.

"Do I take this Ethiopia opportunity? It’s a big move, but is this the
right one? And as for marriage…"
He sighed deeply. The truth was, he had stopped asking God about
marriage a long me ago. He didn’t want it. Every example around
him told him that it led to frustra on, brokenness and regret. Why
join the chaos sta s cs when he could be free? He clenched his fists
and closed his eyes.
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Gateway To Heaven
"Is this what You want for me? Am I supposed to take this posi on in
Ethiopia or se le down?"
Silence filled the room.
Gbenga opened his eyes and stared down at his hands. Ethiopia was
calling, and so was the life his mother wanted him to build. God had
not spoken yet, and a part of him wished it wouldn’t be the la er. He
wasn’t sure he was ready, or that he would ever be.
vii
CHAPTER ONE
Precious Adeleke smiled broadly as she stepped off the plane at Addis

Ababa Bole Interna onal Airport. The cool, crisp air hit her, a stark
contrast to the familiar heat of Lagos. This was her first me outside
Nigeria, and she could hardly contain her excitement. Being here felt
surreal, a dream unfolding right before her eyes. At twenty-nine, life
had been more about wai ng than experiencing; wai ng for
opportuni es that never came, wai ng for a job that would set her on
the path to success. But standing here now in Ethiopia with five heavy
boxes trailing behind her, she could feel that life was finally shi ing.
This was it; the moment she had been praying for. She wasn’t
supposed to be here. She wasn’t even the first choice for this trip. Her
boss, the owner of Lush Events and Experiences, was the one Pinnacle
Bank had contracted for the massive celebra on event marking their
one-year anniversary in Ethiopia. Precious had only been hired as an
assistant to the personal assistant—a job that wasn’t supposed to
involve any travel or glamour, but then, the personal assistant had
go en pregnant and couldn’t fly, leaving Precious to fill in at the last
minute.
Her visa had come through just yesterday, and her boss had rushed to
buy her cket immediately. Everything aligned in the most
unpredictable way, and now, here she was: sweaty, exhausted, and
dragging boxes across the airport floor. Her boss, Mrs. Omolara Cole,
had flown out two days earlier on a luxurious business class cket,
arriving well-rested and prepared. Meanwhile, Precious had been
shoved into economy on Ethiopia Airlines, clutching the five boxes
that contained key elements for the event. But she wasn’t
complaining. The exhaus on was nothing compared to the joy of just
being there. She was jolted out of her thoughts at the sound of her
phone ringing. She quickly struggled to find it, rummaging through her
oversized handbag, her heart racing as she dug through makeup,
chargers, and pens, knowing it was probably her boss. Finally, she
found the phone just before it went to voicemail.
“Hello, ma!” she said breathlessly, recognising Mrs. Cole’s number on

the screen.
“Precious, change of plans.” Mrs. Cole’s voice was sharp and business-
like. “Don’t head to the hotel. I need you to join me here at Pinnacle
Bank’s head office. They’ve called an emergency mee ng and I want
you to drop off the event packages first.”
Precious’s heart sank. She was exhausted, hungry, and had been
hoping to freshen up at the hotel before diving into work. But, as
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Gateway To Heaven
usual, there wasn’t me to rest. “Okay, ma,” she replied, keeping her
voice posi ve despite her disappointment. “I’ll head there now.”
“Good. Make sure everything is intact. The taxi is already wai ng for
you outside. Don’t delay,” Mrs. Cole instructed before hanging up
abruptly.
Precious sighed, shoving her phone back into her bag. She had been
looking forward to a hot shower and a meal, maybe even a quick nap,
but she reminded herself that she wasn’t there for a vaca on, she was
there to work, and if she played her cards right, this trip could lead to
bigger opportuni es back home. She adjusted her grip on the boxes
and started to make her way towards the exit. Her muscles were
aching and she could feel the fa gue in her bones, but she refused to
let it slow her down. She tried to find a rhythm and balance to pull the
boxes when one of them slipped from her grasp. Before she could
react, it tumbled to the floor and landed squarely on a man’s foot.
The man, dressed in an expensive suit, yelped in pain, stepping back

with an angry glare. “What the hell?! Watch it!” he snapped, his eyes
flashing with irrita on.
Precious’s heart lurched, panic spreading through her. “Oh my God,

I’m so sorry!” she stammered, bending down to grab the fallen box. “I
didn’t mean to...”
2
The man rubbed his foot, looking down at her with disdain. “You need
to be more careful,” he said coldly. His eyes narrowed as he stood,
towering over her as she fran cally tried to balance the boxes again.
Precious could feel her face burning with embarrassment, but she was
too flustered to even think of a proper response. All she wanted was to
get out of the situa on, and when she thought it couldn’t get any
worse, she no ced the small lapel pin on his jacket—Pinnacle Bank.
Her heart lurched in fear. Of all the people to run into, it had to be
someone from Pinnacle Bank. She bit her lip, struggling to regain her
composure, but the man had already turned away in disgust, clearly
not interested in con nuing the conversa on. She whispered another
quick apology under her breath, feeling u erly humiliated, and with
her heart s ll racing, and the weight of the boxes pulling at her arms,
she hurried toward the exit. The s ng of the encounter and the man’s
anger hung over her like a dark cloud, but there was no me to dwell
on it because as soon as she stepped outside, she spo ed the wai ng
taxi. She threw her bags in the trunk and slid into the backseat,
brushing aside her frustra on. Even though her me in Ethiopia was
just star ng, and it hadn’t exactly given her a warm welcome, she
forced a smile, reminding herself of why she was there. This was her
chance to prove herself. No amount of snide remarks or painful
encounters could take that away from her.
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Gateway To Heaven
As the taxi pulled away from the airport, heading straight for Pinnacle
Bank’s head office, Precious whispered a quiet prayer, asking God for
strength, grace, and be er luck for the rest of the trip.
Precious dragged the fi h bag into the conference room, struggling to

maintain her composure. The room was spacious and adorned with
sleek furniture and the unmistakable air of corporate efficiency. Her
stomach growled so ly, a reminder of the meal she hadn’t had, but
there was no me for weakness now. She straightened up as Omolara
Cole, her boss, glared at her.
"What is this you’re wearing, Precious?" she snapped, her voice

cu ng through the air like a whip. "You look like a child. Jeans, hoodie,
and Crocs? You travelled like this?”
Precious blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I thought I could…”
"Thought what?" Omolara interrupted, her tone sharp. "That you’d

stroll in here looking like you’re on a playground and get away with it?
Do you even understand where you are? This is Pinnacle Bank’s
headquarters in Ethiopia! And you... you show up like this, making
excuses.”
4
Precious fought to steady her breath, her heart hammering in her

chest. "I didn’t have me to change a er the flight. I thought I’d
freshen up at the hotel…”
Omolara scoffed, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous

whisper. "Excuses, Precious. Always excuses. Do you think this is a
joke? How many people in your family have ever had the chance to
step outside Nigeria, and yet, here you are, messing it all up.”
Before Precious could muster a response, the door to the conference

room opened, and Eunice, the head of corporate communica ons,
stepped in. The woman, tall and poised, held a clipboard and smiled
briskly at Omolara, sparing only a brief glance for Precious.
“I saw some of those gi samples in Nigeria,” she said, ge ng straight

to business, “but I need to show them to the MD here. You know how
he is, he’s very par cular. I’m sure he’ll like them, but it’s always best to
avoid surprises.”
Omolara nodded, the fros ness in her demeanour shi ing slightly as
she addressed the woman. “Of course. We can head over there in a
moment. What’s the update on the team flying in from Nigeria and
Ghana?”
“They’ll arrive on the private jet tonight,” the woman replied. “They’ll
be staying at the Intercon nental.”
5
Gateway To Heaven
“Good.” Omolara’s lips curved into a sa sfied smile. “Let’s go see your
boss then.” As they turned to leave, she shot a glance over her
shoulder at Precious. “Pack the key items from those bags, put them in
a container, and bring them with you.”
Precious hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with

the bags. She felt Omolara’s eyes boring into her back, each second
under her scru ny amplifying her awkwardness.
“Hurry up,” Omolara snapped. “If you embarrass me again, consider

this job over.”
Precious swallowed the lump in her throat and moved quickly, packing
the items as best she could. She was no stranger to hard work, but
Omolara’s disapproval was suffoca ng.
As they le the conference room, Omolara glanced at Precious’s a re

once more and shook her head. “I need you to carry things, not speak,
so be invisible.”
Precious nodded, but Omolara had started walking away, leaving her
trailing behind. They moved through the bustling hallways, the place,
a hive of ac vity with employees rushing past, all impeccably dressed
in business a re. The contrast with Precious’s ou it couldn’t have
been more stark. Behind closed doors, she caught glimpses of intense
6
mee ngs, stern-faced execu ves deep in conversa on, and sleek
presenta ons projected onto screens. At the heart of it all was the
man called Gbenga, the no-nonsense Managing Director they were
about to meet. As they made their way to his office, she no ced
images of him involved in one event or the other on screens across the
building. He was the one orchestra ng the en re opera on and was
considered a legend in the corporate world, known for his tough but
fair leadership.
Every banker in the building moved with a sense of urgency, and as

they approached the execu ve wing, Precious’s stomach ghtened.
The sheer scale of the project they were working on became even
more overwhelming as she walked through the building. And to top it
off, Omolara’s earlier words s ll echoed in her mind—if you embarrass
me again, consider this job over.
She ghtened her grip on the container of gi items and focused on

the task ahead. This was her chance to prove she could handle the
pressure, despite everything weighing on her.
Precious followed Omolara and Eunice into the MD’s office, her heart
pounding like a drum in her chest. The door swung open, and the room
felt like a different world. It was breathtaking—sleek glass walls,
vibrant modern art on display, and the faintest scent of luxury in the
7
Gateway To Heaven
air. Precious's eyes widened. It was the most beau ful office she had
ever seen, and at the centre of it all sat Gbenga, Pinnacle Bank’s MD, a
figure as imposing as his reputa on. He didn’t look up. His fingers flew
over the keyboard, while his voice, marked by a Maltese accent,
barked commands into the phone. The intensity in the room was
palpable, making Precious shrink back even further. Gbenga’s
a en on was miles away, somewhere more important.
Eunice, ever the professional, stepped forward with a bright smile.

“Good a ernoon, sir. I’d like to introduce Omolara Cole, our Events
Planner for the anniversary.”
Without looking up, Gbenga’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a
blade. “Yes, why are you here?”
The room fell s ll for a moment. Omolara, usually so sure of herself,

faltered before speaking. Eunice stepped in swi ly, her tone
diploma c. “We’re here to show you samples of the merchandise for
the event, sir.”
Gbenga finally li ed his head, but only for a brief, dismissive glance.
His eyes flicked toward the samples Precious held then back to his
screen. “That’s your job, not mine. I trust you to handle it.”
Eunice cleared her throat, trying to mask her unease. “Yes sir, but
you’re quite par cular about these things, and I thought…”
8
“Trust me, you can handle it. I have bigger things to worry about.” He
spoke with an air of finality, his tone bordering on irrita on.
There was an awkward pause before Gbenga shi ed topics without

warning. “Is the entertainment sorted?” he asked, leaning back
slightly. “You know my Nigerian people. We don’t do boring. I hope
you've got something impressive lined up.”
Omolara jumped in before Eunice could respond. “Sir, it’s all taken care
of. We’ve got music, dance performances, and even comedy. It’ll be a
hit.”
Gbenga’s eyes barely flickered. “Comedy’s a good choice.” His

a en on shi ed back to his phone, already dialling. “Alright, ladies, I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
Just as he turned away, Precious felt the weight of the samples

growing heavier in her trembling hands. She tried to adjust, but
unfortunately, her grip slipped, the container tumbled to the floor, and
with it, everything she had been holding sca ered in all direc ons.
The room went s ll.
Eunice let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
Omolara’s face contorted in rage, her voice barely contained.

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Gateway To Heaven
“Precious, are you kidding me? What is wrong with you?”
Precious’s heart dropped. Her hands flew to the floor, trying to gather
the spilled items as her vision blurred with panic. She could hear them
both, their words blurring into one harsh condemna on a er another,
but what sent the room into absolute silence was Gbenga’s voice
cu ng through the chaos.
“Enough!”
All heads snapped in his direc on. He slowly placed his phone on the
desk then looked directly at the women. For the first me, Precious
felt his full a en on on her, and it made her want to disappear.
“She made a mistake. Why are you shou ng?” His voice, while calm,
carried an edge that silenced any further protests.
“But sir…” Omolara began, but Gbenga’s gaze, cool and unyielding,
stopped her in her tracks.
“It’s just a mistake. Leave the girl to pack up and meet you later. You
two… Go.”
Eunice immediately turned to Gbenga with a forced smile. “Of course,

sir. Our apologies.”
10
Omolara, clearly uncomfortable, fumbled for a response. “Yes, sir.

We’re sorry, sir.”
“Go,” Gbenga repeated, his tone leaving no room for nego a on.
The two women exchanged glances and reluctantly le the room

without another word. The door closed so ly behind them, leaving
Precious alone in the silence with Gbenga. She knelt on the floor,
hands shaking as she tried to gather the sca ered items. Tears welled
in her eyes as she began mumbling apologies.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened. I—”
“Breathe,” Gbenga said, his voice gentler than before. Precious looked
up, confused, her eyes wide with fear. “Just breathe,” he repeated,
walking toward her with a slow, deliberate pace. He pulled a ssue
from his desk and handed it to her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
He crouched slightly, levelling his gaze with hers. “It’s just a few things
on the floor, it’s not the end of the world. You’re not in trouble.”
Her breath hitched. “I—I didn’t mean to, sir.”
He sighed, standing tall again. “Don’t worry about it. Accidents

11
Gateway To Heaven
happen.”
Just then, her stomach growled loudly, cu ng through the tension.

Precious’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Gbenga raised an eyebrow. “Have you eaten today?”
She shook her head. “No, sir. I came straight from the airport. There
wasn’t me.”
He nodded, crossing his arms though ully. “That explains a lot. You
should never let anyone work you like this without a meal.”
Precious stared at him in disbelief. Was this the same man they said
was the toughest MD in Africa?
She couldn’t make sense of his calm demeanour. “Sir, I’m so sorry for
the mess and…”
Gbenga waved a hand dismissively. “Forget about it. Just sit, catch
your breath, and I’ll have someone bring you food.”
She hesitated, shaking her head quickly. “No, sir. I can’t…I don’t want
any food. Please, I just need to clean this up and go.”
Gbenga’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his tone remained gentle. “You
12
sure?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, already standing to gather the last of the
sca ered items.
Gbenga sighed lightly. “Alright, pack up and go. But make sure you get
something to eat before the day’s over.”
Precious nodded, grateful, yet s ll overwhelmed. “Thank you, sir.”
Gbenga returned to his desk, picking up his phone. “Take care of

yourself.”
She managed a weak smile before hurrying out the door, s ll feeling
ny knots of tension in her tummy, even though she also felt a strange
sense of relief se ling in her chest.
Precious walked down the hallway, her legs feeling unsteady beneath
her. The encounter with the MD played over and over in her mind. Was
he really that nice? Or was it just a moment of grace before everything
goes wrong again? Her heart raced as she approached the room
where Omolara and Eunice waited. She knew what was coming, and it
wasn’t going to be easy.
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Gateway To Heaven
The moment she stepped inside, Omolara's eyes narrowed, and her
scowl deepened. “What is wrong with you?” her voice was sharp,
cu ng through the air like a blade. “I don’t even know why I brought
you,” she said in exaspera on. “If not that my assistant got pregnant
and couldn’t come, I wouldn’t even have you here! I don’t work with
people who don’t know what they’re doing. I don’t work with people
who are not professional.”
Precious opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She
couldn’t even defend herself. Everything Omolara said was true.
“Calm down,” Eunice interjected, her voice firm but gentle, cu ng off

Omolara’s rade.
Omolara turned to Eunice, her expression incredulous. “Eunice,

you’ve worked with me for ten years. You know how professional I am.
I don’t tolerate nonsense.”
Eunice sighed and gave her a knowing look. “Exactly, Omolara. I’ve
worked with you long enough to know how you handle things. And
that’s why you should know that this is not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustra on.
“I heard that man is tough! You know I don’t want any issues. The last
thing we need is for him to say he doesn’t want us handling this
anniversary.”
14
Eunice smiled, her demeanour calm but confident. “Trust me,

Omolara, my boss may be tough, but someone dropping something in
his office isn’t on his radar. Gbenga’s worried about growing Pinnacle’s
revenue by 1,000%, not about some gi s spilling on the floor. He’s
moved on from it, and you should too.”
Omolara huffed but didn’t respond immediately. She glanced at

Precious, her expression s ll annoyed, but something in Eunice’s
words must have struck a chord.
Eunice lted her head slightly toward Precious. “Besides, this girl looks
like she’s about to faint. Maybe it’s me for her to go and calm down
somewhere.”
Omolara sighed and waved her hand dismissively. “You know what,
just go. Go back to the hotel. I’ll call you later.”
Precious stood there for a moment, unsure if she should say

something, but her feet moved before her mind could catch up. Her
stomach was ed in knots of worry as she le the room. Was she really
going to lose her job a er this? Or had she narrowly escaped today?
The uncertainty gnawed at her, each step heavier than the last.
15
CHAPTER TWO
It had been ten minutes since the girl had le his office, but Gbenga’s
mind kept dri ing back to her. He didn’t know why. There was
something about the way she had le —awkward and unsure—but
there was also more.
What is it about her?
He couldn’t put his finger on it and that bothered him, but he brushed
the thought away.. With everything he had on his plate, he shouldn’t
be thinking about a girl he barely knew. Now was not the me. The
door opened abruptly, and John and Musa from the Treasury
Department walked in, their faces ght with tension.
“Sir,” John began, handing over a thick report, “we’ve finished the
liquidity review, but there’s something we need to address before
tomorrow’s presenta on.”
Gbenga’s eyes narrowed as he flipped through the document. “What

16
is it? I don’t want surprises, especially not now.”
Musa stepped forward. “We’ve had significant ou lows from a few of

our high-net-worth clients. They moved large sums in the past month,
and it’s affected our liquidity buffer. We’re s ll within regulatory
limits, but we’re cu ng it close.”
Gbenga’s expression darkened as he processed the informa on. “How

close?”
John shi ed slightly, visibly uncomfortable. “Our liquidity coverage

ra o is hovering just above the threshold. We’re realloca ng assets,
moving funds to short-term holdings to fix the gap, but…”
“But?” Gbenga’s tone sharpened.
“It’s ght, sir,” Musa admi ed, his voice low. “We’ll meet the
minimum requirement, but the ming is... tricky.”
Gbenga let out a deep breath, staring hard at the numbers in front of
him. “We’ve had ten months of growth and success a er our ini al
bumpy two months. The GMD is coming here tomorrow to celebrate
the anniversary of everything we’ve achieved. If he senses even a hint
of weakness in our liquidity posi on, it’ll undermine all the hard work
we’ve done. The whole point of this celebra on is to show our
strength, not to expose vulnerabili es.”
17
Gateway To Heaven
John jumped in quickly, “We’re confident we’ll have the ra o back in

the green by morning. We’re working on it.”
Gbenga’s frustra on simmered beneath the surface. “I don’t want

confidence. I want certainty. If the GMD asks about our liquidity
posi on, I don’t want to explain how we ‘almost’ let things slip.”
Musa nodded, his voice steady but firm. “We’ll fix it, sir. You have my
word.”
“Make sure you do.” Gbenga’s tone le no room for debate. “We’ve
built too much momentum to let something like this drag us down.”
Gbenga’s phone buzzed on his desk, nipping any further conversa on

in the bud. His eyes flicked down to the screen: Mum. He’d already
ignored too many of her calls this week. The buzzing con nued
insistently.
“Is there anything else?” he asked, waving the two men off

impa ently.
“No, sir,” John replied, stepping back. “We’ll update you by the end of
the day.”
“Good,” he said sharply. “Get it done.” The men le quickly, and

Gbenga grabbed his phone, bracing himself. He answered, his voice
18
already weary. “Hello ma.”
“Gbenga, Gbenga!” His mother’s voice came through, thick with

impa ence. “When was the last me you picked my call? I’ve been
trying to reach you!”
Gbenga rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment. “Mummy,
I’ve been busy. We’re preparing for the bank’s anniversary, and it’s…”
“Anniversary? ” she interrupted, her tone growing sharper. “That

might be important to you, but to me, your marriage is more
important. You promised me that by the me you turn forty, you’d
se le down. Well, your birthday is next month! Have you found
someone yet or do I need to find a girl for you?”
Gbenga groaned inwardly. “Mum, please, not now. I’ve got too much
on my plate to think about this.”
“No, Gbenga!” she shot back, her voice rising. “I’ve been wai ng for
ten years. Do you want me to die in sorrow over you? You promised
me, and now I’m holding you to it. I can’t breathe just thinking about
you turning forty and s ll being single.”
He exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. “Mummy, calm down. I just

need a li le more me. Let me get through this anniversary and then
I’ll focus on it, I promise.”
19
Gateway To Heaven
“You need to come home for your birthday,” she insisted, her voice
firm. “Take a month off and come back to Nigeria. You’ve been gone
too long, and we need to sort this out once and for all.”
Before Gbenga could respond, his phone buzzed again. This me, it
was his assistant calling. “Mum, I really need to go. I’ll call you back, I
promise.”
“Gbenga, one month. No excuses. Come home,” she said sternly.
“I’ll call you back,” he repeated, ending the call before she could
con nue. He immediately answered his assistant’s call. “Yes?”
“Sir, the mee ng with Habesha Oil Company is in five minutes. They’re
wai ng on Zoom.”
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Gbenga replied, feeling the pressure of the
day weighing down on him.
He hung up and leaned back in his chair for just a second, staring at the
ceiling. His mind briefly flashed to the girl that was in his office earlier.
What was her name again?
He had told her to eat earlier, but he hadn’t taken his own advice.
Most of the staff were ge ng ready to close, yet he hadn’t eaten all
day. He shook his head, feeling the exhaus on creep in. With a deep
20
sigh, he straightened up. There was no room for rest. Not today. He
steeled himself for the next round of mee ngs and set his focus back
on the tasks at hand.
Precious had just go en to the ground floor, and was about to get into
the taxi wai ng to take her to the hotel when Omolara called her to
come back, saying that she needed her to finish some tasks before
calling it a day. That was about three hours ago. Now, she stood alone
in the conference room which was eerily quiet, save for the rustling of
the items as she picked them from the spread before her and carefully
placed each gi into the bags. She sighed in exhaus on. If they were in
Nigeria, there’d be at least three people handling this task, maybe
even four, but here in Ethiopia, it was just her. Omolara would never
lower herself to do this kind of work. She had simply told her when she
was leaving that she couldn’t leave un l all the bags were packed and
ready for tomorrow.
Precious tried not to let the task dampen her spirits. She had promised
h e rs e l f s h e wo u l d re m a i n j oy f u l , a e r a l l , s h e wa s i n
Ethiopia—another country, another opportunity. Not everyone got
this chance. She allowed herself a small smile and whispered a prayer
under her breath.
“Thank You, Lord, for bringing me here. I know You have a plan for me
21
Gateway To Heaven
even though I feel a bit overwhelmed. Help me live a life of purpose,

one that aligns with Your will.”
The hours dragged on as she packed each gi bag, neatly placing the
items inside one by one. She was red but kept going, humming so ly
to herself, determined to stay grateful for the experience. Finally, by
9:30 p.m, the last gi bag was packed. She stood back and surveyed
her work, a sense of sa sfac on se ling over her. It wasn’t glamorous,
but it was done. She wiped her hands on her jeans and pulled out her
phone, ready to call a taxi. Unlike her rich boss who could afford
roaming fees, she was always quick to connect to the wifi of where she
was, and thankfully, Pinnacle had an open wifi. As the screen of her
phone lit up, she no ced several messages wai ng for her. One was
from her sister, Hannah, and another from her best friend, Jumoke.
Both were teasing her about being in Ethiopia, calling her a “big girl,”
and telling her they were jealous.
Hannah’s message read… You be er send pictures oh! We want to see

you living large! We’re wai ng for that Instagram post!
Jumoke’s message was similar. Look at our big girl travelling abroad.
You be er make us proud and post something amazing. We’re
wai ng!
The irony of her situa on made Precious laugh out loud. If only they
knew. There she was, knees aching from bending over gi bags all day,
22
hair frizzy from the long hours, and not a single glamorous moment in
sight. But s ll, she smiled, grateful for the support and humour her
friends and family always provided.
She quickly booked her taxi and checked the me. She s ll had enough
hours to rest before the final stretch tomorrow. Grateful for even that
small mercy, she slung her bag over her shoulder and exited the room.
As she walked toward the elevator, she said a final, red prayer.
“Lord, please let Omolara leave me alone un l morning. Just one night
of peace.”
The elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside, leaning against
the cool metal wall as she rode down, ready to escape the long day
behind her.
Gbenga slid into the back seat of his car, le ng out a long breath as the
door closed behind him. It had been a day packed with mee ngs and
responsibili es, and all he wanted was to get back to the hotel and
breathe. His driver had just started the car when, out of the corner of
his eye, he no ced someone. There, standing by the building, was the
girl from earlier.
He frowned. Why is she s ll here? The day was long over for most, yet
23
Gateway To Heaven
there she was, standing alone, staring down at her phone, looking
completely out of place. The car rolled forward toward the gate, but
Gbenga kept looking back, his unease growing. Even as the car inched
away, the lady hadn’t moved. She stood frozen as if she were wai ng
for something or someone. Gbenga felt a strange tug of concern.
“Wait, park for a second,” he said to his driver.
The driver, slightly confused, pulled over just before reaching the gate.
They waited. A few minutes passed, but the lady didn’t budge.
Gbenga’s brow furrowed. “Why is she just standing there?” he

mu ered to himself.
A er what felt like an eternity, but was actually about ten minutes, the
driver turned toward him. “Sir, should we go or keep wai ng?”
Gbenga’s mind raced, but his gut told him something wasn’t right.
“Actually, reverse.”
The car smoothly reversed, and as they approached her, Gbenga

rolled down his window. He felt a twinge of awkwardness. He didn’t
even know her name. He cleared his throat as the window lowered.
“Hi,” he called out, his voice a li le more gruff than he intended.

“You’re the girl from earlier, right?”
24
Precious turned, startled, and her eyes widened when she recognised
him. “Yes, sir.”
“What are you s ll doing here?” he asked, frowning. “Why haven’t

you le ?”
Precious glanced down at her phone, clearly embarrassed. “I’ve been

trying to order a taxi, but they keep cancelling on me. The last driver
was on his way, but he cancelled too. I think I messed something up…”
Gbenga watched her for a moment, seeing the way she nervously
shi ed from foot to foot. Something in him so ened. He had been
frustrated all day, but now, that feeling was replaced by something
else—concern.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, sir, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” she said quickly, trying to brush off
the situa on.
Gbenga shook his head, his voice firm but calm. “You’ve never been to
this country before, right?”
She shook her head. “No, sir. It’s my first me.”
“So let me take you to your hotel,” he said, leaning slightly out the
25
Gateway To Heaven
window. “It’s not safe for you to stand here wai ng for a taxi that may
or may not come.”
Her eyes widened at the offer. “Ah, no, sir. Please don’t worry about
me. I’ll sort it out.”
He raised an eyebrow, his tone growing more insistent. “I’m not

worried. I’m telling you that I’m taking you to your hotel. You’re
working for Pinnacle, right? Well, right now, I’m your employer, and
your safety is my concern. I don’t want any trouble.”
Precious hesitated, clearly caught between wan ng to be respec ul

and feeling completely out of her depth. “Okay, sir. Thank you.”
She reached for the front door, but Gbenga’s voice stopped her. “No.
Sit here with me.”
There was a pause, and she quickly closed the door, moving around to
the back. She slid into the seat beside him, visibly uncomfortable.
Even though Gbenga no ced her discomfort, he kept a straight face.
As she se led in, she quietly gave the driver the name of her hotel. The
car rolled forward again, and they rode in silence. Gbenga felt the
tension in the air, but he didn’t push. He let the silence stretch
between them, wai ng for the right moment. A er a few minutes, he
finally spoke.
26
“What’s your name?”
“Precious, sir,” she replied so ly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, the name fi ng the delicate, almost vulnerable

demeanour she carried. “Precious… Have you eaten?”
She blinked, caught off guard. “I’ve been busy with everything for
tomorrow.”
He remembered their earlier conversa on and how her stomach had

growled loudly in his office. “So you s ll haven’t eaten? You were
hungry then.”
Precious glanced down at her lap, embarrassed. “It’s okay, sir. I’ll eat
when I get to the hotel.”
Gbenga shook his head. “Actually, I’m grabbing a bite to eat. You
should join me.”
She quickly shook her head. “No, sir. I don’t want to impose…”
“Is there anything else you’re doing tonight for your boss?” he asked,
his voice even.
“No… I was just going to sleep,” she admi ed.

27
Gateway To Heaven
“So come with me. It’s just dinner,” he said more ma er-of-factly than
before. “I’ll buy you dinner, and then you can get some rest.”
Precious opened her mouth to protest again but stopped. There was a
certain finality to his words that made her realise he wasn’t going to
take no for an answer. “Okay, sir,” she whispered.
As the car con nued through the dimly lit streets, Gbenga found
himself ques oning why he was doing this. This wasn’t like him. He
didn’t go out of his way for people, especially not for assistants who
worked under his team. But something about Precious made him feel
protec ve, and it was not just because it was the right thing to do. He
glanced at her again, her hoodie pulled ght around her, her worn
Crocs peeking out from beneath her feet. She didn’t fit into the world
he operated in, but there was something disarmingly pure about her,
something almost innocent that s rred something in him.
He shook his head slightly, pushing the thought aside. Don’t overthink
it, Gbenga. It’s just dinner. Nothing more.
A Few Hours Later
Gbenga stepped out of the shower, his skin s ll warm from the heat of
the water. As he wrapped a towel around his waist, his mind wandered
28
back to the dinner he’d had with Precious. He didn’t expect the
evening to turn out the way it had. He’d taken her to one of his
favourite restaurants, a place he frequented alone and never with
anyone else, especially not a woman, and yet, for some reason,
tonight had been different. He had taken her. And the strangest part?
He’d enjoyed it.
He stared at his reflec on in the mirror, water droplets trailing down

his chest. I actually enjoyed it, he thought in disbelief. They had spent
two hours at the restaurant, with him asking her ques on a er
ques on, ge ng to know her in a natural and effortless way. The flow
of conversa on surprised him, but what had intrigued him the most
wasn’t her background, it was her a tude. Every response came with
some varia on of “By God’s grace,” or “Thank God.” It was as though
she credited everything in her life to God. She said it so casually, yet it
didn’t feel forced or contrived. Humble, he thought. Too humble. It
was as though she didn’t want more from life and was content with
whatever came her way. She had even told him she had been looking
for “any job” before she got this one with Lush, which had taken him
aback. Any job? He shook his head. He didn’t know anyone in his circle
who wasn’t ambi ous and didn’t have clear goals. But Precious? She
seemed different and content with whatever God gave her, even if it
wasn’t much.
Gbenga turned away from the mirror and walked over to the window.
The city lights outside glimmered in the darkness, but his thoughts
29
Gateway To Heaven
remained on her. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since
they le the restaurant. There was something calming about the way
she spoke, something that made him feel at ease. She also had a
gentle aura about her, and then there was her appearance. She wasn’t
dressed in anything remarkable, had no make-up, glamour or glitz, but
there was a raw beauty to her that he found cap va ng. Her skin was
smooth, and her complexion was somewhere between dark and light.
Hers wasn’t the kind of beauty that demanded a en on, but once you
no ced it, you couldn’t unsee it. She doesn’t even know how beau ful
she is, he thought, his lips curling into a small smile.
I like her.
The realisa on hit him with a strange force. It had been so long since
he felt this way about anyone. Fi een years to be exact. He hadn’t
thought about women in any serious way at that me, but tonight?
Tonight was different. For the first me in years, he was genuinely
a racted to someone. He sighed, le ng the thought sink in. His
mother’s voice echoed in his mind, reminding him that his for eth
birthday was around the corner.
“You need to se le down,” she had said, her words pushing at him like
they always did. “Marry someone.”
He smirked at the thought. If I have to marry someone, why not her?

She is the first person I am a racted to in years.
30
It seemed too easy and convenient, but the more he thought about it,
the more sense it made. He had liked her instantly. She was kind,
humble, and there was something about her that made him feel
se led. He liked that.
“God,” he whispered, running a hand through his damp hair. “I like her.
I actually like her.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “Can I marry her?”
He stood there in silence for a moment, his thoughts swirling. Does

she have a boyfriend? That was the ques on he wished he’d asked
during dinner. But it hadn’t come up, and now, he was le wondering.
He hadn’t even thought to ask for her number. What if she was leaving
Ethiopia soon? What if this was the only chance he had to get to know
her?
He briefly considered calling Eunice, asking for the event planner’s

contact to get Precious’s number. But even in his head, that sounded
awkward. This is ridiculous, he thought, shaking his head. I’m the MD
of a bank, and I’m here thinking about how to get a girl’s number like a
teenager. He paced the room, laughing at himself. I need to tread
carefully here. This could all get very awkward, very fast. S ll, the
thought of ge ng to know her be er filled him with a strange kind of
excitement. It was so unlike him to feel this way, to let his thoughts get
wrapped up in something so personal.
“God,” he prayed again, “if this isn’t the right thing, show me. Clear it
31
Gateway To Heaven
up for me. But... I think I like her. And it feels good. It’s been so long
since I’ve felt this way about anyone. Is this You plan ng her in my
heart? Or is it the pressure from my mom?”
He let out a slow breath, his thoughts growing clearer. This isn’t just
pressure. I wouldn’t feel this way if it was. And yet, a part of him
couldn’t fully understand why he liked her so much already. It wasn’t
logical. He barely knew her, but that didn’t change the fact that he was
drawn to her.
As he stood by the window, looking out at the sprawling city below,

Gbenga made up his mind. He was going to pursue this. He had to. He
was a businessman, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it
was to go a er something with laser focus—whether it was a deal, a
project, or a person.
I’m going to find out more about her, he decided, his usual
ruthlessness in business bubbling to the surface. He would approach
this carefully and methodically, but he would explore it. He smiled, a
sense of clarity se ling over him. He liked her, and if God approved, he
would marry her. Simple as that.
32
CHAPTER THREE
Gbenga s rred from sleep, the thought of the previous night heavy on
his mind. He had been up late, thinking—no, praying—about
Precious. The notebook beside him contained the evidence: a list of
quali es he wanted in a wife, ques ons he planned to ask her, and his
sca ered thoughts on what this new a rac on meant for him.
Music, loud and upbeat, thumped through the walls. Gbenga

frowned, glancing at the clock—7 a.m. The day was already star ng
with a headache. He groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“What in the world…?”
Just as he started to reach for his robe, the door to his bedroom flew
open, and Adewumi charged in, all energy and bright smiles.
“Surprise!” she yelled, prac cally bouncing with excitement.
Gbenga blinked, s ll caught between sleep and reality. “Adewumi?

What are you doing here?”
33
Before she could answer, a second figure appeared at the door. Yemi,
or rather, Yemoli, walked in with a relaxed swagger, his signature
oversized round neck shirt and sunglasses in place. The grin on his face
was unmistakable.
“Yemi?” Gbenga’s voice rose in disbelief. “You too?”
“Yup.” he grinned. “I’m performing at the anniversary, bro. Thought I’d

drop by early and surprise you. Adewumi tagged along in my jet.
Couldn’t resist.”
Gbenga rubbed his temples, exasperated but somewhat amused.

“You guys couldn’t have at least called?”
Adewumi laughed, throwing herself onto the edge of his bed. “But
where’s the fun in that?”
Before Gbenga could respond, her eyes landed on his notebook which
was le open on the bedside table. In an instant, she grabbed it, her
expression shi ing to intrigue as she scanned the first few lines.
“‘Quali es in a woman.’ ‘Ques ons for Precious.’ What is this?”

Adewumi’s voice hit a high pitch, half laughter, half disbelief.
Gbenga shot up, reaching for the notebook, but Adewumi was too
quick, hopping to her feet and holding it out of his reach. “You found a
34
Gateway To Heaven
woman?” she teased, her eyes wide with mock surprise.
Yemi raised an eyebrow, his grin growing as he walked over. “Whoa!

Whoa! Whoa! Let me see that.”
“Give it back,” Gbenga mu ered, managing to snatch the notebook

away just as Yemi tried to peek over his sister’s shoulder.
Adewumi laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. “Relax, big bro.

Who’s this Precious, and why are you losing sleep over her?”
“Yeah, man. You’re making notes now?” Yemi added, folding his arms.
“You met someone at work, and now you’re what? Dra ing a business
proposal for marriage?”
Gbenga rolled his eyes, his face a mixture of annoyance and

embarrassment. “It’s not like that. I just... met someone.”
“You don’t sound too sure,” Adewumi said, her tone laced with playful
suspicion. “Who is she? Where did she go to school? What’s her
background?”
Yemi stepped in, grinning from what he deduced from his brother’s
expression. “And you don’t even know that yet? You’re planning to
marry a girl and you don’t have the basics?”
35
Gbenga sighed. “I met her yesterday, okay? She’s with the events team
for the anniversary.”
Adewumi gasped, as if the revela on was too much to bear. “You met
her yesterday,” she emphasised, “and you’re already making lists?”
Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “I should call
Mummy and tell her you’ve complied with her wish.”
Gbenga froze for a second before shoo ng her a warning look. “Don’t
you dare. Like I said, I met her yesterday. Let’s not get ahead of
ourselves. She may have a boyfriend.”
Adewumi rolled her eyes drama cally. “Oh, please. Why can’t you
just... I don’t know… slowly fall in love? Court her like a normal
person? Why is it always all or nothing with you?”
Yemi chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to snatch the list
but failing. “Man, you overcomplicate things. You like her, right? Just
tell her. Stop all this analysis paralysis.”
“Both of you, get out of my room,” Gbenga said, though the smile
creeping onto his face betrayed him. His siblings were a handful, but
they always knew how to break the tension.
“You know we’re the only ones who can talk to you like this, right?”
Adewumi teased as she finally made her way to the door.
36
Gateway To Heaven
“Just show some respect for your big brother and get out.”
Adewumi paused at the door, turning back with a smirk. “Anyway,

Yemoli is right. You’re overthinking this. Just go for it.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he replied dryly, closing the door
a er them.
For a moment, he stared at the closed door, his mind already dri ing
back to Precious. He grabbed the notebook and flipped it shut. Even
though he had a day packed with mee ngs and treasury reports, the
biggest thing on his mind was how to see Precious without making
things weird. Then the perfect idea struck him. The samples. He
hadn’t bothered with the gi items yesterday, but this morning, he
would request to see them and specifically ask for Precious to bring
them. It was the perfect, professional excuse to see her without
raising any eyebrows.
With the plan forming in his mind, a sense of excitement bubbled up

within him. Today was already shaping up to be interes ng, and it had
nothing to do with the fact that he’d been the MD of Pinnacle Bank for
one year.
37
Precious sat quietly in the corner of Omolara’s hotel room, her hands
ghtly clasped in her lap. The tension in the room was palpable, with
Omolara and Susan, an experienced local event planner, discussing
the final details of the Pinnacle Bank anniversary event. Precious tried
to stay as invisible as possible, her nerves on edge. It was already 10
a.m., and with the event star ng in hours, the pressure was moun ng.
Omolara’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Susan, are we
absolutely sure the VVIP and high table sea ng is finalised? There
cannot be any mistakes.”
Susan nodded calmly. “Yes, everything’s in place. But we should s ll

do a final check on the VIP sec on just in case someone important was
added last minute.”
Precious kept her gaze down, her mind dri ing away from the
conversa on to Gbenga, and the dinner they’d had last night. She
hadn’t expected him to be so kind, offering her a ride and insis ng on
dinner. It wasn’t something she had imagined happening when she
first met him. She was just one of the assistants, but he had treated
her with such considera on. Her heart flu ered slightly as she
recalled how the dinner had stretched, Gbenga asking her about her
life and her faith. It had been a surprising evening, and the thought of
seeing him again today made her stomach twist with nerves. She
38
Gateway To Heaven
knew he probably won’t remember much of their me

yesterday—why would he? He was a client, and it was just a simple
dinner. But now, the idea of facing him again, especially with Omolara
around, made her feel shy and uncertain. Would he acknowledge last
night? Would things feel awkward? She hoped nothing would put her
in the same space with him ll everything was done. Her thoughts
were interrupted when Omolara’s phone buzzed on the table. The
message from Eunice was read aloud, and Precious felt her chest
ghten.
Please come ASAP with your assistant. My boss wants to see the gi
items from yesterday.
“The MD wants to see us again?” Omolara exclaimed in annoyance.
Precious’s breath caught. She couldn’t believe she would have to face
him again so soon a er last night. Her heart sped up as she wondered
what he’d think if he saw her now, with her boss cri cising her at every
turn.
Omolara’s irritated voice broke into her thoughts. “What now?” she
mu ered, typing a response before tossing her phone on the table. “Is
this normal here?” she asked Susan, her frustra on moun ng. “We
showed him the gi items yesterday, and he barely looked at us. Now
he wants to see them again?”
39
Susan offered a sympathe c smile. “He’s a big deal around here,

Omolara. People respect him. It’s like dealing with a governor or
maybe a mayor. He runs things around here, and some mes, people
like him change their minds at the last minute.”
Omolara rolled her eyes. “I don’t care how powerful he is. He should
respect people’s me.”
Susan remained calm. “I’ve worked with him before on smaller

events, and while he can be strict, he’s always been apprecia ve.
Maybe he’s just stressed because today’s a big day.”
Precious’s mind whirled as she thought about how Gbenga had barely
seemed stressed last night. He had been relaxed, focused, and even,
dare she say, kind. But now, she was filled with nervous energy. How
could she face him again, knowing her role was hanging by a thread
under Omolara’s relentless cri cisms?
“I’ll go get dressed, ma, so we can head out,” Precious said, her voice
small but steady.
Omolara’s eyes flashed toward her, her expression a mix of disdain

and irrita on. “Who said you’re coming with me?”
Precious’s heart sank. “But, ma—”
40
Gateway To Heaven
“I don’t need you to embarrass me again,” Omolara snapped. “The

only reason you’re s ll here is because I don’t have another op on.
When we get back to Nigeria, this contract is done. You’re not smart
enough for this job. You don’t even know how to engage with people.
You’re too shy.”
The words pierced through Precious, leaving her stunned. She had
known Omolara was unhappy with her, but hearing it said so plainly
was a fresh s ng. The reality of her job slipping away was now
undeniable.
“I need someone confident,” Omolara con nued. “Someone who

looks the part. Not someone standing around awkwardly. Look at my
actual assistant—she is polished. I trained her myself.”
Precious bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. “Train me too, ma.
Please, just show me how, and I’ll do it.”
Omolara’s sharp laugh made Precious wince. “It’s too late. Just finish
this job and be done with it.”
Precious’s throat ghtened as she nodded. No job. No second chance.

And now, to make ma ers worse, she would have to see Gbenga—the
one person who had shown her any kindness—knowing fully well that
her future was crumbling.
41
Susan, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. “Omolara,

you’re being too hard on her. She’s trying. She’s learning.”
Omolara dismissed Susan’s comment with a wave. “You don’t

understand. In Nigeria, if you’re not tough, people walk all over you.”
Susan gave Precious a small, sympathe c glance before turning back

to Omolara. “Even so, she deserves some grace.”
“Precious”, Omolara said brusquely, “just go to the venue. Make sure

the vendors are ready. And for heaven’s sake, wear proper shoes
today.”
Proper shoes? Heels. Precious immediately thought of the pair si ng

in her suitcase. She would have to wear them. The thought of running
around in heels all day sent a wave of anxiety through her. How would
she manage that? Her feet ached just thinking about it, but Omolara’s
tone le no room for nego a on.
“Yes, ma,” she mu ered, rising to her feet.
Omolara turned back to Susan. “You’ll come with me to meet the MD. I
can’t risk Precious making us look bad again.”
Precious’s legs felt like lead as she walked toward the door, her heart
heavy with shame. Why couldn’t she be be er and more confident?
42
Gateway To Heaven
She’d tried so hard to keep up, but it seemed nothing she did was
enough. And now, as she walked out of the room, all she could think
about was how awkward it was to be fired abroad and not have a job
to return to once they got back to Nigeria.
Gbenga leaned back in his chair, feeling a quiet surge of pride. Just
yesterday, the treasury team had le his office with worried
expressions, their concerns about liquidity hanging in the air, but he’d
wasted no me in making some calls and fast-tracking deals that had
been weeks in the making. By nigh all, major accounts had been
moved to Pinnacle Bank. The bank’s liquidity had surged overnight,
and now, si ng in his office with his mentor and the Group Managing
Director (GMD) of Pinnacle Bank Africa, he couldn’t help but feel
proud.
“I always knew you had it in you,” Dapo said, admira on clear in his
voice. “I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my career. Your father’s
lucky to have a son like you.”
Gbenga smiled, the praise filling him with sa sfac on. “Thank you, sir.
Just trying to do what’s needed.”
Dapo shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. If my son could achieve
even half of what you have, I’d die a happy man. You’ve really outdone
43
yourself.”
The GMD, who had been reviewing the reports on the screen, spoke
up for the first me. “He’s right, Gbenga. You’ve done an impressive
job. These numbers are excep onal.”
Gbenga nodded modestly, but inside, he felt that well-deserved pride.

This was why he worked so hard. The moves he made last night had
paid off in a way even he hadn’t an cipated, and it was being
recognized by the highest levels of leadership.
Dapo chuckled, leaning back. “So, where are we sending you next?
You’re the best at plan ng new banks.”
Gbenga laughed, shaking his head. “No, no, not so fast. My work here
isn’t done. And once it is, I think I’ll like to go back to Nigeria.”
The GMD raised an eyebrow. “You’re too good at this. We’ll see.”
The three men shared a laugh before Dapo stood up. “Well, we’re off
to the polo club. I think we’ve earned a li le vaca on me.”
The GMD grinned. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m on holiday.”
A er quick handshakes, Gbenga watched them leave, the praise

lingering in the air. Everything had worked out perfectly. He had acted
44
Gateway To Heaven
swi ly and decisively when it ma ered most, and now the results
spoke for themselves. He relaxed in his chair as the door closed behind
them, only for there to be a brief knock, and Omolara, Eunice, and
Susan entered, carrying the samples he had requested.
Gbenga greeted them with a polite smile, standing from his desk.
“Thank you for bringing these in.” In a casual tone, he said, “Yesterday,
I didn’t think it was necessary to go into detail, but today I figured it
wouldn’t hurt to pay closer a en on to things.”
Omolara nodded, clearly apprecia ve of his candour. “That’s

understandable sir.”
Gbenga glanced at the packages briefly, but his mind wasn’t fully on
the samples. He stared at the door, watching out for Precious to come
in. Without showing his disappointment, he asked, “Where’s your
assistant?”
Omolara’s response came quickly. “I told her to sit this one out to
avoid any embarrassment like yesterday. She’s already at the event
centre, making sure everything is set up.”
Gbenga’s heart sank for a moment. Precious wasn’t here. The very
reason he had called the mee ng had slipped away. He had hoped for
another chance to see her, but now, she was at the event centre, far
from his reach. He tried to keep his expression neutral.
45
“Hmm. Well, I don’t think yesterday’s incident was a big deal. It

happens.”
Omolara maintained her professional tone. “We thought it best to

present a more polished front today.”
Gbenga caught a glance between her and Eunice as though they were
trying to gauge his interest in her assistant. Realising the conversa on
was veering into dangerous territory, he quickly changed the subject,
giving a nod of approval, even though he barely registered what he
was looking at.
“They look good,” he mu ered, offering a smile of approval at

Omolara.
She smiled back in return, pleased he approved. “Thank you sir.”
Gbenga nodded and dismissed the women, but he couldn’t shake his
disappointment at Precious’ absence. She should’ve been here, he
thought, grumpy when it hit him that they had told him where she
was. This me, she was unsupervised, and if he acted quickly, he could
see her without any interrup ons.
His assistant entered, interrup ng his thoughts. “Sir, the mee ng is

ready to resume.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Gbenga had no interest in another drawn-out mee ng when he could

see Precious. “You’ll need to sit in on that mee ng for me,” he said,
standing with purpose.
The assistant looked confused. “Sir?”
“Buy me some me—one hour, at least. I’ll explain later.”
His assistant hesitated but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Without was ng another second, he made his way to the door. “Call
my driver. Tell him to meet me outside.”
Precious winced as she shi ed her weight from one aching foot to the
other. The sharp pain in her feet was growing unbearable. She had
been running around for hours now, coordina ng the event, and the
heels she’d chosen to wear felt like a terrible mistake. But she had
worn them to look more professional for the day. Omolara had been
clear; appearances ma er, and Precious wanted to do everything
possible to impress her.
As she walked the length of the room, her eyes scanned the crowd,
making sure everything was in order. She hurried to check in with the
videographers and live-streaming team. The event was going to start
47
soon, and everything and everyone needed to be ready. Sa sfied they

were good to go, she tried not to think about the tension she felt or the
unbearable pain in her feet.
Lord, she prayed silently, Is this what life is going to be like? Running
around, working myself into the ground? Please help me find
something be er.
She sighed, brushing off the ache as best she could. I just need to get
through today. She turned toward the stage, checking the setup,
when she felt someone’s presence beside her. Glancing up, her heart
skipped a beat. Gbenga, the Managing Director of Pinnacle Bank, was
standing right in front of her. Her pulse quickened as she straightened
herself, trying to keep calm.
“Good a ernoon, sir,” she said, her voice quieter than usual as she
tried to regain her composure.
Gbenga’s eyes dropped immediately to her shoes, his brows li ing in

amusement. “Are those the right shoes for this job?” His tone was
light, almost teasing, but his gaze held a hint of concern.
Precious’s cheeks flushed. She hadn’t expected him to no ce, let

alone comment on her shoes. “Oh, I just wanted to make sure I looked
professional today, sir,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
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Gateway To Heaven
Gbenga gave a so chuckle, shaking his head. “Professional? Maybe.

Comfortable? Definitely not. You look like you’re in pain.”
Precious lowered her eyes, embarrassed. He wasn’t wrong. She was in

pain. But how could she explain that she felt pressured to meet certain
expecta ons? “I didn’t want to disappoint my boss,” she admi ed
quietly.
“Well, you could s ll look professional without pu ng yourself

through this,” Gbenga said, his tone so but firm. “You’re running
around all day. Sneakers would make more sense, don’t you think?”
Precious hesitated. She didn’t know how to respond. He was right, of

course, but she felt so awkward standing there, having this
conversa on with someone like him. He wasn’t just her boss’s boss, he
was the Managing Director. Why was he even concerned with what
shoes she wore?
Before she could gather her thoughts, Gbenga con nued. “You know,
there’s a mall nearby. We could get you something more comfortable;
sneakers that’ll go well with your ou it.”
Precious blinked. He’s offering to take me shopping for shoes? Her

mind raced. This didn’t make any sense. He had a major event tonight,
and he was worried about her shoes? She shook her head quickly.
“Oh, no, sir. That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”
49
Gbenga’s expression so ened as he leaned in slightly. “I insist. You

shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”
Precious’s breath caught. Why is he doing this? She could feel her
heart speeding up. She barely knew him, and yet, here he was,
offering to take her shopping. What was going on?
“I... I can’t just leave,” she stammered. “What if my boss comes back
and I’m not here? I don’t want to get into trouble.”
Gbenga’s smile widened. “We’ll be back before anyone even no ces.

And if they do, I’ll take care of it.”
Precious felt her pulse quicken. The idea of leaving the venue with
him, even for a few minutes, felt risky. But his confidence and the way
he spoke as if everything would be okay made her tempted, especially
when ge ng the sneakers would bring relief. Besides, could she really
say no?
“I don’t want to be any trouble, sir,” she said, though her voice
wavered with uncertainty.
“Precious, you won’t be in any trouble,” he said, his voice gentle. “You
can trust me.”
The words lingered in the air, and Precious found herself lost in them.
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Gateway To Heaven
Trust him? She barely knew him, yet something in his tone and in the
way he looked at her made her feel a strange sense of calm.
She found herself nodding. “Okay, sir. If you insist.”
Gbenga’s smile brightened. “I do insist. Let’s go.”
Precious hesitated for just a moment longer before following him, her
mind a whirlwind of thoughts. What was happening? Yesterday, he
had insisted on giving her a ride and buying her dinner. Now, he was
taking her to buy shoes. Was this just a coincidence? Or was there
something more? The idea made her nervous but also curious. Why
would someone like him go out of his way for her?
As they walked out together, her feet s ll throbbed from the heels, but
her heart was pounding for en rely different reasons.
Gbenga leaned against the bou que counter, watching Precious move
cau ously around the store. She scanned the shelves, her eyes
se ling on a few sneakers that were in her size, but each me he asked
her if she liked one, she shook her head, quietly saying no. It was only
a er a few rounds of this that he started to no ce the pa ern: every
me she checked the price tag, she’d move on quickly. Gbenga felt a
mix of amusement and frustra on. He hadn’t considered that the cost
51
would be an issue for her, he just wanted her to choose what she liked.
“Don’t worry about the price,” he said, stepping closer. “Pick the one
you like.”
Precious gave him a hesitant smile and walked over to another shelf,
where she picked up a pair that looked plain and far less stylish than
the others—the cheapest pair. She held them out, her voice quiet but
firm. “I’ll go for these.”
Gbenga looked at the shoes, his brows furrowing. “No,” he said with a
shake of his head. “That’s not the pre est pair, and a pre y girl like
you should wear the pre est sneakers in this store.”
She blinked in surprise, but before she could say anything, he walked
over to another shelf and picked up a sleek, stylish pair that he
thought suited her be er. Handing them to her, he said, “Tell me the
truth. If you don’t like these, we’ll drop them, but if you do, I want you
to have them.”
Precious stared at the sneakers in her hands, her expression, a mixture

of confusion and hesita on. A er a few moments, she looked up at
him and asked, “Can I ask you something?”
Gbenga nodded. “Of course.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, her voice barely above
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Gateway To Heaven
a whisper. “I mean... I’m sorry if that sounds rude. I don’t mean to be

forward.”
Gbenga chuckled so ly, shaking his head. “That’s the problem, you’re
always apologising. Why are you always sorry?” His voice was warm,
but there was a deeper curiosity behind it. “It’s a valid ques on,
Precious. I don’t go around buying people shoes or taking them to
dinner. I’m too busy for that, so it’s fair that you’d ask.”
Precious shi ed uncomfortably, looking down at her hands. “So... why

are you doing this?” she pressed, her voice barely audible. “Why are
you being nice to me?”
For a moment, Gbenga considered his answer. He knew what he felt,

but he wasn’t ready to explain it yet. “I don’t think it’s the right me to
answer that,” he said finally. “If I told you, it might scare you.”
Her brows kni ed together in confusion. “Scare me? What do you

mean, sir?”
Gbenga didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at her, really taking

in her presence. The a rac on he felt wasn’t just physical, although
he couldn’t ignore the way she looked in her dress, her hourglass
figure and the way her hair framed her face effortlessly shining
through. But there was something deeper. He had been around
beau ful women for years, women who had openly flirted with him,
53
and none of them had captured his a en on like Precious had. It

wasn’t just her looks. It was the way she spoke, the way she carried
herself—so humble, yet strong. He could feel himself being pulled in,
and it startled him. Why do I like her this much? He had no answer for it
yet, but the feeling was undeniable.
Just as the tension between them built, his phone rang, breaking the
moment. “Take these to the counter,” he said, handing her the
sneakers. “I’ll meet you there.”
Precious nodded and walked off while Gbenga answered the call.

“Yeah?”
“Bro!” his brother’s voice boomed over the phone. “Where are you? I
want to see you before the event tonight. What’s going on? You’re
supposed to be taking it easy today, right?”
Gbenga glanced over at Precious as she waited by the counter, a small

smile playing on his lips. “I’m in the middle of something important.”
His brother laughed. “What? Sealing a big deal today?”
Gbenga chuckled. “Something like that,” he said and ended the call.
As he pocketed his phone, he no ced Precious watching him from

across the store. She’s checking me out, he thought with a smirk. Can’t
54
Gateway To Heaven
say I mind. He walked over to the counter and paid for the sneakers,
his mind s ll buzzing with the realisa on of how deep his feelings
were ge ng. Precious thanked him quietly as they le the bou que
together, her expression s ll filled with confusion, as if she was trying
to make sense of everything that just happened.
Precious felt the awkwardness se le in as soon as they le the store.

Gbenga led the way, and she followed, her mind racing. What is going
on? She couldn’t shake the weird feeling in her chest. Does he like me?
No, that couldn’t be it. It didn’t make sense. But why had he gone
through all this trouble, insis ng on buying her shoes, taking her to
dinner last night? She’d never dealt with anyone like him before, and it
was making her nervous.
As they approached the car, Precious’s thoughts spiralled. This is so

weird. Oh my God, this is awkward. When they sat down, she glanced
over at him, trying to figure him out. Her stomach twisted at the
thought that he was probably just looking for something casual. A
fling? A booty call? She swallowed hard, her discomfort growing.
There’s no way he could be interested in me for real. She felt a cold
shiver of dread. I didn’t come all the way from Nigeria to sleep with
some Managing Director. She cleared her throat, feeling her nerves
get the be er of her.
55
“Sir, thank you so much for your kindness, but I think I should just... I
can take a taxi back to the event centre,” she said, her voice unsteady.
Gbenga shook his head, not missing a beat. “Nope. I brought you here.
I’ll take you back myself.”
Great. Precious’s anxiety spiked. Why is he doing this? Her mind raced
with ques ons. What if Omolara or someone from the event sees us
together? What will they think? This is so awkward.
She glanced at Gbenga again, no cing how his gaze lingered on her for
just a second too long. Oh God, he’s definitely interested. The
realisa on hit her like a punch to the gut. He wants to sleep with me.
What am I going to do? Under her breath, she whispered a quick
prayer. Lord, help me get out of this situa on. I don’t want to be here.
The silence in the car was suffoca ng un l Gbenga broke it with an

unexpected ques on. “How old are you, Precious?”
She blinked, startled by the ques on. “I’m thirty, sir.”
Gbenga raised his eyebrows. “You could easily pass for twenty-five,”
he said with a smile.
Precious gave him a ght smile in return, trying to keep the

conversa on polite, but internally, she was s ll freaking out. Why does
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Gateway To Heaven
he care how old I am?
Then Gbenga turned to her, his voice casual but deliberate. “Can I have
your number? I want to be able to contact you a er this.”
Her pulse quickened. Why does he want my number? She immediately

reached into her pocket. “I can give you our card,” she offered, her
hands fumbling for the business card as she pulled it out and handed it
to him.
Gbenga chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced at the card. “If I

wanted the card, I wouldn’t have asked for your number. I saw your
boss this morning—I don’t need business services. I have a team to
handle that. I want your number.”
Precious felt her heart pound faster. This isn’t professional. She shook
her head slightly, unsure of how to respond. “Sir, I don’t think that
would be appropriate... I’m not trying to take my boss’s client or
anything. I’m just trying to do my job.”
Gbenga sighed, but his smile remained. “I don’t think you get it,” he
said calmly. “I don’t care about the business. Your boss can keep all the
events. I want to be able to contact you again.”
The words hung in the air, and Precious’s stomach flipped. She
couldn’t find a way out of this. This is bad. Really bad. A er a long
57
pause, she finally gave in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay,
sir...” She reluctantly recited her number.
Gbenga’s grin widened. “Gracias,” he said, quickly pulling out his

phone and typing in the number. A second later, her phone pinged
with a message.
“That’s from me,” he said, his tone casual but deliberate. “Save my
number. My name is Gbenga.”
Precious’s hands were shaky as she picked up her phone, seeing his
message pop up on WhatsApp: Hi.
“Thank you, sir,” she said weakly, unsure of what else to say.
Gbenga’s tone shi ed, becoming more familiar. “No more ‘sir. Just
Gbenga is fine.”
Precious froze, the realisa on hi ng her like a ton of bricks. I’m in

trouble.
58
CHAPTER FOUR
Yemoli’s voice filled the room, his performance commanding the

a en on of the en re crowd. The atmosphere was electric, and for
everyone around Gbenga, the night seemed to be going perfectly. He
sat at the VVIP table with General Managers from across Africa’s
Pinnacle Bank branches, their laughter and conversa ons flowing
with ease. But for him, something felt off.
"How does it feel to have the great Yemoli as your brother?" someone
asked, gesturing toward the stage with a smile.
Gbenga gave a polite nod. “It’s great to have him here,” he said,
shrugging. “but at the end of the day, to me, he’s just Yemi, my
brother.”
The response earned a few chuckles, but Gbenga’s a en on wasn’t

on the conversa on. His eyes wandered across the room, scanning the
crowd. He’d seen Omolara pass by several mes, ensuring everything
was running smoothly, but not Precious. There was no sign of her.
59
Where is she?
He leaned back in his chair, pretending to focus on Yemoli’s

performance, but the itch to check his phone grew stronger. His
fingers tapped on the table restlessly. I shouldn’t message her. The
way she had seemed uncomfortable in the car earlier stuck with him,
and he didn’t want to push her. But s ll, he felt the pull to check on her.
His hand reached for his phone before he could stop himself. He could
ask how things are going. Nothing inappropriate. He opened
WhatsApp, fiddling to find the chat with Precious where he had said
“Hi” earlier. Without overthinking it, he typed.
How is it going for you? We’re enjoying the party. You guys did a great
job with the planning. Just checking in on you.
As soon as he hit send, Gbenga dropped his phone back on the table,
exhaling sharply. Why am I doing this? The logical side of his brain told
him to just relax and enjoy the night. He had no reason to be this
worked up. He’d barely known her for more than a day.
The music swelled, and the crowd responded enthusias cally to

Yemoli’s performance, but Gbenga wasn’t listening. He waited, half-
expec ng that Precious wouldn’t respond. She was probably busy,
caught up in the chaos of managing the event, but then his phone lit
up. Precious had replied. He picked up the phone, scanning the
message quickly, and his brow furrowed in confusion:
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Gateway To Heaven
Sir, please leave me alone. There’s no need for you to chat with me. I
appreciate the compliment about the event, but it’s my boss’s work,
and I don’t want to get into trouble.
Gbenga’s jaw ghtened. Why was she being so distant? Everything

had been fine earlier, hadn't it? He replayed their interac ons in his
head, trying to pinpoint where things might have gone wrong. This
makes no sense. Something had obviously triggered her response, but
he couldn’t figure out what. He typed back, a bit irritated at her
response, but he tried to not let it show in his message.
Are you okay? Did something happen to make you sound this way?
He knew something had to be off. This wasn’t just her being

professional—this felt like she was shu ng him out completely.
Her response came almost instantly: No, sir. Please just leave me
alone.
Gbenga stared at the screen, his grip ghtening around his phone.
What is going on? He had been nothing but polite, careful even. Now,
all of a sudden, she was pushing him away? His mood shi ed
completely, a low heat building in his chest. This was ridiculous.
He dropped the phone on the table with more force than he intended,
the weight of her words sinking in. The night, the celebra on, the
61
success of the event, his brother’s performance, none of it seemed to

ma er anymore.
Why am I le ng this get to me? he thought, clenching his jaw. He had

been working on the Pinnacle project for over a year, carefully
balancing every detail. He was a professional, someone who was
always in control. Yet here he was, le ng a girl he’d just met throw him
off completely. This is insane. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the fact
that Precious, someone he barely knew, had managed to slip into his
thoughts so deeply that it was ruining his night. He didn’t like that his
mood had changed because of her. But the truth was, no ma er how
much he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling this
way.
As Yemoli hit another high note, and the crowd cheered, Gbenga sat
there, barely aware of the performance. His thoughts were no longer
on the party, the music, or the celebra on. They were on Precious.
And it annoyed him a great deal.
Precious stood rooted to the spot, her heart pounding in her chest as
Omolara’s words lashed at her like a whip. They had barely le the
main event hall when Omolara spun on her, eyes blazing with fury. The
secluded space they were standing in felt even smaller with the
intensity of her anger.
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Gateway To Heaven
“Do you think I didn’t see you?” Omolara’s voice was venomous, her
tone sharp and cu ng. “I saw you get out of his car—the MD of the
very bank we’re working for! Do you have any idea what kind of
nonsense that is?”
Precious opened her mouth, desperate to explain, but Omolara’s

voice overpowered her.
“I gave you this opportunity. I brought you all the way from Nigeria,”
she con nued, her words spi ng like fire. “I showed you a different
part of the world, and this is how you repay me? Running around with
the MD, embarrassing me in front of everyone? You girls are all the
same—useless! Someone gives you a chance, and you use it to chase
a er men. What is wrong with you?”
Precious tried to find her voice, but the panic in her chest was
overwhelming. “Ma, it wasn’t like that, I…”
Omolara cut her off again, her voice cold as steel. “I know your type.
You act innocent and mid, but you’re just wai ng for an opportunity
to throw yourself at any powerful man who glances in your direc on.
Do you think I haven’t seen it before? Girls like you are a dime a
dozen.”
The words stung, hi ng Precious in a way that made her stomach

twist with shame. This isn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. But
63
the more she tried to protest, the more her voice felt trapped in her
throat.
“Do you think a man like that cares about you?” Omolara scoffed, eyes
narrowing in disgust. “He’ll sleep with you, toss you aside, and then
what? You’ll have nothing. No job, no respect—nothing.”
“Ma, please, you’ve got it all wrong…” Precious’s voice trembled, but
Omolara wasn’t listening.
“Enough!” she snapped, silencing her. “You’re fired. I don’t want to

work with someone like you. Tomorrow, you’ll be on the first flight
back to Nigeria, and I don’t ever want to see your face in my office
again. Do you hear me?”
Fired. The word hit Precious like a punch to the gut. Just like that,
everything she had worked for was over. The opportunity to travel, to
work on something as big as this event—it was all gone, crumbling
right in front of her, and there was nothing she could do.
“I’ll find someone else to handle the post-event work. You’re done
here. Get out of my sight,” Omolara spat before storming off, leaving
Precious standing there, stunned and broken.
Precious could hardly breathe as the reality of what had just

happened sank in. I’ve lost everything. The weight of it all crashed
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Gateway To Heaven
down on her, and her legs felt weak beneath her. Her phone buzzed in
her hand. Gbenga. She didn’t even want to look, but her trembling
fingers opened the message: Can I see you later tonight? Maybe we
can discuss how you're feeling.
The message sent a fresh wave of frustra on and despair through her.
How I’m feeling? She was already on the verge of breaking down, and
now he wanted to meet up? As if this wasn’t his fault to begin with?
Her fingers flew over the screen, fueled by a mix of anger and sadness:
Sir, I’ve lost my job because of you. I can’t do this anymore. Please
don’t contact me again.
She hit send, and without a second thought, blocked his number on
WhatsApp. She switched to her phone se ngs and blocked his calls
too. I’m done.
The adrenaline le her body all at once, and she collapsed to the
ground, her knees hi ng the floor as the sobs broke free. The tears
came fast, hot, and uncontrollable. This can’t be happening. She had
tried so hard to make this opportunity work. Coming to Ethiopia was
supposed to be a fresh start, a step forward in her career, but instead,
it had turned into a complete disaster. She pressed her hands against
her face, her shoulders shaking with the force of her crying. God, what
am I going to do? she thought desperately. What am I going to do
when I get back to Nigeria?
65
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she whispered brokenly to herself.

“I tried. I tried so hard, and everything s ll fell apart.”
Si ng there on the cold floor, Precious let the despair wash over her.
The weight of failure pressed down on her so heavy, it felt impossible
to move. She had given her all to make this work, and now it felt like
the end of everything she’d hoped for.
Gbenga’s mood had soured long before the event drew to a close. The
speeches had made sense, Yemoli’s performance had been electric,
the party a resounding success, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of
discomfort that had se led deep in his gut. The congratula ons and
compliments from his fellow MDs felt hollow as he said goodbye to
them, and even though he smiled and nodded at their praise, his mind
was elsewhere.
As he turned away from the crowd, his driver appeared at his side. “Sir,
should I bring the car around?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’ll walk for a bit.”
He moved through the hall aimlessly, hands in his pockets, his eyes
scanning the room. Where is she? He hadn’t seen Precious all evening,
and her phone was s ll switched off. Every message he had sent since
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their earlier exchange had gone undelivered, and now his irrita on
was growing into something closer to panic.
His PA approached him next. “Sir, do you need anything?”
Gbenga waved him off with a polite smile. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
A few steps later, Eunice came over, looking pleased with herself. “Sir,
do you need anything?”
Gbenga stopped, forcing a smile. “Good job, Eunice. You and the
events team did a great job. Everything went smoothly.”
Eunice beamed. “Thank you, sir! The events company was very
efficient. They…”
“Thank you,” Gbenga cut in, his tone distracted. “You all did good.”
He con nued walking, his eyes searching the room. Where is

Precious? He was about to leave when he spo ed Omolara and Susan
toward the back of the hall. Without thinking, he changed direc on,
making his way swi ly over to them. As he neared, his heart sank.
Precious wasn’t with them. He didn’t want to believe that she was
truly fired.
Gbenga knew he was about to mess up by asking about Precious

67
directly from Omolara and in Susan’s presence, but he couldn’t stop

himself. He had to know. “I’m sorry, have you seen your assistant?” His
voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.
Omolara’s expression ghtened. Gbenga could see the irrita on in her

eyes even though she tried to mask it with a polite smile. She knew
exactly what he was asking. “Oh, sir, she’s fine. I sent her away.”
Gbenga frowned. “Sent her away? Where?”
Omolara hesitated, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Actually, she’s been badly behaved tonight. I fired her.”
“Fired her?” Gbenga’s voice sharpened. “On what basis? The girl has
worked well.”
Omolara raised her chin, her tone cold. “Sir, you don’t know her. You
don’t know anything about her. She’s not what she seems.”
Gbenga’s jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous.” But he knew he couldn’t

push too hard without raising suspicion. He forced himself to nod.
“Alright, thanks.”
He turned and walked away, his stomach twis ng with frustra on.
What happened? Why was she fired? He had no way of finding out
more, no way of asking Omolara for details without making things
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worse. Damn it.
Behind him, Omolara’s voice dri ed through the air, gossiping to

Susan. “Ah, all these useless Nigerian men. I don’t even get it. He
probably has a wife and kids somewhere, and now he’s in Ethiopia
chasing a er a young girl.”
Susan’s response was calm, almost amused. “He’s actually not

married. He’s single, very single. And it’s surprising that he’s paying
a en on to an assistant. It’s not like him. Trust me, I’ve been around.
His reputa on is spotless.”
Omolara huffed. “Are you sure? This guy’s behaviour tells me

otherwise. How can he be so interested in her a er just one day? I
wouldn’t be surprised if something has already happened.”
Susan shook her head. “Between yesterday and today? Come on.”
“I’ve seen things in this industry,” Omolara said with a knowing tone.
“Crazy things happen, and don’t forget that we saw her come down
from his car.”
Susan shrugged. “But did you really fire her? She seemed like a good
girl.”
“I can’t risk it,” she mu ered. “Before you know it, she’ll take over
69
everything. I can’t be that careless.”
Gbenga, s ll within earshot, felt his chest ghten. So Precious had

really been fired. This is my fault. He couldn’t shake the guilt that
se led in his gut knowing he was the reason she was now jobless in a
foreign country. He tried her number again as he walked toward the
exit. Nothing. It was s ll switched off. Where could she be? His
frustra on deepened as he reached for his phone again, hoping to get
a response from her. S ll nothing.
Just as he stepped outside, his sister, Adewumi, appeared with a broad

smile on her face. “Oh my God! You guys threw such an amazing
party!” she gushed. “Now it’s me for the a er-party! Yemoli is taking
us somewhere, and you have to come.”
Gbenga shook his head, barely able to muster a smile. “I can’t go

tonight, Ade. There’s somewhere else I need to be.”
Adewumi’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Where? What’s more important

than the a er-party?”
Gbenga exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know. I
can’t reach her. I’m frustrated.”
Adewumi raised an eyebrow. “Ah, my brother is in love. Is it about that

girl you met yesterday?”
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Gateway To Heaven
Gbenga shot her a look. “Adewumi, keep your voice down. Somebody
could hear you.”
Adewumi laughed. “Let them hear! It’s about me you got caught up
in something like this. A girl has finally thrown you off your game.”
Gbenga shook his head, the frustra on gnawing at him. “I can’t reach
her. Her number isn’t going through.”
Adewumi’s smile so ened. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know...” he mu ered, his voice trailing off as the gravity of the

situa on weighed him down. “I don’t even know where she is.”
71
CHAPTER FIVE
Precious heaved her bag into the overhead compartment, her arms
trembling as exhaus on tugged at every muscle. The so murmur of
passengers filled the cabin, but she barely registered the sounds. Her
thoughts were miles away, s ll replaying the whirlwind of events that
had led her here. She sank into her window seat, closing her eyes for a
brief moment, overwhelmed with feelings of despair and sadness.
God, what happened? How did everything fall apart so quickly?
The memories hit her like a wave. Omolara’s harsh words. The shame.
Si ng on the cold floor a er being fired. Her heart sha ered into a
thousand pieces. She had cried un l no more tears would come, her
body drained of energy and hope. Gbenga had been nearby, walking
around the event hall, but she had made sure to avoid him. The last
thing she needed was for him to see her like that.
She had rushed back to the hotel, barely able to breathe as she packed
her belongings in a fran c blur. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay
72
there another second. And so, with a heavy heart and no plan, she’d
headed straight to the airport even though her flight wasn’t un l 7
a.m. She arrived at midnight, failure clinging to her as she sat,
watching travellers come and go. The air hostesses had caught her
a en on, moving with such grace, their uniforms crisp and flawless.
How do they do it, she wondered in her despair. How do they look so
calm and composed, when everything feels like it’s falling apart?
Now, here she was, seated in the plane, about to take off. She was
exhausted, drained, and broken, but even in that state, she no ced
how the flight a endants were moving through the cabin, checking
seat belts, assis ng passengers, and preparing for departure. As the
plane taxied down the runway, ready to leave the shores of Ethiopia,
Precious felt the ache in her heart grow heavier. She quickly
whispered a quiet prayer under her breath, her eyes flu ering shut.
God, You see my heart. You know I didn’t want any of this. I wasn’t a er
that man. I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. Why did this happen? Why
did You let it happen?
The plane began to pick up speed, and she gripped the armrest ghtly,
feeling her stomach drop as they ascended into the sky. The familiar
pressure in her ears made her swallow, but it was nothing compared
to the lump in her throat.
God, I don’t understand. Please, show me the lesson in this. Please,

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Gateway To Heaven
don’t let me be put to shame.
The seatbelt sign blinked off with a so chime, and the flight

a endants began moving around the cabin again, this me offering
drinks and snacks. Precious barely no ced them this me, lost in her
thoughts, but when they reached her row, she smiled weakly and
accepted the water and a small packet of biscuits, mumbling her
thanks. She placed them on the tray in front of her, too emo onally
exhausted to eat or drink.
What am I going to do when I get back to Nigeria? The thought hit her
with the force of a freight train. What will I say to everyone? They’ll ask
how the trip was, they’ll expect stories and pictures, and I don’t have a
thing to show them. The realisa on struck her hard, and she rubbed
her temples, trying to soothe the growing headache. She hadn’t taken
a single photo during her me in Ethiopia; not at the airport, not at the
hotel, and not even during the event she’d helped plan. What do I
have to show for this trip? Nothing. Not even proof that I was here.
Her fingers fumbled for her phone, and she opened the camera app.
With a sigh, she li ed it and took a quick selfie by the window. The
dark sky outside reflected faintly in the glass, the lights of the plane
cas ng a so glow over her red face. She looked at the photo for a
moment before se ng the phone down. It didn’t ma er. None of it
ma ered.
74
The flight a endants moved gracefully around the cabin, and Precious
found herself watching them again. Their calm demeanour and the
way they interacted with passengers, offering help and providing
comfort, fascinated her. How do they do it? How do they stay so
composed when everything feels so out of control? A flee ng thought
crossed her mind: Could I ever do that? Could I ever have that kind of
composure? She quickly dismissed it, shaking her head. No, I’m not
that kind of person. I just need to get back home and figure out my
next step. But the thought lingered, somewhere in the back of her
mind.
The hum of the plane engine was steady and almost soothing as they
soared through the sky. Precious leaned back in her seat, closing her
eyes again. God, I don’t know what You’re doing, but I trust You. Please,
help me. Show me what You want me to learn from this. Her mind
dri ed as she thought about the people she would face back home.
What would they say when they found out? What would they think of
her? The fear of judgement weighed heavy on her, the shame of
failure ghtening its grip. She opened her eyes and glanced at the
flight a endants once more. There they were, doing their jobs with
such grace. How do they stay so composed in the face of so much
chaos?
Precious felt a small flicker of something s r inside her—was it

admira on? Or perhaps envy? She didn’t know. But something about
the way they moved and carried themselves sparked a thought deep
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Gateway To Heaven
within her. Could that be something I could do? Could I ever be as calm
and confident as them? She dismissed the thought again, this me
with a sad smile. No. It’s just a flee ng idea. I’m not cut out for
something like that.
As the flight con nued, Precious sat in silence, praying quietly under
her breath, clinging to the only source of comfort she had le . God,
whatever happens next, please, let it be be er than this. I need You. I
can’t do life without You.
The plane carried her forward, but her heart was s ll heavy, weighed
down by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
Hours Later
The familiar chime of the seatbelt sign echoed through the cabin,
signalling the end of the flight. Precious opened her eyes, blinking
against the so light as the announcement came over the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for

landing at Murtala Muhammed Interna onal Airport in Lagos.”
She clicked her seatbelt into place and glanced around the cabin.
Passengers were beginning to s r, adjus ng blankets and tucking
76
away the last remnants of their in-flight snacks. One of the air
hostesses was helping an elderly woman in the row ahead to gently
remove the blanket from her lap and assis ng her in packing up her
things. The air hostess’s smile was so and pa ent.
That’s what you should be doing.
The thought struck Precious so suddenly that she straightened in her

seat. “What?” Her mind replayed the moment, watching the hostess’s
graceful movements.
That’s my assignment for you.
A so realisa on bloomed in her chest. Could it be? Am I supposed to

be an air hostess?
Her eyes followed the air hostess as she moved down the aisle, s ll
offering help to passengers with an ease that Precious found
mesmerising.
Yes. The answer was clear, resona ng in her spirit. This is what you
should be doing—serving people. Helping them.
Her heart swelled with hope, the cloud of disappointment that had
weighed on her for days li ing. I could do that, she thought,
excitement bubbling up inside her. I could help people, just like her.
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Gateway To Heaven
Every encounter would be an opportunity to serve, to connect with

people from all over the world, even if I only meet them once.
She imagined herself moving through the plane, offering kindness and
care, showing a side of Jesus to passengers that they might never have
experienced before. This isn’t about just being nice. It’s about sharing
my faith, even without saying a word. Some might even ask her, Why
are you so kind? Why are you so pa ent? And then, she could point
them to Christ. The weight of Omolara’s words suddenly felt small and
insignificant. My kindness isn’t a weakness, Precious realised, feeling
a surge of confidence. It’s my strength. It’s how I show people who I
really am.
As the plane began its descent, her heart raced with renewed
purpose. Maybe this is why everything happened the way it did.
Maybe this was the plan all along.
The moment the plane touched down in Lagos, Precious felt a strange
mix of exhaus on and exhilara on.. She grabbed her bag from the
overhead compartment and followed the crowd out of the plane, her
steps lighter than they had been in days. The humid Lagos air hit her
the second she stepped off the plane, a stark contrast to the cold,
controlled environment of the aircra . She made her way through the
airport, weaving through the throngs of travellers un l she reached
78
baggage claim. Grabbing her luggage, she felt lighter and happier. No
more five bags to grapple with, thank God. Unlike when she had flown
to Ethiopia, this me, she had just one box to deal with. She sent a
quick message to her sister:
I’ll be in Abule-Egba in about two hours. I’ll call when I’m close,
depending on traffic.
With that, she headed towards the main bus stop outside the airport.
There was no taxi wai ng for her this me, no special treatment or
execu ve service. And that’s okay, she told herself, feeling a strange
comfort in the normalcy of it all.
Ge ng a bus at the bus stop was filled with the usual chaos of Lagos.
People rushing around, calling out, brushing past each other. At one
point, someone even tried to steal her seat, but the conductor
stepped in, waving her forward and telling her to sit in the front.
Precious smiled at him in thanks as he helped carry her luggage and
placed it in the boot.
As she se led into her seat, a so chuckle escaped her lips. The
contrast between the plane ride and this rowdy bus was hilarious.
Only hours ago, she had been seated in luxury, flying thousands of feet
in the air. Now, she was crammed into a busy bus, headed for Abule-
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Egba. But she didn’t mind. God was with her in both places. As the bus
began to rumble forward, her mind briefly flickered to Gbenga. He was
a fine man, she couldn’t deny that, and she smiled to herself, amused
at her admission. Her thoughts wandered back to the way he had
looked at her and the small gestures of kindness that had taken her by
surprise, but she reminded herself that he was probably like every
other rich guy, looking for a quick fling. She shook her head, thankful
she hadn’t fallen for it. It didn’t ma er how rich he was, she wouldn’t
let herself get caught in something like that. S ll, a small part of her
wondered. There was something different about him. While they had
dinner, he spoke about his faith. Could a man like that have ulterior
reasons? She dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Whatever
his reasons, they weren’t genuine.
Shi ing her thoughts to the instruc on she received on the plane, she
pulled out her phone and quickly googled: “How to become an air
hostess with Ethiopian Airlines.” She smiled to herself as she scrolled
through the search results, her heart filled with the possibility of what
was to come.
Precious leaned back in her seat, feeling the bumpy roads beneath her
but not caring as the bus sped down the express, compe ng for its
share of the road through traffic. With a renewed sense of peace, she
smiled as she closed her eyes, a new hope filling her heart. This was
the start of something new, and God was leading the way.
80
Gbenga sat in his office, staring blankly at the screen of his phone. The
constant pings of congratulatory messages flooded in, celebra ng
Pinnacle Bank’s one year anniversary under his leadership. “Well
done, sir!” “The event was spectacular!” “Congratula ons on your
success!” “Cheers to another great year ahead!” He sighed,
responding politely to each message, but his thoughts were
somewhere else en rely. His team came in and out of his office
throughout the day, asking for approvals, feedback, and signatures on
documents. They were se ng up commi ees to review plans for the
next year, a cri cal step for Pinnacle’s future, but Gbenga couldn’t
focus. His mind kept dri ing back to her.
Precious.
Every few minutes, he would glance at his phone, checking to see if his
messages to her had been delivered. They hadn’t. Every call he made
went straight to voicemail. His frustra on grew by the hour. Why am I
so bothered by this? He gripped his phone ghter, resis ng the urge to
send another message.
“Move on, Gbenga. It’s not a big deal.” he mu ered to himself. But the
more he tried to convince himself, the more his mind spun in circles.
I just met this girl. Why am I so a ached? The thought nagged at him.
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He had been on top of the world for the past year, handling mul -
million-dollar deals and managing an en re bank without ever ge ng
sidetracked. So why, a er just two days, was this girl domina ng his
thoughts?
A knock on the door snapped him back to reality. His assistant stepped
in with another batch of reports, and Gbenga waved him off,
mumbling something about finishing it tomorrow. He couldn’t focus
anymore. He stood up and grabbed his things, deciding to leave the
office early for the first me in months.
When Gbenga arrived at his hotel suite, his mood had further
dampened. Not knowing if she was okay or not since his messages
weren’t delivering troubled him greatly. Even if she didn’t speak to
him again because she blamed him for losing her job, and rightly so, he
just wanted to know she was okay. He was thinking of his next move
and had expected to come back to peace and quiet when instead, he
walked into chaos. The suite had been transformed into a mini party,
with music blaring, people laughing, and the unmistakable scent of
alcohol and smoke filling the air. A few women were lounging on the
couches, and at the centre of it all was his brother, Yemoli, with a glass
raised high.
“Bro! This is all for you! I’m throwing a surprise party for my big
brother, who is sha ering ceilings in the corporate world! The one and
only son Dad is proud of!” Yemoli called out, grinning from ear to ear.
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Gbenga’s jaw clenched as he scanned the room, his irrita on building.

“Why is this happening in my suite?” He was about to explode when
Adewumi, appeared and quickly grabbing him by the arm, pulling him
into his bedroom.
“Let’s go talk before you blow up,” she said in a hushed tone, closing
the door behind them.
“Why is this happening at my place, Adewumi?” Gbenga snapped,

pacing the room. “When are you both leaving?”
Adewumi sighed, si ng on the edge of the bed. “Tomorrow. Yemoli’s

leaving tomorrow, so he thought he’d throw this party tonight to
celebrate with you. I told him you wouldn’t like it, but you know how
he is when he’s determined.”
“You should’ve convinced him not to do this. I am not in the mood for a
party. I just want to be alone.” he said, running a hand through his hair,
his frustra on moun ng. “Are you sure you guys are leaving tomorrow
because I am over this visit already.”
Adewumi crossed her arms, looking hurt. “Big brother, so you want us
gone just like that? You know Yemoli is always on tour, travelling. This
is the first me in years we’re all in the same city at the same me, in
the same place. I was even thinking of calling Mom…”
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Gateway To Heaven
“Don’t.” Gbenga cut her off sharply, shaking his head.
Adewumi chuckled. “Well, whether you like it or not, Mummy says

we’re having your for eth birthday party in Lagos next month so you
can’t escape us. We’ll all be under one roof again.”
Gbenga rolled his eyes, barely paying a en on to her words. “That’s

the least of my worries right now. Can you just. give me some space?”
Adewumi raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. “You are never

like this even when we stress you. You enjoy us being around. Tell me,
what’s really going on. Is it s ll about that girl? She’s not picking your
calls, is she?”
Gbenga hesitated, his hands falling to his sides. “I don’t understand it.
One minute she’s telling me to leave her alone, and the next minute,
my messages aren’t even delivering. What if something happened to
her? What if her boss did something or...” His voice trailed off, a deep
frown se ling on his face. “What if she... What if she hurt herself?”
Adewumi’s eyes widened. “Hurt herself? Big Bro, don’t be ridiculous.

Why are you jumping to extremes?”
Gbenga shook his head, frustrated with himself. “I’m just... I’m
worried. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s driving me crazy. I
barely know her, and now it feels like she’s all I can think about. It’s
84
messing with my head.”
Adewumi gave him a knowing smile. “You sound like a character from
one of those romance novels or stories on BellaNaijaweddings. Falling
in love overnight? Really, Gbenga? Come on.”
“It’s not like that.” he mu ered, pacing the room again. “I don’t know
what it is.”
Adewumi smirked. “Wait, you said she told you not to contact her
again?”
Gbenga nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Then everything went

silent. No messages, no calls. Nothing.”
Adewumi’s eyes lit up, and she chuckled. “Ha! She blocked you.”
Gbenga stared at her, confused. “Blocked? Why would she block me?
I’m not some creep she’s trying to avoid.”
Adewumi raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just telling you,
bro. Girls block guys all the me when they want them off their backs.
Maybe she thought you were being too persistent.”
Gbenga’s frown deepened. “But I wasn’t even persistent. Why would

she block me so quickly?”
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Gateway To Heaven
Adewumi shrugged. “It happens. I’m not saying for sure, but it’s
possible. Here’s what we’ll do, I’ll call her myself. Give me her
number.”
Gbenga hesitated for a moment then handed over Precious’s number.

Adewumi quickly dialled the number, pu ng the phone on speaker.
Gbenga crossed his arms, convinced it wouldn’t ring. It did.
Once, twice, and then—
“Hello?” Precious’s voice came through the speaker.
Gbenga’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”
Precious sat on the edge of her bed, her phone between her hands as
she spoke with her sister, Hannah. The usual cha er filled the room,
but her mind was elsewhere.
“So, how was the trip?” Hannah asked excitedly. “Come on, show us
the pictures! You’ve been quiet for too long!”
Precious hesitated, her fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress
as she stared down at her phone. “I didn’t take any pictures,” she
admi ed quietly.
86
“What? No pictures?” Hannah’s surprise was palpable, her voice

rising with confusion. “You went all the way to Ethiopia and didn’t
snap a single photo? What happened?”
Precious sighed, rubbing her temples. “I got fired, Hannah.”
There was a moment of silence before Hannah gasped. “Fired? How?

What happened?”
Precious drew in a deep breath, her voice heavy. “Omolara saw me

ge ng out of the car of Mr Ayo-Douglas, the MD of Pinnacle Bank in
Ethiopia, and she just lost it. She assumed I was... Well, you know…”
She trailed off, shaking her head. “She thought I was trying to get
involved with him or something. I wasn’t, but she didn’t care. She fired
me right then and there.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Hannah’s voice became more animated. “You’re

telling me the MD of Pinnacle Bank was paying a en on to you, and
Omolara thought you were ge ng involved with him? What do you
mean ‘paying a en on sef’? Did anything happen?”
Precious shi ed uncomfortably, thinking about the situa on all over

again. “Nothing happened. He was just being kind. But you know how
these things go. He’s a powerful man, and men like that don’t just
no ce people like me for no reason.”
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Gateway To Heaven
“Ah, Precious, what kind of thinking is that?” Hannah said,

incredulous. “You don’t know him. What if he’s not like that? What if
he actually likes you?”
Precious scoffed, shaking her head. “Please, Hannah A man like that
can’t genuinely like me. I’m just some assistant and he’s this big-shot
MD. It doesn’t make sense.”
“You don’t know that,” Hannah countered. “What if he’s not married?
What if he really saw something in you?”
Before Precious could answer, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the
screen—a strange number. “One second, Hannah.” Frowning, she
picked it up. “Hello? Hello?” she said, but there was nothing on the
other end of the line, just silence.
“Hello? Who’s there?” she repeated, her voice rising in frustra on.
When no one responded, she cut the call and sighed. “Weird. That
strange number again,” she mu ered, shaking her head, only for her
phone to ring again. She stared at her screen, not sure what to do .
“Is it the number again?” Hannah asked. Precious nodded. “Are you
going to pick it up? It might be network.”
With a slight hesita on, Precious answered. “Hello?”

88
A pause, then a familiar voice came through the line. “Precious! It’s
Gbenga. Gbenga Ayo-Douglas, from Pinnacle Bank.”
Precious’s breath hitched. “Sir, why are you calling me with a strange
number?”
“Because you blocked me,” Gbenga said, his voice nged with anger
and pent up frustra on “I’ve been worried about you. I tried reaching
out but nothing went through. Why did you block me?”
Precious felt her pulse quicken. “Why are you worried about me?
What am I to you that you’re so concerned about me?”
There was a pause, then Gbenga’s voice so ened. “Precious, I know

this might sound strange, but... I like you. I didn’t want to make you
uncomfortable. I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you
since we met. I know you might think I’m just some privileged man
trying to take advantage of you, but that’s not the case. That’s not who
I am.”
“You’re not married?” Precious blurted out before she could stop
herself, while Hannah gestured to her to put the phone on speaker.
Precious obliged.
“No, I’m not. I don’t have children either,” Gbenga replied. “I haven’t
been with anyone in years.”
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Precious blinked, feeling her throat ghten. “But we just met this
week. It’s not like... How could you like me already?”
Gbenga’s voice was steady. “I don’t have all the answers, Precious. I
just know that from the moment I met you, I felt something I haven’t
felt in a long me. I’m not rushing anything. I just want to get to know
you be er. Do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re resis ng me?”
Precious shook her head ins nc vely then realised he couldn’t see
her. “No…” she said so ly then cleared her throat, her voice louder
and more confident. “No, I don’t. But it’s not about that. I don’t know
you, and... “ she trailed off, not sure if she should finish her thought
while Hannah observed her curiously.
“And what?” Gbenga prompted. He needed to know all her

reserva ons.
“We’re not… We’re not on the same level. You’re... you, and I’m just...
me.”
Gbenga let out a so chuckle. “You’re right. We’re different in some

ways. But that doesn’t ma er to me. I don’t care about levels. I just
want to explore this and see where it goes. But first, I need you to
unblock me. I don’t want to keep calling from my sister’s phone. She
leaves tomorrow. Please, unblock me so we can talk properly.”
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Precious hesitated, her mind racing. “Okay, sir. I’ll unblock you.”
“Just Gbenga,” he corrected gently. “No more ‘sir.’”
At that moment, Hannah burst into laughter, but s fled it by pu ng a

hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with curiosity. “It’s like you didn’t
come back from Ethiopia empty handed o”
Precious quickly hushed her, holding up her hand. “Okay, Gbenga. I’ll
unblock you.” she said and quickly ended the call, her hands trembling
slightly as she prepared to unblock him.
“That was the MD, right?” Hannah stated, her eyes gleaming with
excitement. “See! I told you he might really like you. Please, I’m ready
for this story! Tell me, how did you two meet?:
Precious, who was processing her conversa on with Gbenga finally

focused on her sister, giving her a slightly scolding look. ”I don’t know
why you are excited.”
“Why won’t I be? And you said you didn’t bring anything back from
Ethiopia, eh? I think you brought something back a er all!” Hannah
teased, winking playfully.
Precious couldn’t help but smile as she finally unblocked Gbenga’s
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number, her heart bea ng faster with each passing second.
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CHAPTER SIX
One Month Later
Gbenga folded the last of his shirts into his suitcase, glancing around
the luxurious hotel suite that had been his home for the past year. He
had grown accustomed to the presiden al suite’s high ceilings and
panoramic views of Addis Ababa, but now, as he packed up his life, he
felt a peaceful sense of closure. His assistant had finally found him a
house to rent—something he had postponed for months. Before, it
had never been important to se le down. But now... maybe it was.
For the past month, he and Precious had been talking almost every
day. It started with casual chats, but the more they spoke, the more
Gbenga realised how much he liked her—her simplicity, her faith, and
her quiet determina on to succeed in life, even though her goals
always seemed too small to him. She had found another job a er
being fired from Omolara’s events company. Her mother had helped
her secure a role at the Ministry of Environment in Lagos.
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Lagos State Government, he thought, shaking his head. She was

happy there, but every me she spoke about it, Gbenga couldn’t
shake the feeling that she had more poten al than a government job.
And then there was that dream of hers. Air hostess… According to
Precious, God told her to be an air hostess, but a frown creased his
brows as he carefully placed his shoes in the suitcase. He respected
her faith, admired it even, but an air hostess? He couldn’t help but feel
like she was aiming too low. She could do more. He hadn’t said
anything yet, but the thought nagged at him. He wanted her to be
challenged, to aspire for something bigger. Yet, every me she
men oned it, there was a fire in her eyes, as if she truly believed it was
her calling. She could be running her own business, working in a
corporate role, but he knew it wasn’t his place to tell her how to live
her life. Maybe I’m the one who needs to get my mind right. But even
so, it troubled him. His phone buzzed on the bed. Precious. A smile
tugged at his lips.
Is the house nice? she had texted.
Yeah, it’s nice. Do you have any specifica ons for how you want the
house you live in to be?" he typed back quickly, the smile widening as
he imagined her reac on.
A pause.
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What are you saying? she replied.
Gbenga chuckled, quickly following up with another message. Oh,

sorry. I forgot. We’re not rushing anything. Silly joke.
I’m on my way to work.
What are you wearing?" he typed, then immediately laughed at

himself for sounding ridiculous. "I liked how you looked in the dress at
the anniversary event.
She didn’t reply for a second, and he wondered if he had crossed the
line. He was trying to be careful, especially a er the whole sneaker
incident. He didn’t want to seem like he was trying to push things too
fast, at least not un l he saw her again.
Just switch to video, I’m not sending you a picture, her reply came
through.
Gbenga didn’t hesitate. He swiped to video call, and a few moments

later, there she was—her face filling the screen. He let out a so
breath. Why is this girl so beau ful? he thought to himself. She looked
so simple—no heavy makeup, just pink lips ck and a neat packing gel
hairstyle—yet she looked stunning. He refrained from commen ng on
her beauty, not wan ng to make her uncomfortable. She looked at
him through the screen, her eyes bright, her smile warm, and all
Gbenga could think about was what she would look like when she had
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everything she deserved.
"So... are you going to come visit me in Ethiopia again?" he asked with
a teasing grin, leaning back in his chair.
Precious laughed, shaking her head. "I have bad memories of that
place. To be honest. I don’t think I’ll be coming back any me soon.”
Gbenga felt a pang of disappointment but quickly masked it with

humour. "Should I come and see you in Nigeria, then?”
She looked surprised. "Me? Who am I? Why would you come and see
me?”
He smiled, leaning forward. "We’re friends, aren’t we? Good friends.

We’ve been talking every day for a month—morning and night.
Doesn’t that count for something?”
She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Let’s just s ll be. I don’t
know about this friendship thing, but okay.”
Gbenga laughed, but inside, his thoughts swirled. She’s careful,

cau ous. And I like that about her. But I also know she’s the one.
The promise he made to his mother that he would marry before his
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for eth birthday, wasn’t irrita ng anymore. And now, as he packed for
his flight to Lagos, that promise didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a
possibility. She spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"I really have to go to work now," she said with a laugh.
“Okay. Talk to you later tonight,” he replied with a smile as she got off.
Precious had been on his mind far more than he expected. He had
never chased a er anyone like this, and yet, something in him was
pushing him forward, making him want more. What if this is just a
crush?
Tonight’s flight would take him to Lagos where he would spend two
months; one month on leave and the other working remotely. It was
his for eth birthday celebra on, and his family was expec ng him.
But deep down, he was hoping for something more than just the
celebra on of his for eth. He paused, standing s ll in the middle of
the room as he felt his heart s r. He glanced at his packed bags, then
sat down on the edge of the bed. Bowing his head slightly, he closed
his eyes and whispered a prayer. "Lord, I don’t know why I feel the way
I feel, but I don’t think this is random. I want to pursue it deeper. Guide
me. If this is not something you want for me, make me desist from it.
But, Lord, I like this girl. I like her more than I’ve liked anyone in years. If
she’s the one you want for me, please make it clear. Show me your
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will.”
He sat s ll for a moment, le ng the silence fill the room. When he

opened his eyes, there was a renewed sense of peace in his heart.
Let’s see what happens next, Precious, he thought with a quiet smile,
grabbing his bags and heading out the door. This could be the start of
something real.
Precious shi ed uneasily in her chair, tapping her fingers

absentmindedly against the desk. The Ministry of Environment had its
perks; good hours and a decent salary, but it was far from s mula ng.
She had spent the morning running from one office to the next,
delivering files, responding to various requests, and generally being at
the beck and call of her supervisors. Now, she was in the middle of one
more errand: announcing the arrival of the commissioner. The
moment she heard he was coming, she had rushed down the hall to
inform everyone in the pool office and ensure the atmosphere was
orderly, a er all, the Ministry couldn't afford to look disorganised. But
as she finished the last of her tasks and sat down, she couldn't shake
the feeling that something was missing. Is this it? she thought, res ng
her chin in her palm. Is this how the rest of my life will be? She glanced
around the office. Her colleagues were cha ng and exchanging jokes
as they went about their rou nes. It felt so monotonous and
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uninspiring.
Just then, her new colleague, Bimpe, walked over. "Precious, are you
not going out to buy food?”
Precious shook her head. "No, I have some research to do.”
Bimpe shrugged. "Suit yourself, but don’t starve." With that, she
disappeared, leaving Precious alone with her thoughts.
Precious pulled out her phone, ready to dive into the research she had
been avoiding. For weeks now, she had been thinking about becoming
an air hostess for Ethiopian Airlines. It had been a flee ng dream at
first, but now it was something she couldn't stop thinking about. She
felt like it was something God was plan ng in her heart. She began
searching the requirements—height, check. Educa on, check. English
proficiency, check. Things were looking good un l she got to the part
about training fees. Her eyes widened.
"$5,700 for four months of training?" she whispered to herself in

disbelief. And that;s exclusive of flight costs, which would be at least
another $1,000. My goodness," she exclaimed, sinking into her chair.
"Where on earth am I supposed to find that kind of money?" She
sighed deeply. "Even if we sold the house..." she mused bi erly,
"there’s no way we could come up with that." Her heart sank as the
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realisa on hit her. This dream might be beyond her reach.
At that moment, one of her supervisors, Mr. Olumide, walked by and

caught the look on her face. "Precious, why are you looking like
someone just died?”
She tried to muster a smile but failed. "Honestly, sir, it feels like
someone did," she replied, her voice low. "A dream I had feels
impossible now.”
Mr. Olumide chuckled. "Come on now, Precious. When there's life,

there’s hope. Don’t give up so easily."
His words hit her like a jolt of energy, and as he walked away, she felt
something s r within her. He was right, she thought. When there’s life,
there’s hope. As if on autopilot, she stood and walked into the file
room, which was her usual place of solace. Once there, she closed the
door and sank to her knees.
“God," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "if this dream
really came from you, if you truly planted this in my heart, then help
me. Show me how to make it happen. I don’t have the resources, but I
know you do. Make a way where there seems to be none.”
A er she prayed, her mind buzzed with possible solu ons. Where
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could she get the money? Who could help? Suddenly, her thoughts
turned to Gbenga. He has more than enough resources, she thought,
bi ng her lip. But... no. I can’t ask him. That would be like I’m a gold
digger, using him for his money.
Her heart raced at the thought of him. She had been talking to Gbenga
for the past month, and although she had tried to keep things friendly,
she couldn’t deny that she liked him. He was brilliant, kind, and
incredibly handsome. It was hard to ignore. But why would he be
interested in me? A man like him, with his wealth and status... We’re
from two different worlds. She shook her head, trying to clear her
thoughts. No, I can’t ask him for help. I have to figure this out on my
own. S ll, the thought of Gbenga lingered. Unable to help herself, she
pulled out her phone and sent him a quick message:
How’s your day going?
She waited a few moments, expec ng his usual quick reply, but the
message didn’t even deliver.
"That’s strange," she mused, since he usually replied to her messages

quickly. She tried not to dwell on it, telling herself that he must be in a
mee ng.
Despite the unanswered message, a small smile curved her lips. She
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felt hopeful again. The prayer had li ed her spirits, and though she
didn’t know how things would work out, she believed God had
answered, she just needed to work her way to it. As she le the file
room and headed back to her desk, she felt a flicker of excitement.
One way or another, this was going to work out.”
Gbenga stepped off the plane, his feet finally touching Nigerian soil
a er a year of being away. There was something about the air, even
here in the business-class terminal of Murtala Muhammed
Interna onal Airport, that brought a strange mix of nostalgia and
energy to him. The usual chaos of Lagos lay just outside, but for now,
he enjoyed this moment of calm—this feeling of being back where it
all began.
He took in the sight of the airport, the luxury of flying business class
keeping him away from the crowds, but the sight of the city’s
relentless hustle was never far. He smiled briefly. As much as he tried
to stay composed, Lagos had a way of pulling at his emo ons. S ll
musing about the city of his birth, he stepped into the sleek terminal
lounge when Chuks, one of the airport staff Gbenga had known for
years, appeared.
"Oga Gbenga, welcome back, sir!" Chuks greeted him with a wide grin,
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quickly reaching for his bags before he could even ask.
"Thanks, Chuks." Gbenga’s voice held a warmth that reflected the

familiarity between them.
Chuks nodded, speaking again. "Your convoy is already outside, sir.

The driver and the team are ready.”
Gbenga smiled to himself. "Of course they are."
Even a er being away for so long, his family ensured that everything
was always set up perfectly for his return. He took out a hundred
dollar bill from his pocket and gave it to Chuks who almost licked the
ground in gra tude. Gbenga had since learnt that every li le thing
counts. Stepping through the exit, the heat of Lagos hit him full force
like a welcome slap to the senses. Two sleek black SUVs sat wai ng for
him, engines quietly humming as his driver, Tunde, stood by, ready to
take the reins.
"Welcome home, oga," Tunde greeted him with a knowing smile,

opening the back door of the lead SUV.
Gbenga took a deep breath before stepping inside, allowing the reality
of being home to sink in. The familiar comfort of the SUV’s leather
interior wrapped around him as Tunde shut the door gently behind
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him. As the SUV pulled away from the airport, he leaned back and
watched the familiar streets of Lagos flash by. The city was alive in the
way only Lagos could be—raw, chao c, and unapologe cally itself.
Traffic was as unpredictable as ever, people swarmed the sidewalks,
vendors peddled their goods on every corner, and there was this sense
of movement, like the city was always in mo on. He was home.
He smiled at the thought, and as he looked out through the window,

taking in his environment, he tried to keep his thoughts from dri ing
to Precious. For a brief moment, he considered pulling out his phone
to send her a message, but it was s ll dead. The ba ery drained during
the long flight because he had been working and didn’t realise he
needed to charge un l he was ready to disembark. He sighed, missing
the usual exchanges they had during the day. It had been ten hours
since they last spoke, and he felt that distance like a nagging itch.
As they crossed the Third Mainland Bridge, a moment of pride washed

over him. The repairs had clearly been well done - fresh asphalt, clean
lanes, and the whole bridge looked sharper and dier. Finally, he
thought, pleased to see something in Lagos improving, but the city,
with all its quirks and imperfec ons, s ll had his heart. It was, a er all,
home. Soon, the convoy slowed as they entered the tree-lined streets
of Ikoyi, approaching Bourdillon Road, where the Ayo-Douglas family
home sat, nestled in the quiet, upscale neighbourhood. As the gates
opened, revealing the familiar grandeur of the white mansion,
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Gbenga allowed himself a moment of nostalgia. This was where he

had grown up. No ma er how far he travelled, Lagos, and this house,
always had a pull on him.
His mother, ever punctual, stood at the door with her arms wide open.
Her bright smile and the excitement in her eyes made him chuckle
so ly. She had clearly missed him. "Gbenga, my son! Finally, you’ve
come home!" she exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug that felt like a
blanket of warmth and love.
"It’s good to be home, Mum," he replied, smiling as he breathed in the

familiar scent of her favourite jasmine perfume.
"Your father is s ll in Abuja," she began, ushering him inside the grand
living room, "but he’ll be here soon enough. He’s excited to see you.”
Gbenga nodded. "I’m only here for a week, though. I can’t stay for my
en re leave.”
His mother looked at him, a frown forming between her brows. "But
why? This is your home.”
"I’ve made arrangements to stay somewhere else," Gbenga

explained, careful not to sound too harsh. "I just need space to think,
Mum. It’s less distrac ng for me that way.”
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"So now we are distrac ons, eh?" she teased, but there was a hint of
seriousness in her tone. Before Gbenga could respond, his mother
launched into her favourite subject. "Anyway, there’s a girl from our
church. Your Aunt Mildred recommended her. She’s good, well-
mannered, from a great family…”
Gbenga groaned inwardly. "Mum, please, not this again.”
"But you told me I could find someone for you!”
"Yes, I did," he admi ed, "but I think I’ve found someone already.”
His mother’s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh? Where did you meet
her?”
"In Ethiopia. She’s Nigerian, but she was working there. She’s back in
Lagos now.”
His mother gave him a long look. "And when do I get to meet her?”
"Soon, Mum. But let’s not start comparing her to every girl you find in
church, okay? This is serious.”
His mother sighed drama cally. "You’re such a difficult boy, Gbenga.”
She paused for effect, then smiled again. "That’s why I’ve called your
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sister. Adewumi is coming too.”
"You got Adewumi to come all the way from the U.S. for this?" Gbenga
asked, slightly exasperated.
"Of course! Your for eth birthday is around the corner. You can’t
escape it.”
Gbenga ran a hand over his face, clearly red but amused. "Mum, I
really need to charge my phone.”
"Oh, come on! Eat something first. What’s the rush?”
"I’ve been away from my phone for ten hours, Mum, the Wi-Fi on the
plane was crap. I need to check a few things," he said as he headed for
the grand staircase.
"The phone can wait!" She called a er him but Gbenga wasn’t
listening, taking the stairs two at a me.
Once inside his room, he plugged in his phone, watching as it slowly

powered on. As soon as the screen lit up, the no fica on tone chimed,
and a so smile spread across his face. A message from Precious.
Hey! Hope your day’s going well. Just checking in.
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He exhaled, relieved and oddly excited. She was thinking of him. It

wasn’t one-sided, she was making an effort too. He leaned back on the
bed and couldn’t help but smile. Precious had a way of making
everything feel right. Even a er a long, exhaus ng day, just hearing
from her made him feel alive again.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Precious was lying on her bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone
as sleep slowly overtook her. The gentle hum of her sister’s snores
filled the room, and the calmness of the night seemed to wrap itself
around her. It had been a long day at work, the monotony of moving
files and managing errands, boring, yet stressful. Even though
exhaus on tugged at her eyelids, there was s ll one thing that kept
her awake.
Gbenga hadn’t responded.
She tried not to let it bother her, but it did. A er a month of talking
nearly every day, his silence today felt loud. Maybe he was busy and it
was probably one of those days, she told herself, but it was no use. She
closed her eyes, phone s ll clutched in her hand.
Ping.
Precious’ eyes snapped open. She sat up almost immediately, her

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heart quickening. She looked at her phone, and there it was - a

message from Gbenga.
Hey, how was your day? Mine was long.
She smiled, relief washing over her, and quickly typed back.
It was good. How about yours?
She’d just typed and sent when another message from him popped
up.
Can I call you?
Precious glanced over at Hannah, who was s ll fast asleep under the
covers. Hannah knew about Gbenga. She had teased her endlessly for
the past few weeks, always fishing for details about the "big MD" who
was always on her phone. If she caught wind that Gbenga was calling
her at 11:30 p.m, the teasing would never end. She ptoed out of the
room, careful not to wake her. She slipped into the living room,
thankful to find it empty, and made herself comfortable on the couch.
A part of her was nervous, but the flu er in her chest had her dialling
Gbenga’s number before she could think twice.
"Hey," Gbenga’s voice was warm and familiar, immediately easing
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some of her nerves.
"Hi," she replied, her tone so but full of unspoken excitement.
"How are you?" he asked. "I thought you would have fallen asleep
already.”
"I almost did," she laughed, res ng her head against the back of the
couch. "But I was wai ng for your message all day. I thought Mr.
Workaholic was buried in files again.”
“Nope," Gbenga chuckled. "I’ve been travelling.”
“Travelling?" she echoed, surprised. "Where did you go? UK? US?
China?”
Gbenga let out a small laugh. "Keep guessing.”
“Mexico?”
"Not quite.”
Precious wrinkled her nose, curiosity building. "Okay, I give up. Where
are you?”
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"Nigeria." Gbenga finally confessed.
Precious sat up, her heart skipping a beat. "What? You’re here? Since
when?”
"Just landed today," he replied, his voice casual as though it were the
most normal thing in the world.
Precious’s mind raced, incredulity lacing her voice. "So when we spoke
this morning, you were about to leave?”
“Huh-uh.”
“Wow! Okay..." she trailed off, trying to process it. "Why didn’t you say
anything?”
"I wanted to surprise you," he admi ed, his tone so ening.
There was a pause, an almost delicate silence between them before

Precious finally broke it. “So... Why are you here? What brings you
home?”
"My birthday is coming soon," he replied. "I’m turning forty.”
Precious blinked. “Forty?" she repeated, surprised. "I didn’t know!
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Happy early birthday!”
Gbenga chuckled. "You are the special guest of honour, you know.”
"Me? Why me?”
"Because you’re important to me." Gbenga’s voice was serious now,

but gentle, the words sinking into Precious slowly.
"You’re saying things again," she mu ered, unable to hide the smile
creeping into her voice.
"I’m being honest." There was no hesita on in his voice.
Precious shook her head, feeling the warmth of his words, but unsure
of how to respond. "I don’t know, Gbenga. It’s all too much. I don’t
know if I’d even fit in at a party like that.”
"You’ll fit in just fine," he reassured her. "Besides, I wasn’t joking.

You’re the guest of honour. How can you not fit in when you will be by
my side”
Precious let out a so laugh. "Gbenga, stop.”
But Gbenga’s voice held a calm insistence. "I’ve told you before, I don’t
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joke about how I feel.”
Her smile faded slightly, the weight of his words se ling over her
again. "But I mean... Forty?" she said, trying to lighten the mood.
"You’re old. I should be calling you Uncle!”
Gbenga groaned drama cally. "Please, don’t. I already feel ancient as

it is.”
She laughed, the sound light and teasing. "You are ancient. Some of
my uncles are your age.”
"Well, don’t start kneeling for me just yet," he shot back. "And don’t
forget, I like you.”
Her breath caught, but she tried to brush it off. "We’ve only known
each other for a month.”
"Time has nothing to do with it," he said so ly. "I’ve been praying
about this, Precious. I don’t joke with my feelings. You’re important to
me, and now that I’m back, I want to explore this further. Are you open
to that?”
Precious swallowed, her heart racing. "You’re asking me to think

about us... like that?”
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"I’m asking you to pray about it," Gbenga corrected. "Ask God for
clarity. I already have peace about this." He paused for a moment, his
voice gentle but unwavering. "Next me we meet, I’m going to ask you
to be my girlfriend.”
Precious couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips, though the
weight of his words le her speechless.
"Think about it, Precious," he added so ly. "Do you think you could
date a 40-year-old man like me?”
"Let’s talk tomorrow," she said, her voice quieter now.
"You can run, but you can’t hide," Gbenga teased, a note of affec on in
his tone.
"Good night, Gbenga," she whispered, before hanging up.
As Precious leaned back on the couch, her heart s ll racing, she felt a
strange mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling within her.
What was she ge ng herself into?
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A few minutes later, Precious ptoed back into the room, her heart
s ll racing from the conversa on she had with Gbenga. She moved
carefully, trying not to disturb her sister who was deep in slumber.
With a quiet sigh, she slipped under the covers, gently placing her
phone beside the bedrest. Her eyes closed, the weight of exhaus on
pulling her into sleep almost immediately, but before she could dri
off completely, she felt a sudden shi . Her sister s rred, reaching out
and grabbing her phone with a mischievous grin.
“Ah-ah! What are you doing?” Precious sat up instantly, snatching the
phone back. “Why are you trying to go through my phone?”
Her sister shrugged, her grin widening. “I know you’re hiding

something. I just wanted to confirm what it is. Or do you think I didn’t
no ce you sneaking out for that call?”
Rolling her eyes, Precious tucked the phone close to her chest. “If you
want to know something, just ask me. Or is it that you’re trying to
check my account balance so you can plan how much you’ll bill me this
me?”
Her sister gasped in mock offence. “So, I’m only useful when I want
money, abi? I’m just curious, that’s all. You’ve been ac ng suspiciously
with your midnight calls and constant tex ng. I want to make sure
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you’re not ge ng involved in anything funny.”
Precious hesitated then sighed. “It’s that man I told you about... the
one from Ethiopia.”
Her sister’s eyes widened drama cally. “What?! So it’s true! You’re
talking to him? Are you da ng him or what?”
“We’re friends,” Precious replied, her voice so . “I don’t even know

what to call it. It’s... different. But he’s in Nigeria now.”
“Oh, wow!” her sister exclaimed. “So when’s he taking us out?”
Precious blinked. “Taking us out? No way. That’s not happening.”
“Why not?” her sister pouted playfully. “Come on, we’ll be a trio. Let
him take us out nau.”
Precious shook her head. “He’s back for his for eth birthday. He says
he likes me, and I think I like him too but...”
“But what?” Hannah bu ed in.
“He’s forty!”
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“And so?” her sister brushed it off. “That’s not an issue.”
“It is,” Precious replied. “We’re from different genera ons.”
Hannah snorted. “Please. You’re going to be thirty in two months.

That’s just ten years between you. You’re ac ng like it’s a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Precious insisted. “We’re just too different. He’s so
accomplished, and I’m s ll figuring things out.”
“So?” Hannah scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s life. And what about
your last rela onship? The guy wasn’t serious. But this one? He’s
serious, he’s busy, and he’s s ll making me for you. He’s calling you at
midnight and cha ng with you every day. Isn’t that what you want?”
Precious shook her head, feeling a li le overwhelmed. “It’s not like

that. He knew I’d be worried when he travelled, that’s why he called.”
“And that’s exactly my point!” her sister replied triumphantly. “He

cares about you. You two are more serious than you think.”
Precious groaned and flopped back onto her pillow, pulling the covers
over her head. “Can we drop this? I just want to sleep,” she said and lay
back in bed, but the conversa on with Gbenga swirled in her mind. His
voice, his words, the way he seemed to care about her, it all felt so
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different, so new. Unse ling, yet comfor ng. She sighed, then
whispered so ly, “Lord, if this is something real, please guide me. I
don’t want to make a mistake. I need Your direc on. If this is what I
think it is, show me the way.”
As the quiet prayer le her lips, she dri ed off into sleep, her heart
both anxious and hopeful for what the future held.
Precious jolted awake, her heart pounding. Her eyes darted to her
phone—7:45 a.m. Her breath caught in her throat.
“No... Oh God, no! Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
She shot up from the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. The
cold water washed over her skin, jol ng her fully awake as she
scrubbed quickly, thoughts racing. She just got this job and couldn’t
afford to mess it up. Moments later, she burst into her bedroom,
yanking her clothes off the hangers in a frenzy, pu ng on her skirt and
blouse. As she hurried to fix her hair, the faint sound of her mother
calling her from the kitchen dri ed in.
"Precious, you be er take something to eat. You know food is

expensive over there.”
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Precious wasn’t listening. She was already rushing through the house,
her bag barely zipped. "Mummy, I’m late!" she shouted. "There’s no
me!"
As she swung the door open and stepped onto the street, something
caught her eye. Parked across the road was a massive black Toyota
Prado. It gleamed in the morning sun, looking almost out of place in
their neighbourhood. She stared at it for a brief moment, distracted by
its presence.
Who could be driving that here?
Maybe a poli cian,, she thought, but there was no me to dwell on it.
She needed to catch a keke (tricycle) quickly or risk being even later.
Just as she turned to flag one down, the SUV pulled up in front of her.
The window rolled down, and her breath hitched.
Gbenga.
Her stomach flipped. Oh my God. He was here. He came.
"Gbenga?" she whispered, barely able to contain her surprise. How

had he found her? Was he serious when he’d asked for her address
during one of their conversa ons? She thought he was only joking
when he’d men oned sending something from Ethiopia last week. He
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must have known he was coming then and wanted to surprise her
with a visit.
His familiar, warm smile greeted her. "I couldn’t wait," he said
smoothly. "I’ve been wai ng here for thirty minutes. I thought I was
late when I didn't see you outside.”
Precious’s heart thudded in her chest. "You came to wait here for
me?”
"Yeah. I barely slept. I needed to see you," he said as the driver, a man
in a sharp suit, stepped out of the car and stood off to the side, clearly
prepared to open the door for her.
Precious could feel her cheeks flush as Gbenga stepped down as well.
She bit her lip nervously, her heart flu ering. How does he do this?
Every word and every gesture made her feel so small in his presence,
yet so seen.
Gbenga paused before her, eyes so . "Can I give you a hug?" he asked,
his voice low and gentle.
Precious’s breath caught. She was a bundle of nerves, but she

managed to respond, her voice, a whisper, “Yes.”
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As he wrapped his arms around her, she felt warmth seep into every
part of her being. The hug wasn’t hurried, neither was it casual. It was
careful and inten onal, as though he wanted to convey something
deeper. She felt her heart race against his chest, the heat of his body
making her feel dizzy and secure all at once. She inhaled his
scent—something musky, fresh, and completely intoxica ng. He
pulled back slowly, his hands lingering on her shoulders. Her pulse
pounded in her ears, and she could hardly meet his eyes.
"You look even more beau ful in person," he said so ly, his gaze on
her.
Precious stammered, flustered by the way he was looking at her.

"I—uh—I’m late for work. I really need to go.”
Gbenga chuckled, stepping aside as the driver opened the car door for
her. "I’m taking you to work. Get in.”
She blinked, trying to process what was happening. "You don’t have
to.”
"I’ve been here for thirty minutes already," he teased. "I am taking you
to work.”
Precious glanced around, no cing some of the neighbours peeking
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out from behind their windows. Her heart raced again, but this me
for a different reason. The thought of her neighbours gossiping about
her stepping into this fancy SUV with Gbenga was mor fying.
"You should have told me," she whispered shyly, lowering her gaze. "I
would have met you at the junc on.”
Gbenga smiled, leaning casually against the car. "What difference

does it make? Let them see us. They’ll have to get used to it anyway.
Unless you want to move out of here?”
Precious laughed nervously. "Move out? We’re ge ng ahead of

ourselves, aren’t we?”
Gbenga shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "You think I’m
joking? I’m serious, Precious. I’m not going anywhere. You should get
used to it.”
Her heart raced again, this me not from panic, but something
else—something she wasn’t quite ready to admit. As she climbed into
the vehicle, she caught sight of her neighbours openly gawking, and
she sank into the seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and something
resembling excitement.
"You know, you really didn’t have to do this," she said quietly once
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Gbenga was back in the car, the driver already in his seat.
"I know," he replied, glancing at her with a smile. "But I wanted to.”
As they drove off, Precious stole glances at him, her thoughts swirling.
How did I get here?
And yet, she couldn’t help but feel that perhaps, just maybe, she was
exactly where she was meant to be.
As the SUV cruised through the early Lagos traffic, Gbenga leaned
back, glancing out the window at the familiar but ever-changing
landscape. The city's rhythm was s ll the same—constant movement,
the pulse of life undeniable. His thoughts, though, weren't en rely on
the scenery or the noise of the city. They were on Precious, si ng
beside him, nervously looking at her phone.
As soon as they got to her office, the driver, who had been with his
family for years, sensed Gbenga’s need for privacy and quietly stepped
out, parking just outside the Ministry of Environment. Gbenga was
grateful for the gesture. He glanced over at Precious, who was s ll
adjus ng her seatbelt, clearly trying to delay the inevitable moment
when she’d have to leave the safety of the car.
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“Precious,” he began, his voice so er than usual. She looked up, her
big brown eyes catching his, a flicker of curiosity there. He hesitated
for a moment, his heart racing in a way that felt foreign to him given his
usual cool demeanour. “I think I may have go en ahead of myself.
There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, but now I realise...
maybe it’s not the right me.”
She raised an eyebrow, curious, but not pushing him to con nue.
“What is it?” she asked, almost cau ously.
He gave a short laugh, more to himself than to her. “I’ll save it for later,”
he said, shaking his head. “How about I pick you up a er work
instead? What me do you finish?”
“Four,” she replied, her tone s ll a li le tenta ve, unsure of where this
was going.
“Perfect,” he said, giving her a small smile even though his heart was
s ll thumping with the weight of what he wanted to say. “I’ll be back at
four. I don’t have much going on today—just working on a side
project—so I’ll stay around Ikeja. No point driving all the way back to
Ikoyi just to come back here again.”
Precious nodded but didn’t say anything. He could tell she was
processing his words carefully, as if there were layers she hadn’t yet
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fully grasped. She started to gather her things, preparing to leave, but
before she could step out, her phone rang, and she fumbled with it for
a moment before answering. Gbenga could hear the voice on the
other end—a concerned, motherly tone that he recognized
immediately.
“Yes, Mummy, I’m fine. I didn’t have me to pack food,” Precious

explained, her voice carrying that mix of exaspera on and love that
only came with conversa ons between mothers and daughters. “Yes,
I’ll find something to eat... No, Mummy, don’t worry.” When she hung
up, she glanced at him with a slightly embarrassed smile. “My mum
worries about me skipping meals,” she said, trying to downplay it.
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “She is

worried you didn’t pack food?”
“Yes,” she admi ed. “She always wants me to bring food from home
because things are so expensive, you know, but I was in such a rush
this morning. ”
He chuckled. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll take care of your lunch today.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh no, please. You don’t have to do that. I
can’t let you—”
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“Precious,” he said gently, his tone firm but reassuring. “Get used to it.
I’ll do things for you because I want to.”
She blushed, looking away, clearly unsure of how to respond. There

was a moment of silence, and Gbenga reached for her hand, holding it
lightly in his. The warmth between them felt electric. He thought back
to the hug they had shared earlier, the way her body had melted
against his for just a moment, and how much he had wanted to hold
her longer. He glanced down at her hand in his, not wan ng to let go
but knowing he had to.
“Thank you for le ng me bring you to work,” he said quietly. “It’s

selfish, but I wanted to see you this morning.”
She smiled, looking down at their hands. “You definitely saved me

from being late. If I’d taken the bus, I’d probably be at least thirty
minutes late.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” he said, finally releasing her hand, despite
not being ready to let her go yet. He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you at
four.”
As she reached for the door handle, she hesitated. “Um... When you
come back later, could you maybe park at the gate? I’ll meet you there.
I don’t want my colleagues to... you know, start asking ques ons.”
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He laughed so ly. “That’s the idea,” he teased, his eyes glin ng with
amusement. “I want them to wonder.”
She blinked, confused. “Why?”
“Because when I pick you up later, things could change for us, I’m
going to ask you something important,” he said, his voice lowering just
a li le. “I’m going to ask you to be my girlfriend.” Her mouth fell open
in shock, and Gbenga couldn’t help but smile at her reac on. “I know it
feels fast,” he con nued, “but for me, it’s not. I’ve been praying about
this, Precious. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we met. I think God
put you in my path for a reason.”
She looked down, her cheeks flushed. “But... we just met.”
“I know,” he said, nodding. “And I’m not asking for an answer right
now. Just think about it, okay? We’ll talk more later.”
Precious nodded slowly, clearly overwhelmed by everything. “Okay,”

she whispered.
“Good,” Gbenga said, smiling so ly. “I’ll see you at four.”
As she stepped out of the car, he watched her walk into the office
building, his heart s ll racing. There was something so genuine about
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her—something that made him feel both at ease and on edge at the
same me. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it
scared him, but in the best way possible. As the driver returned to the
car and they pulled away, Gbenga leaned back in his seat, closing his
eyes for a moment. A quiet prayer slipped from his lips.
“Lord, I don’t know why I feel the way I do, but I trust that You’ve
guided me here. If this is Your plan, help me see it through. And if it’s
not, give me the strength to let it go. But, Lord, I really like her. Please,
let this be Your will.”
He glanced at the dashboard clock and noted that he s ll had some

me before he checked into the hotel for the day. Without thinking
too much, he reached for his phone and downloaded a food delivery
app. He wanted to order lunch for Precious—something special,
something though ul—but as he scrolled through the op ons, he
realised he had no idea what she liked.
“Well, be er safe than sorry,” he mu ered to himself.
He tapped on a high-end restaurant that he frequently ordered from

in Ethiopia, assuming it would be a safe bet in Lagos too. He scrolled
through the menu, ordering everything from seafood pla ers to
steak, pasta, and even a variety of local Nigerian dishes—just in case
she had a preference for something homegrown. His eyes caught on a
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few desserts as well, so he added a couple of pastries and a chocolate

mousse for good measure. When the final bill flashed on the screen,
Gbenga didn’t flinch—he wasn’t even sure how much food he had
ordered at this point, but he wanted her to have op ons. He smiled,
imagining her reac on when the food arrived. Maybe it was over the
top, but for some reason, he didn’t mind at all. This was how he
showed care—a en on to detail, big or small.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Gbenga s rred from his nap, blinking at the so light creeping through
the curtains of his hotel room. He glanced at the clock on his
phone—2:30 p.m. A wave of surprise hit him as he realised he'd been
asleep for four hours, which was much longer than he planned. His
body must have been more exhausted than he thought a er barely
sleeping the night before. The work he had intended to get done lay
untouched on the desk—the laptop open, with documents sca ered,
wai ng for his a en on. For a moment, he debated whether to
squeeze in some me for work before heading out. He checked
Google Map, calcula ng that he could make it to Precious's office by 4
p.m. without rushing. S ll, a part of him felt he should take advantage
of the me and at least get something done before he le . Just as he
se led in to catch up on some tasks, his phone buzzed with a group call
request. Gbenga groaned, knowing immediately who it was. His
mother, aunt, and sister. It wasn’t the first me they'd ambushed him
with a family conference call. He stared at the screen, deba ng
whether to ignore it. The phone buzzed again, and this me a text
came in from Adewumi:
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Pick up, please. Mummy’s about to lose her mind!
Reluctantly, Gbenga accepted the video call, preparing himself for

whatever awaited. “Hello Ladies”
"Gbenga! You won't even greet us properly?" his mother’s voice rang
out, her image filling the screen.
Feigning innocence, Gbenga smiled. "Good a ernoon, Mummy. Good

a ernoon, Aun e. Wumi."
His mum didn’t waste me with pleasantries. "Your birthday is just

around the corner, and we need to start planning. It will be big, and we
don't have much me!”
Gbenga sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mum, I thought we

weren’t doing anything special? Can’t we just cancel the whole
thing?”
“Nonsense!" His mother dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand.
"I know just the right event planner. It'll be perfect.”
A mischievous smile crept onto Gbenga’s face. He knew exactly how to

steer the conversa on. "Actually, Mum, I have a sugges on for you.
You should hire Lush Events and Experiences for the planning.”
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Gateway To Heaven
His mum raised a curious eyebrow. "Lush Events? Are they any good?"
Before Gbenga could answer, his aunt jumped in. "Oh, yes! They do
high-end corporate events, weddings, all sorts. I’ve seen their work.”
His mum nodded. "If they’re good, that’s fine with me. But Gbenga,
when did you start paying a en on to event planners?”
Adewumi laughed in the background. "Eh-heh! Is this what I think it is,

big brother?”
Gbenga rolled his eyes but kept his voice steady. "Quiet, Wumi. Mum, I
trust Lush Events will do a great job. Plus, I may bring someone to the
party. A girl.”
A sudden pause filled the airwaves before his mother’s excited voice
broke through. "Wait, so there is someone? You mean you're bringing
a girl to the party?”
"I might." Gbenga smiled, feeling sa sfied for surprising her.
"But what about the girl I already invited?" his mum pressed. "You
know… the one I was hoping to introduce to you?”
Gbenga smirked, “How have you already started invi ng people?”
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His mother waved off his ques on. "Well, I thought—”
"Relax, Mum, no problem," Gbenga interrupted gently. "Just make

sure Lush Events follows my instruc ons for the party. I have a few
details I’m par cular about, especially when it comes to the guest
treatment.”
His mother clapped her hands in excitement. "This is serious! You

really are bringing someone.”
Adewumi's voice cut in with a laugh. "Looks like Gbenga is finally

serious about someone.”
"Mum, Aun e, Wumi," Gbenga said, "I have a mee ng to prepare for.
Let’s wrap this up. As long as Lush Events is on board and things are
handled well, everything else will go according to plan. Deal?”
His mother sighed but agreed. "Alright, Gbenga. But you be er show
up with this girl. Don’t stress me.”
"Of course, Mum," he replied, hiding a smile.
As he hung up the call, he leaned back in his chair, feeling good about
the call. His family could be overwhelming, but he was glad to set
things in mo on for Precious, even if it was just a small step. Now, he
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had to pick her up from work.
Aun e Mildred paced the length of her living room, her hands
clenched into fists as anxiety swept through her. She was s ll reeling
from the phone call with her sister. How could this be happening? she
thought, her mind spinning in a thousand direc ons. Gbenga in love?
That wasn’t supposed to happen—that had never been part of the
plan.
Her husband looked up from his reading, no cing the tension in her.
“Mildred, what’s going on?”
Aunty Mildred stopped pacing long enough to look at him,

exasperated. “Gbenga. That’s what’s going on! He’s gone and fallen in
love with some girl out of nowhere. That was not part of the plan. No,
no, no!”
The man leaned forward, frowning. “What are you talking about?
What do you mean, he’s fallen in love? What about our girl? The one
you handpicked? You’ve been grooming her to secure that spot in the
family!”
Mildred collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands for a
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moment before looking up, her eyes filled with frustra on. “Exactly!
Our girl was supposed to be the one. I already introduced her to my
sister, and she approved. Gbenga wasn’t supposed to care who he
married—he’s spent the last ten years ignoring every woman we’ve
introduced to him! He even told us to just find him someone, anyone.
Everything was set. But now…” She trailed off, “This girl has come out
of nowhere, and Gbenga is keeping things mysterious.”
Her husband’s eyes narrowed. “And what about the deal? The one the
girl was supposed to help us seal? She’s supposed to convince Gbenga
to get his father to get me on the board.”
Mildred sighed, shaking her head. “That’s what I’m worried about.
Barring Gbenga, no one else can get through to his father. This posi on
could change our lives, and we need someone close to the family to
make it happen. Our girl was supposed to do that, not this... nobody.”
The man clenched his jaw, his expression hardening. “We can’t afford
to mess this up. If Gbenga marries some random girl, we lose our only
chance. We need that posi on.”
Mildred stood up, her resolve strengthening as she glanced at her

husband. “You’re right. We can’t let this happen. I’ll figure out who
this girl is, and I’ll ruin whatever they have before it goes any further.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Her husband’s voice was grave as he spoke. “You have to, Mildred.
Everything’s riding on this. Our future, our finances... all of it.”
“I know. I’ll make it work. When I called the event planner, Omolara,
She men oned something about the girl. Apparently, Gbenga hired
her for his birthday party. I’ll chat some more with her and see if I can
get more informa on about this girl. If Omolara used to work with her,
she might know something I can use.”
Tunde gave her a firm nod. “Make sure you do. This can’t slip through
our fingers, Mildred. The posi on depends on Gbenga.”
Mildred’s lips ghtened, her mind already racing with plans. “Trust
me, I’ll get this sorted. I’m not going to sit back and let some nobody
ruin everything we’ve built.”
He stood up, coming over to place a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve

never failed me before. I trust you’ll handle this.”
Mildred smiled thinly, nodding. “I’ve got this,” she mu ered to her
husband and watched him walk away.
The first thing she needed to do was talk to Omolara and find out more
about this girl. Thankfully, she had worked with her before, so ge ng
what she needed wasn’t going to be a problem. She had to make sure
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this thing between Gbenga and this nobody falls apart before he can
even think about proposing. She picked up her phone and dialled
Omolara’s number, her heart pounding as she prepared to take ac on.
If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was protect her family’s
interests—no ma er what it took.
Precious felt a nervous flu er in her chest as she stepped out of the

car. Gbenga’s driver had brought her to the restaurant where Gbenga
was already inside, wai ng. She had never been to a place like this
before. Just looking at the building, you could tell it was luxurious and
elegantly understated. She wasn’t surprised when she walked in, her
eyes wandering over the rich decor, the so , ambient ligh ng, and the
polished marble floors. Even though she’d expected it, it s ll felt
surreal. She was used to smaller, more casual eateries, not a place like
this where the waiters moved like ghosts and everything seemed so
finely curated.
Her eyes se led on Gbenga. He sat at a table near the back, his
posture relaxed as he worked on his iPad, occasionally glancing at his
laptop. He looked completely at ease in this world, as if he owned the
place. The thought made her smile. Of course, he looked like he
belonged there—he probably frequented places like this all the me.
It was just another day for him. For her, it felt like stepping into a
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dream.
She stood there, awkward for a moment, un l he no ced her. The

minute their eyes met, Gbenga’s face lit up, and he shut down both
devices. He rolled back his chair and rose to meet her. Precious felt her
heart race as he approached. Before addressing her, he handed his
laptop and iPad to his driver, who discreetly stepped away, and then,
without hesita on, he gave her a hug—a light, friendly hug that ended
with a so brush of his cheek against hers. It was a simple gesture, but
it made Precious’s cheeks flush hot. No one had ever greeted her that
way before. It felt in mate and special, as if she was the only person in
the room. Her heart pounded as she shyly stepped back, blushing.
"Come on, let’s sit," he said, pulling out the seat opposite him for her.
Precious lowered herself into the chair, s ll a bit flustered. She took a
deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts, but everything about this
felt like an out-of-body experience. She couldn’t shake the feeling that
she was way out of her depth.
"This whole thing...." she began, her voice barely above a whisper,
"…feels like I’m having an out-of-body experience.”
Gbenga chuckled so ly. "How so?”
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"I’ve never been in a place like this," she confessed, looking around
the room. "It’s like…like that restaurant you took me to in Ethiopia.
Everything is so... I don’t know, bespoke. Do you ever do anything
haphazardly?”
Gbenga smiled and shrugged. "What can I say? Do you know who I
am?”
Precious rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, Gbenga Ayo-Douglas. MD of

Pinnacle Bank, Ethiopia.”
Gbenga leaned back, folding his arms with a teasing grin. "Is that all
you know about me? What do you know about my family?”
Precious blinked, confused. "Your family?”
"Yes. What do you know about the Ayo-Douglas family?" he asked,

watching her reac on closely.
"I don’t know much," she admi ed. "The only Ayo-Douglas family I’ve
ever heard of is—" she paused, her eyes widening. "Wait. The second
richest man in Africa? Chief Ayo-Douglas?”
Gbenga laughed at her expression. "So you’ve heard of him?”
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Yes, but—" she stopped, staring at him in shock. "Wait, you’re related
to him? Don’t tell me you’re his nephew or something.”
Gbenga nodded casually. "First son, actually.”
Precious’s jaw dropped. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" She covered her

mouth with her hands, feeling completely out of her element. "You’re
the heir to the Ayo-Douglas empire?”
Gbenga gave a small smile. "It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it.”
"Not a big deal?" Precious repeated, incredulous. "You’re the MD of a

major bank, and you’re also part of one of the richest families in Africa.
That’s a huge deal!”
Gbenga reached across the table, taking her hand gently. "It’s just me,
Precious. I’m s ll the same person.”
Precious shook her head, s ll trying to process everything. "No, this

is... this is too much. A guy like you doesn’t date someone like me.
We’re from completely different worlds. How could your family even
allow this?"
Gbenga’s expression so ened. "I’m not interested in what my family

thinks. I’m interested in you." He paused, searching her eyes. "Can we
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order some food? Maybe it’ll help you calm down.”
Precious sighed, pulling her hand back slightly. "I’m not hungry.
Besides," she said with a small smile, "you already fed me today. The
food you sent to my office was enough to feed my en re department.
Everyone was wondering what I’d go en myself into.”
Gbenga grinned. "Did you not like it? Didn’t it feel good to feed
everyone?”
"It felt good, yes," she admi ed, "but I can’t keep up with this. It’s like
pretending to be someone I’m not.”
"It’s not pretence," Gbenga said so ly. "If you’re with me, this is what I
want for you.”
She looked down at her hands, fidge ng. "Gbenga, do you really like
me?”
"I like you," he said, his voice steady. "You’re a good person. You’re
kind, smart, and beau ful. What’s not to like?”
Precious smiled faintly, feeling warmth spread through her chest.

"And you really want me to be your girlfriend?”
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"I do," he said, leaning forward slightly. "I want you in my life, Precious.
For real.”
A few moments later
As the waiter cleared the plates from their table, Gbenga ordered a
cocktail for himself, and a mocktail for Precious. He knew she didn’t
drink alcohol, and even something as simple as this made him smile.
He liked being though ul, and liked remembering every li le detail
about her. When the waiter le , he turned his gaze to her, watching
the way she nervously picked at her fingers. There was something so
unassuming and genuine about her that drew him in.
“Okay," he said, breaking the silence. "I was quiet because I wanted us
to just eat. You've made me shy, and I needed a moment to gather my
thoughts.”
Precious looked up, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You? Shy?”
He chuckled so ly, shaking his head. "Yeah, me. It’s funny, right? But
the way you talk about me like I’m something special, it makes me self-
conscious. I’m just me, Precious. There’s nothing extraordinary about
being rich. The only difference is money. Money comes when you
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work hard, when you’re strategic, and when you build something that
people need. That’s all it is. But the most important thing in life is
finding a connec on that’s real. That’s why I’m not married at forty.”
He could see her surprise, but he wasn’t finished. He leaned forward,

clasping his hands together on the table. "I’ve seen the marriages
around me—my parents, my friends, my colleagues—they’re either
transac onal or just loveless. My mother doesn’t love my father; she
loves being his wife. My dad has girlfriends, and my brother doesn’t
commit to anyone. I didn’t want that for myself. I want more or
nothing. Why be in a rela onship that would drag me down?”
Precious listened intently, her so gaze encouraging him to con nue.
"That’s why I stayed away from rela onships. Un l I saw you. When I
met you, I knew something had shi ed. People say there’s no such
thing as love at first sight, but I felt pulled to you, Precious. There’s
something about you that’s different." He paused, watching her face.
"You don’t care about the Ayo-Douglas name or my money. You’re just
yourself, and you let me be myself.”
He let that sink in for a moment, watching as she processed everything

he was saying.
"I know this might seem fast, but I’ve had two months to think about
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this. We’ve been talking, ge ng to know each other, and now that I’m
here, I don’t want to waste any me. I’m not here to date casually, I
want to court you with the inten on of marrying you."
Precious blinked, her eyes widening slightly.
"I don’t need a girlfriend just for the tle, I want a partner, a wife. Be
my girlfriend for a week, then be my fiancée a week later. Let's skip to
the good part and plan our future together. You’re almost thirty, I’m
almost forty, there’s no me to waste. Let’s begin our lives together.”
Gbenga reached across the table, taking her hand gently. She didn’t
pull away, and that made him hopeful. He gazed into her eyes, wai ng.
Precious looked back at him, her expression, a combina on of awe

and uncertainty. "If you truly like me, and you’re serious about this...
I’ll be your girlfriend.”
Gbenga felt a surge of joy and relief. Without thinking, he stood up,
pulling her gently from her chair and into his arms. The hug was so at
first, then he pulled her closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. He
couldn’t help himself—he pressed a so kiss to her cheek. It was
gentle, tenta ve, but meaningful.
Precious blushed, pulling back slightly. "Gbenga, people are
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watching.”
"There’s no one here,” he smiled, looking around. “I bought the space

for the evening. It’s just you and me.”
Her eyes widened. "You did what?”
He grinned, pulling her close again. "I told you, I don’t do things
haphazardly.”
She shook her head, laughing so ly. "You’re something else.”
"And you’re mine now," he whispered, brushing his lips lightly against
her forehead, but pulling back before it went too far. What he really
wanted was a kiss. It had been years since he’d kissed anyone. His last
rela onship was before he gave his life to Christ, and he didn’t trust
himself to stop if he tried now. His affec on for her ran deep, so he
took a step back.
"Precious, I’m falling for you. Fast. Do you think you can catch up?”
She looked into his eyes, her breath so against his cheek. "I think I
can.”
And with that, Gbenga knew things were about to change in the best
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possible way.
147
CHAPTER NINE
Precious’s parents sat by the window, watching intently as the SUV

pulled up outside. "Isn’t that the same car from this morning?" her
mother whispered,
Her father leaned closer to get a be er look, frowning deeply. "It is,"
he said, his tone cau ous.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. "That’s why she didn’t
carry food. She was in such a rush to meet this man. Who is he?”
They both watched silently as Precious stepped out of the car, greeted
by a tall, sharply dressed man. He gave her a hug and a light peck on
the cheek. Her father’s frown deepened. "What is going on here?" he
mu ered.
Precious opened the front door, smiling as she greeted them, "Good
evening, Daddy. Mummy." She tried to move past them, but her
father’s voice stopped her cold.
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"Not so fast, Precious. Come back here," he said firmly.
She winced inwardly, knowing what was coming as she turned back to
face them. Her father’s gaze was sharp, his arms crossed.
"When did big men start picking you up and dropping you off like this?
Like a..." He paused, trying to find the right word. "Like a... woman of
the night?”
Her mother gasped in horror. "Ah! Which one is ‘woman of the night’?
No, no, no, don’t say that!" She scolded her husband.
I knew this would happen, Precious thought, her stomach twis ng in

knots. "Daddy, please," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Can
we not do this today?”
Her father sighed, his tone so ening. "Okay, I’m sorry. That was harsh.
But we need to understand what’s going on, Precious. You’ve always
been careful. We raised you in a Chris an home. You don’t do things
like this.”
Her mother nodded in agreement. "Yes, my dear. You’ve always made

us proud, but we don’t know this man. Who is he?”
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Precious shi ed uncomfortably on her feet, unsure how to explain.

They’ll never understand if I just blurt it all out. She took a deep breath
and said, "It’s all s ll new, that’s why I haven’t told you yet." She
paused before adding so ly, "He’s actually my boyfriend.”
Her younger sister, who had clearly been listening from behind the
door, burst into the room. “Boyfriend?!" she exclaimed. "I thought you
said you two were just friends!”
Precious rolled her eyes. Of course she was listening. She nodded
slowly. "We were. But things changed.”
Her mother’s eyes widened in excitement. "Who is he?" she asked

eagerly.
Precious hesitated. Should I tell them everything? Will they even get
it? "He’s the MD of Pinnacle Bank in Ethiopia," she began, watching
their reac ons. "We met when I went to Ethiopia two months ago for
the bank’s anniversary event.”
Her father raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "And he no ced you?”
Before she could answer, her mother jumped to her feet, clapping her
hands. "Ah! I knew it! My daughter is des ned for greatness!" She
began dancing around the room, mu ering prayers of thanksgiving.
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"This is God’s doing!”
Precious chuckled so ly. "Mummy, it’s not that serious yet," she said,
but her mother was too caught up in her celebra on to listen.
Her father, always the more cau ous one, finally spoke up again.
"Precious, are you sure this man isn’t just using you? You’re a beau ful
girl. It wouldn’t be hard for someone like him to be interested.”
Precious felt a wave of warmth for her father’s concern. "I’ve prayed
about it, Daddy. And I feel peace," she said confidently.
Her father sighed, nodding slowly. "Alright. If you feel peace, then you
have my blessing. When will we meet him?”
Precious smiled. "Just give me some me. I’ll introduce you when it
feels right." She turned to leave while her mother resumed her
dancing, full of excitement.
Her younger sister followed her to the room, her face lit with curiosity.
"You have to tell me everything! I want all the details!" she demanded.
Precious laughed. Hannah was always so nosy. "I will, I will," she
promised, "but not now. I need to pray.”
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Her sister’s eyebrow shot up. "Pray? Now?”
"Yes, I need to talk to God," Precious replied. Her sister must have seen
the seriousness on her face because she backed off.
"Alright, I’ll leave you to it," she said and stepped out of the room,
closing the door behind her.
Alone, Precious finally let out the breath she had been holding. This is
all happening so fast. She slipped out of her clothes, her heart heavy.
Si ng on the edge of her bed, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
How did I get here? she wondered. Lord, what are you doing with me?
She knelt by her bed, tears streaming down her face.
"Sweet Holy Spirit," she whispered, her voice trembling, "thank you.
Thank you for placing me where I never thought I’d be. You’ve li ed
me, just like you li ed Esther. You’ve placed me in the palace." Her
voice grew stronger as she con nued to pray. "But Lord, I need you
now more than ever. Guide me. Help me not to make mistakes. Teach
me how to navigate this new chapter. I don’t want to embarrass
myself, and I don’t want to stray from your will." She paused, her tears
ebbing. A deep sense of gra tude filled her heart. "Thank you for
Gbenga. He’s so different from anyone I’ve ever known. Please, Lord,
help me handle this well. Help me honour you in this rela onship.”
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As she prayed, a sense of peace washed over her. God was with her,
guiding her through every step.
I’m not in this alone, she realised.
Gbenga walked into the house, feeling lighter than he had in years.
There was a spring in his step, and he couldn’t help but whistle a tune,
something he hadn’t done since he was a young boy. Precious had a
way of bringing this joy out of him, a feeling he had almost forgo en.
Before mee ng her, he had been consumed by work, focused on
climbing to the top, but a er reaching the pinnacle and becoming the
MD of Pinnacle Bank in Ethiopia, he’d felt the emp ness creep in.
What was next? Now, it was as if she had reminded him that life was
about so much more. Lost in thought, he didn’t no ce his parents in
the living room as he strolled in. He was s ll whistling when his father’s
voice brought him back to reality.
"My son is happy, I can tell," his father’s voice boomed with warmth.
"The last me I heard you do that, you were a boy.”
Gbenga, caught off guard but smiling widely, immediately bent down,

prostra ng flat to greet his father in the tradi onal Yoruba way.
"Daddy, welcome," he said as he stood, his heart full.
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His father chuckled, clearly pleased. "Ah, Gbenga! S ll my boy. I was

going to stay in Abuja for another week, but your mother called and
said the eagle has landed. I needed to see you myself. I've missed you,
my dear son.”
"I’ve missed you too, Daddy," Gbenga responded with sincerity.

"You’ve always been my mo va on and inspira on. Everything I’ve
done, it’s because of you."
His father’s smile widened, and there was a hint of pride in his voice. "I
read about everything you’re doing at Pinnacle. I see you in the papers
and on TV. You’re doing well, my son. I am proud of you.”
Gbenga’s mother, who was standing nearby, beamed with pride as

well, her eyes sparkling with joy as she watched her son. "Our Gbenga.
Our own genius," she added, her voice filled with affec on.
But his father, ever the businessman, shi ed gears smoothly. "It’s me
to bring that chapter to a close, son. You’ve proven yourself. Now it’s
me for you to come home.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, listening carefully. He knew what was

coming. "Come home?" he asked, even though he already knew what
his father meant.
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“Yes," his father con nued. "You’ve reached the top, Gbenga. You’ve
achieved everything you set out to, but now it’s me to join the family
business. It’s me to start taking over.”
Gbenga nodded slowly. "I know, Daddy. I’ve been thinking about it.
You’re right. It’s me. But I wanted to prove to myself—and to
you—that I could succeed without the family name.”
His father clapped him on the back. "And you’ve done that. I’ve even
bought enough shares to own most of that bank if I wanted to. So, if
you s ll love banking, there’s always that op on. But it’s me to start
transi oning into the family business.”
"Like I said, I’ve been thinking about it for some me now. And... Well,
I’ve also been thinking about se ling down."
His mother, who had been listening carefully, perked up at that.

"Se ling down?" she repeated, her tone suddenly excited. "Is it that
girl? The one you’re bringing to your party.”
Gbenga smiled and scratched his head. "Yes, Ma. That girl. My Girl”
His mother gasped, her eyes wide. "It’s true? There’s really a girl?”
His father, amused, leaned in, clearly interested now. "Tell us more.
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Who is she? Do we know her family?”
Gbenga hesitated for a moment then decided to dive in. "Well, her
family is not what we’re used to. They’re from a very humble
background."
His mother’s face fell slightly. "How humble?”
"Very humble," Gbenga said honestly. "I met her through work during
the event in Ethiopia. And I can’t explain it, but from the moment I saw
her... I felt something. Something real.”
His father leaned back, though ul. "And you’re sure about this?”
"I’ve prayed about it, Daddy, and I’m sure. She’s different. She’s not
a er my money. She didn’t even know who I was for the longest me.
She likes me for me."
His mother sighed heavily. "I don’t know about this, Gbenga. There’s a
girl I had in mind for you. Harvard educated, ambi ous, and from a
good family.”
Gbenga shook his head. "It’s not about ambi on or family names for
me anymore; it’s about what makes me feel grounded and at peace.
She makes me happy.”
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His father smiled approvingly. "Happiness. Now that’s something not

everyone can boast of.”
His mother looked conflicted, her emo ons torn between pride and
concern. "So when do we meet her?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Soon, Mummy," he said with a grin. "I just need to finalise some
things with the event planner first. But you’ll meet her soon.”
His mother sighed again, clearly trying to wrap her head around it. "I
just hope you know what you’re doing. Don’t disgrace me."
Gbenga laughed. "Trust me, Mummy. I won’t." Before leaving the

room, he turned back. "Oh, and Mummy, I need you to arrange a
mee ng with the event planner. I have some important things I need
her to handle.”
His mother gave him a reluctant nod. "Alright, I’ll make sure it’s
arranged."
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A few days later
Precious sat in the lunchroom, trying to enjoy her meal, while her
colleagues’ teasing con nued unabated.
“Precious, this car that dropped you off today again, na wa o! Are we

going to get any gist, or are you going to keep us in suspense?” one
colleague quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Another chimed in, her voice filled with curiosity, “Abi o, and that food
delivery on Tuesday, eh? What’s going on? You can’t just be keeping all
this from us. It’s me you spill the beans.”
Precious smiled awkwardly, not wan ng to engage too much. If only

they knew, she thought, her mind already filled with more important
things than their cha er. As she scrolled through her phone, a
message from Gbenga appeared:
I was going to pick you up for lunch, but my dad dragged me to a

mee ng with the Lagos State Governor, so I am in Ikeja, close to your
office. We're doing a partnership with the government. I’ll send my
driver to pick you up a er work.
Precious quickly typed back: No need to send the driver, please. My

colleagues are already talking, and I’d rather keep things low-key for
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now.
Gbenga replied almost instantly: I understand, but you’ll have to get

used to this eventually.
She sighed as she put her phone down. Her colleagues’ ques ons
were already becoming exhaus ng, but she didn’t have the energy to
explain everything just yet. As she sat back, her thoughts wandered
back to the Ethiopian Airlines job. The idea of becoming an air hostess
had been tugging at her heart for weeks now, but with everything
happening with Gbenga, it felt more distant.
Would I really need to work a job like that if I end up with someone like
him? The thought le a strange taste in her mouth. Was she really
about to abandon the dream God had put in her heart just because
she met someone wealthy?
Gbenga was succeeding in his path, she thought, her guilt star ng to
build. He was working with his family, making deals with the governor,
and following his purpose. What’s going to be my own legacy? How
am I going to live up to what God has placed in my heart?
Her stomach kno ed at the realisa on. I can’t let this go just because
of comfort. She pulled out her phone and quickly returned to
researching the Ethiopian Airlines air hostess programme. She had to
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do this. She had to pursue what God told her to do.
As she scrolled through the requirements, reality hit her again—the

training costs, the flight fees—all of it seemed out of reach. But it’s my
calling, she reminded herself, her resolve strengthened. She spent the
rest of her break engrossed in the research, determined to find a way
to make her dream a reality. When she returned to the office, her
colleagues were huddled around the TV where Lagos State Television
was broadcas ng a live press conference.
“Wow, Doogee Oil is partnering with the Lagos State Government?

That’s huge!” one colleague remarked. “The Ayo-Douglas family really
has Lagos in a chokehold with all their investments in oil.”
Another colleague nodded, eyes glued to the screen. “And that’s

Gbenga Ayo-Douglas on the le . I heard he’s s ll not married. Isn’t he
in his late thir es?”
“Yes o! I think he’s around thirty-nine,” another chimed in.
Precious smiled to herself, thinking he’s going to be forty soon.
One of the ladies sighed drama cally. “Ah, whoever marries that one is
lucky o!”
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Precious’ smile widened. If only they knew.
Gbenga sat comfortably in his mother’s office in Ikoyi, wai ng for

Omolara to arrive. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of the
chair as he reflected on the day so far. The press conference had gone
smoothly, but it was this mee ng that held his real focus. Even though
he was going to meet Precious later in Ikeja, he followed his father’s
chopper to Ikoyi. Planning his for eth birthday was important, but the
bigger picture—the proposal—was the main reason for this covert
mee ng.
Precious.
The thought of her filled him with warmth and brought a smile to his
face. His life had felt complete before her—successful, even, but
complete wasn’t the same as fulfilled. He snapped out of his thoughts
when the door opened, and Omolara walked in, her eyes wide with a
mixture of surprise and excitement. She wasn’t expec ng me to be
here, Gbenga thought, amused by her reac on. She straightened her
posture quickly, smiling broadly.
"Good evening, sir. I’m so honoured to be working with you again.

Thank you for the opportunity," she began, her voice enthusias c but
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controlled. "Your mum told me you personally recommended me for

this project. I didn’t know I le such an impression during the
anniversary event.”
Gbenga chuckled so ly. "You did leave an impression, Omolara, and

that’s exactly why I need you again. But this me, it’s more personal
than the anniversary." His tone turned serious as he con nued, "This
isn’t just about my birthday; I’m planning to propose to my girlfriend,
and I want everything to be perfect.”
Omolara’s eyes widened in delight. "Wow, sir! That’s incredible news.

Your proposal will definitely be the highlight of the year. And I’m
certain the wedding will be the talk of the town. We’d love to plan that
as well!" She beamed, excitement filling her voice.
Gbenga smiled again but remained focused. "The wedding? That will
be her choice," he said, emphasising the point. "For now, I need you to
handle everything for the birthday. And more importantly, I want you
to help prepare her, make her feel special. She’ll need a complete
wardrobe makeover. I need you to find a personal stylist for her, but
remember, it has to stay true to her style. Nothing too imposing. I want
her to feel like herself, just elevated.”
He paused, thinking about how Precious carried herself with such

grace and modesty. He didn’t want that changed, but he wanted her to
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experience the luxury she deserved. She would finally understand

that she was worth everything.
"Get her a collec on of clothes that aligns with her preferences, and
make sure she’s styled appropriately for the party. No expense limit.
She deserves to feel like a queen.”
Omolara nodded vigorously, clearly thrilled with the task. "Absolutely,

sir. I’ll bring in the best stylist for her, and we’ll make sure everything
reflects her personality. She’ll look amazing.”
Gbenga leaned back, pleased. "Also, I need to know her ring size, but
discreetly. She can’t know anything about it.”
Omolara blinked in surprise but quickly composed herself. "Of course,

sir. We’ll handle that with utmost discre on.”
“Good,” This is all coming together perfectly. "And for the proposal,"
Gbenga con nued, "I want it to be a surprise at the end of the party.
Something in mate; just between us a er the celebra on."
Omolara smiled wider, her excitement growing. "This is beau ful, sir. I
can already see it in my mind, but I suggest something grand and open
to make her feel special. Do you have her contact informa on so I can
begin the process?”
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Gbenga grinned, an amused expression crossing his face. Here it

comes. "You already have it.”
Omolara furrowed her brow. "I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think I do. Your
mum didn’t give me her details.”
"You do. It’s Precious.”
Omolara’s jaw dropped slightly. "Precious? The same Precious who

worked with me during the anniversary?" She was clearly taken aback.
"Yes, the very same. I met her that day in my office, and it was love at
first sight for me." Gbenga smiled warmly, remembering the moment.
There’s never been anyone like her. "I owe you for bringing her to me,
Omolara. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
Omolara quickly recovered from her shock, her professionalism

returning. "Wow, sir, this is… amazing. I’m honoured to be part of this.
Precious is a wonderful girl.”
"Call her, set everything up, and make sure she feels pampered," he
said. "This is important to me. I’ll be asking for regular updates. That
would be all.”
Omolara, who is s ll reeling from the shock of finding out that

Precious is the girl Gbenga is enamoured with, stood to leave while
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Gbenga leaned back in the chair, pulled out his phone and dialled
Precious.
"Hey, Precious," he said, his voice warm. "Have you seen my driver
yet? Where are you?”
Precious’s voice came through the line, sounding slightly flustered.

"I’m s ll at work. My boss delayed me. I’m just about to leave now.”
Gbenga chuckled. She was always in a rush. "No worries. Let my driver
bring you straight to me. I’d love to see you. We need to make the most
of this week, remember?”
Precious laughed so ly. "Okay. As long as he takes me back home

a erward.”
"Of course. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll see you soon.”
He ended the call, feeling an unusual sense of peace. This was the
beginning of everything, he thought, as he smiled and prepared for
the evening ahead.
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The dim ligh ng of the exclusive club added to the cosy, in mate
atmosphere as Gbenga and Precious sat together. A live band played
soothing music, their melodies intertwining with the low hum of
conversa ons from the surrounding tables filled with Lagos’s elite. It
was a perfect evening—the kind of se ng that made it easy to lose
yourself in the company of someone special.
Precious couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place among the senior
execu ves and business moguls around them, but Gbenga’s presence
grounded her. They’d just finished their meal, and while the plates
were being cleared, he had moved closer to her on the plush leather
couch. She looked away shyly, her fingers fidge ng with the hem of
her dress, but she could feel his gaze on her.
“You’ve s ll not go en used to me, have you?” Gbenga asked so ly,

his voice filled with warmth and amusement.
Precious tried to smile, but her cheeks betrayed her with a blush.
“Well... it’s going to take a li le while,” she admi ed quietly, glancing
at him before turning away again.
Gbenga chuckled. “It’s been weeks, Precious. Don’t tell me you’re s ll
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shy.”
She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she shook her head,
laughing lightly. “Maybe I’m just ge ng used to all of this. You know,
being around someone like you.”
Gbenga reached for her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with
hers. She looked down at their joined hands, feeling a flu er in her
chest. “I just like being around you,”
he said, his voice lowering as if he were confessing something

important. “I s ll can’t explain why I’ve fallen so hard for you, but
there’s something about you, Precious. Something special.”
Precious’s eyes so ened as she looked at him. “You’re special too,”

she said quietly. “You’re so inten onal with me... so kind. I’ve never
had someone care about me like you do.”
Gbenga smiled, a genuine warmth radia ng within him. “Oh, you

haven’t seen anything yet. I’ve barely started,” he said playfully, his
tone teasing but sincere. “Get ready, because it’s about to get real.”
Precious’s eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head, laughing
so ly. “No, no, I don’t want anything...”
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Gbenga leaned in, his voice turning serious again. “Things? Giving you
things is the least I could do for you. What’s important is this feeling I
have for you. My me, my affec on... Those are things I’ve never really
given to anyone outside my family. But now, I just want to experience
everything with you. I want to travel the world with you, build a life
with you... have children with you.”
The last part made Precious’s breath catch in her throat, warmth
spreading across her face. Gbenga no ced and grinned widely.
“If you were white, I bet your cheeks would be as red as a tomato right
now,” he teased. “What’s making you shy about having kids with me?”
Precious quickly looked away, laughing nervously. “I... I don’t know. I

just don’t want to imagine the process.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh,

someone’s ge ng naughty now, huh?”
“Stop it!” she laughed, shaking her head. “Let’s change the topic,
please.”
Gbenga leaned back, his gaze s ll fixed on her. “Okay, okay. I’ll
behave.” He paused, his tone shi ing to something more though ul.
“So... What do you really want to do with your life, Precious?”
Precious’s smile faded slightly as she thought about it. “I’ve been
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meaning to talk to you about that,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I
know my government job is stable and all, but it’s not really what I
want to do.” Gbenga listened closely, his eyes narrowing with
curiosity. “I want to work for Ethiopian Airlines,” Precious con nued,
her voice filled with a hint of excitement. “It’s been a dream of mine
since my last trip to travel, meet people from all over the world, and to
make las ng connec ons.”
Gbenga’s expression darkened slightly. “As what?”
“A flight a endant,” Precious answered, her tone filled with

convic on. “I know it may not seem like much, but I feel like it’s where
I’m meant to be. I could make an impact in my own way.”
Gbenga leaned back, shaking his head slightly. “Babe... no. That’s
beneath you. You’re talking about being a glorified waitress in the sky.
Why would you want that?”
Precious frowned, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean ‘beneath

me’? This is my dream. This is where I feel God is leading me.”
Gbenga’s grip on her hand ghtened. “You’re more than that,

Precious. Some mes, we dream small because of the limita ons of
our environment. I understand why you might have thought this was a
big deal, but you can aim higher.”
Precious’s eyes flashed with frustra on as she pulled her hand away.
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“Are we about to have our first fight over this?”
“I’m not trying to fight, but I just don’t agree with you,” Gbenga said,
his voice firm but calm. “Why would you se le for something so small
when you could do so much more?”
“Small?” Precious echoed, standing up abruptly. “This is my life,

Gbenga. My choice. You don’t get to tell me what’s small or what’s big.
This is what God wants for me.”
Gbenga stood up as well, running a hand through his hair, his

frustra on evident. “I just want more for you. That’s all. I want you to
see yourself the way I see you.”
Precious shook her head, taking a step back. “I think I need to leave.
This conversa on is taking us to places I don’t want to go.”
Gbenga’s heart sank, but he nodded slowly. “Okay... I’ll give you space.
But my driver will take you home.”
Precious hesitated, bi ng her lip before nodding. “Fine. Thanks.”
She turned to leave, but Gbenga reached out, gently pulling her back
into his arms. He hugged her ghtly, pressing a so kiss to her
forehead. “We’ll figure this out, okay?” he murmured. “Don’t worry
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about it. I love you, Precious.”
She pulled away slightly, looking up at him with a so , conflicted smile.

“Thank you, Gbenga,” she whispered, her voice tender. “Good night.”
As she walked away, Gbenga watched her go, his heart heavy. But even
as she disappeared from view, a small smile tugged at his lips. She
hadn’t said it back yet, but someday... someday she would.
“I’ll wait,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll wait for you to say it.”
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CHAPTER TEN
Omolara stepped out of the car, immediately awestruck by the sheer

size of Aun e Mildred’s Lace Store in Ikoyi. She’d heard about it since it
was rumoured to be the biggest in Nigeria, but actually seeing it was
something else. The background seemed to blur as the store
stretched far into the distance. Just being there felt like stepping into a
different world, one where the elite moved and made decisions that
shaped fortunes. Ge ng a grip of herself, she made her way to the
entrance and was greeted not by an assistant or security, but by
Aun e Mildred herself, who glided out of the doors like royalty, her
posture tall and imposing.
This must be serious, Omolara thought, her heart skipping a beat.

From what she knew of Aun e Mildred, the woman did not come out
for anyone—not even for clients. She was proud, and bowed to no
one. For her to personally escort Omolara inside meant one thing:
something big was in the works.
“Welcome, Omolara,” Aun e Mildred said with a smooth, confident

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tone that sent shivers down Omolara’s spine. The older woman
smiled, but there was an edge to her hospitality. “I appreciate you
coming on such short no ce.”
“Of course, ma. I’m honoured,” Omolara replied, keeping her voice
steady as they walked inside, the grandeur of the store swallowing
them. The air smelled of lavender and expensive cologne as they
walked through hallways adorned with chandeliers, every step
echoing on the polished marble floors.
They entered a private office, even grander than Omolara had

imagined. Aun e Mildred gestured to a seat in front of her massive
desk. “Please, sit.”
As soon as Omolara sat down, she straightened up. She knew she had
to impress Aun e Mildred. Gbenga’s mother had already handed the
party planning over to her, which meant this woman now held the
reins. Pleasing her was not just a professional obliga on; it was
essen al for the future of her business.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” Aun e Mildred said, her voice dropping
slightly. “My nephew, Gbenga, men oned that you used to work with
his girlfriend. This girl, Precious, I believe. That’s why he chose you to
plan his birthday event. He thought you’d understand her be er, make
her comfortable. Now, I’m not one to beat around the bush,” she said,
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pausing briefly as she stared straight at Omolara. “I want her out of the
picture.”
Omolara blinked, her mind racing. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not interested in that girl being with Gbenga,” Aun e Mildred
con nued, leaning forward slightly. “I know women like her; girls
without class and proper upbringing. She’s not the type to marry into a
family like ours.”
Omolara’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure where this

conversa on was headed, but she was star ng to sense that Aun e
Mildred had an agenda far beyond event planning.
“I understand your concerns,” she said cau ously, “but planning

events is my scope of work. Who Gbenga chooses to be with is not
something I can influence.”
Aun e Mildred smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, you
can’t directly change who he chooses. But you and I both know that
everyone has a price. Omolara, the right mo va on can go a long
way.”
Omolara shi ed uncomfortably in her seat. “I don’t swing that way,

ma.”
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Aun e Mildred smiled wider this me, reaching into her desk drawer.
She pulled out a sleek calculator, pressing a few bu ons. She turned it
around so Omolara could see the figure she had entered.
Omolara’s breath caught in her throat. She suppressed her shock,

trying to maintain her composure. “Ma...”
“This can be yours,” Aun e Mildred said smoothly, “if you tell me
everything you know about Precious and help me get her out of the
picture.”
Omolara swallowed hard. The number on the calculator was enough

to make anyone reconsider their ethics, but something in her told her
to tread carefully. “Ma, what I can assure you is that this conversa on
stays between us. Let me think about this.”
Aun e Mildred’s smile became even more dangerous, as though she

had already won. “That’s fair. I’ll give you two days to decide. Trust me,
I’m the kind of person you want to be loyal to. Beyond this figure, your
business would soar. Every influen al woman in this society is a friend
of mine. They’ll all come to you a er this.”
Omolara nodded, standing up slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As she stepped out of the office, Aun e Mildred’s words echoed in her
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Gateway To Heaven
ears. Every influen al woman in society is my friend. But as Omolara

made her way out of the grand store, she couldn’t stop thinking about
Precious. Sure, Aun e Mildred was a powerful ally to have. Aligning
with her could change everything for her business, but there was
something about Precious that Omolara couldn’t dismiss. Gbenga
seemed serious about her, and immediately choosing Aun e
Mildred’s side wasn’t wise. She had to see Precious first, Omolara
decided, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She needed to gauge the
situa on. If Precious was really going to be Gbenga’s wife, she was
about to become a very powerful woman too. This was more than just
planning a party. It was about choosing sides—and she needed to
make the right one.
The sun had fully risen on Saturday morning, cas ng its warmth over
the bustling compound. Precious sat beside her younger sister,
Hannah, both of them knee-deep in laundry as they scrubbed clothes
in plas c buckets. Around them, life in the neighbourhood moved on
at its usual rhythm—people fetched water, children dashed past with
buckets in hand, and the scent of smoke mixed with pepper filled the
air as their mother tended to a bubbling pot on a charcoal stove
nearby. Precious scrubbed at the clothes absentmindedly, her
thoughts elsewhere. Her movements were slow, her energy subdued,
and Hannah no ced.
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“You’ve been moody since yesterday,” Hannah finally said, giving

Precious a side-eye. “What’s going on?”
Precious shook her head, focusing on the clothes in front of her. “It’s
nothing,” she mu ered.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you’ve been ac ng like someone
with a broken heart since you came back last night. You’re da ng a rich
man now, abi? What’s there to be moody about? What’s wrong with
you?”
Precious glanced around nervously, her eyes landing on their mother,

who was s ll s rring the pot on the other side of the yard. She lowered
her voice. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Why? Because of Mummy?” Hannah raised an eyebrow, scoo ng

closer. “Just whisper. She can’t hear us from over there.”
Precious hesitated, bi ng her lip. Then, a er a moment, she relented,

her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... I don’t like the idea of a
man thinking he can control me just because he has money.”
Hannah blinked in surprise. “Wait, what? He’s controlling you?” She

leaned in, her voice rising in indigna on. “Is Gbenga one of those
domineering guys? Ah! That’s bad o! Just because he’s older or rich—”
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Gateway To Heaven
“No, no, no,” Precious interrupted, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.
He’s actually very considerate. He’s nothing like that. It’s just that...”
She trailed off, cas ng another glance toward their mother.
“Just what?” Hannah pressed, her eyes widening with curiosity.
“I told him about my dream,” Precious said so ly, s ll hesitant. “About

wan ng to work with Ethiopian Airlines, you know, as a hostess. It’s
something I want to do, but when I told him, he beli led it. He didn’t
see it as something important. Even when I told him it’s what I feel God
wants me to do, he s ll didn’t understand.”
Hannah sat back, blinking in disbelief. “So wait, you’re mad because
he doesn’t like your dream job?”
“It’s not just that,” Precious said, her frustra on bubbling up. “It’s
that... I don’t want to give up on my own dreams just because I’m
da ng him. Just because he’s rich doesn’t mean I should stop being
who I am.”
Hannah sighed, shaking her head. “You s ll want to work? You’ve

found a man like Gbenga, who can provide for you in ways you’ve
never had before, and you’re worried about working as a hostess?”
Precious paused, her brow furrowing. “It’s not about the money. I
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don’t think Gbenga even wants me to stay home and be a housewife.

He just wants me to dream bigger. But what if... what if this is my
dream? What if I’m okay with that?”
Before Hannah could respond, their mother, who had been quietly
listening from afar, finally joined the conversa on. She dropped the
spoon she was using to s r her pot and walked toward them with a
look of disbelief.
“You mean to tell me,” their mother began, her voice rising with every
word, “that the man God sent to remove you from this poverty—this
rich, well-to-do man—doesn’t want you to do that small job, and
you’re here complaining?”
“Mummy, it’s not like that,” Precious started, but her mother cut her
off, waving her hands in exaspera on.
“This is how the devil works, eh! This is how he sca ers blessings!” her
mother declared, pacing in front of them. “You are telling me you
want to argue with a man who is ready to elevate your life? Look at
you! Do you know how many girls are praying for what you have now?
This man is offering you a be er life, and you want to argue with him?”
“Mummy, please, just stop,” Precious said, glancing away and focusing
again on the clothes. She didn’t want to have this argument right now.
Or ever.
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Gateway To Heaven
Hannah stepped in, trying to mediate. “Mummy, please. Just leave it.
You’re making it harder for her. Respect her feelings.”
Their mother huffed, throwing up her hands. “Ah, you young people of
today, you don’t listen. You’ll see. I’ve said my own.” She returned to
her pot, shaking her head.
Precious’s phone buzzed, providing a much-needed distrac on. She

wiped her hands on one of the clothes and checked the screen. It was
a message from Gbenga.
Babe, I don’t like how things ended yesterday. Please spend tomorrow
with me. I’ll send the driver over, and we can go to church together,
then spend the day just talking and ge ng to know each other be er. I
miss you.
Precious stared at the message, her heart heavy. Hannah, no cing the
change in her expression, nudged her.
“Who is that? Gbenga?”
Precious nodded. “Yeah. He wants to spend tomorrow with me.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “So why do you look like someone just
died? Isn’t that what you want?”
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“It’s not that I don’t want to see him,” Precious replied, le ng out a
deep sigh. “But he didn’t even ask if I was free. He just assumed I’d
drop everything for him.”
“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Hannah asked.
“Not really, but s ll, he should ask, right?”
Hannah shrugged. “Why don’t you just tell him you’re busy then? It’s
not a big deal.”
Precious hesitated then typed a reply: Sorry, I have a busy day

tomorrow.
The response from Gbenga was almost instant. Oh, I’m so sorry. I
should’ve asked. It’s okay. Whatever you have planned, I’ll work
around it. If we can’t see tomorrow, that’s fine. But babe, I miss you
already.
Precious’s face so ened, a small smile tugging at the corners of her

lips. “Maybe I’m overreac ng,” she murmured. “He’s not trying to
control me. He just wants to spend me together.”
Hannah grinned. “See? I told you.”
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Another message buzzed in. By the way, I’ve given your number to the
event planner for my birthday party. She’ll contact you soon. Please
make me to talk to her tomorrow. I love you.
Precious’s smile faltered as she read the last line. “What do I even say
to that?”
“To what?” Hannah asked, leaning in. Precious showed her the
message, her finger hovering over the words I love you. Hannah
chuckled. “It’s obvious the guy is madly in love with you. Do you share
the same intensity of feelings?”
Precious blushed. “I... I’ve fallen for him, too. But saying ‘I love you’ so
soon... Isn’t it too early?”
Hannah gave her a knowing smile. “If you love him, then just say it.
Don’t overthink it. He’s being honest with you.”
Precious smiled again, this me more confidently. Maybe it was me

to tell Gbenga how she really felt.
182
Precious entered the cosy coffee shop, the warm scent of freshly
brewed coffee and pastries immediately hi ng her senses. The rich
aroma of caramel la es and bu er croissants filled the air,
momentarily soothing her nerves. Her eyes scanned the room un l
they landed on Omolara, already seated at a table near the window,
exuding the same air of control she always had. She rose gracefully as
Precious approached, flashing a wide smile that felt too forced and
too eager.
"Precious, darling! Over here!" she called, her voice overly sweet.
Precious’s stomach kno ed as she moved forward, returning the

smile politely, though her heart wasn’t in it. “Good a ernoon,” she
said, her voice steady but distant.
“Sit, sit!” Omolara gestured, immediately going in for a hug.
Precious s ffened slightly as Omolara’s perfume mixed with the smell

of pastries, enveloped her in a disconcer ng mix of warmth and
ar fice. As she pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel like this was a
performance. She’s only doing this because of Gbenga.
“Would you like anything to drink, darling? The coffee here is divine.
And the pastries, oh, you must try them!” Omolara smiled, waving
over the waiter with a subtle flick of her hand.
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“Water is fine, thank you,” Precious replied, trying to keep her tone
neutral.
Omolara raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking over Precious as though

assessing her. “Are you sure? You should indulge a li le, live a li le.”
She chuckled so ly, as though they were old friends sharing a private
joke.
Precious politely declined again, and as Omolara placed her elaborate

order, Precious braced herself for the conversa on she dreaded.
“Now, darling, I’m glad we could have this li le chat.” Omolara’s tone
was bright, but Precious could sense the shi coming. “I just wanted to
clear the air. You know, what happened in Ethiopia wasn’t personal. I
acted out of precau on. These things happen when young girls get
too close to clients. I couldn’t have known what your inten ons were,
and with the kind of work we do, appearances ma er.”
Precious bit her lip, trying to hide her irrita on. Appearances. “But I
never gave you a reason to doubt me, ma’am,” she said, her voice
quiet but firm. “I’ve never crossed any lines.”
Omolara waved a hand, brushing away the thought as though it was

inconsequen al. “Oh, darling, I understand that now. But at the me,
it was just... Well, let’s say I didn’t want any misunderstandings. But
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look at you now, you're with Gbenga Ayo-Douglas! Clearly, things

worked out for the best, right?”
Precious’s heart ghtened. “He pursued me a er you fired me. I didn’t

plan any of this. I le Ethiopia to avoid him.” She paused, taking a
steadying breath. “But he... he didn’t give up. It wasn’t about
appearances or money. He was genuine.”
Omolara smiled, though there was something cold about her eyes.
“Well, however it happened, darling, I must say congratula ons.
You’re stepping into a whole new world now, and believe me, it’s a
world where how you present yourself ma ers more than you think.”
Precious’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean ma?”
Omolara leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly. “Precious, when

you’re standing beside a man like Gbenga, people will look at you
differently. You’re entering rooms where people will judge you before
you even speak. You need to be prepared for that. In this world, you're
addressed the way you dress. You have to look the part.”
Precious’s stomach churned. Is this what being with Gbenga means?

Constantly changing to fit into his world?
“Gbenga has asked me to arrange for a personal shopper and stylist

for you,” she con nued smoothly as if she hadn’t just delivered a life-
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altering decree. “He wants to make sure you’re... polished. He has a

certain image to uphold, and you’ll need to reflect that.”
Precious frowned, feeling her defences rise. Is he not happy with how I
look now? Does he think I’m not good enough?
Omolara smiled indulgently, her tone turning slightly condescending

at the look on Precious’s face. Almost as if she could read her mind,
she said, “Darling, don’t interpret this the wrong way. You’re lovely as
you are, but there’s a certain refinement that’s expected at this level.
Gbenga simply wants to help you elevate your appearance. There’s
nothing wrong with a li le upgrade, is there?”
Precious could feel the patronising undertone in her words, the subtle
reminder that she was the outsider in this world. “I don’t want to
change who I am.”
Omolara lted her head, her smile never faltering. “Oh, darling, no
one’s asking you to change, but you’ll have to adapt. You’re not in the
same world anymore, and believe me, you’ll thank me later. You’ll be
entering rooms where appearances are everything.
You’ll need to be polished and put together in a way that reflects the
power and wealth that Gbenga has.”
186
The words stung, but there was a part of Precious that understood the
logic. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is just part of the new reality I
need to accept.
“But if it feels like too much,” she con nued, her voice now dripping
with fake concern, “I’d be more than happy to help with the wedding
as well. I know Gbenga would want only the best, and I’d ensure it’s an
event to remember. What do you think?”
Precious’s smile ghtened. She’s trying to take control again. “There

are no wedding plans yet,” she said so ly, her eyes not mee ng
Omolara’s.
Omolara’s smile flickered, but she recovered quickly. “Of course,

darling. Whenever you’re ready. And trust me, I think it will be sooner
than later.”
As the conversa on wound down, Precious sat back, enjoying the

aroma of coffee and pastries. The power dynamics had shi ed. She
wasn’t the naive assistant anymore, and Omolara knew it.
“Thank you for mee ng me,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I’ll
think about everything.”
Omolara nodded, her smile s ll firmly in place. “Of course, darling.
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Just remember, you’re in very good hands.”
As Precious stood to leave, she felt a small but significant shi within
herself. She doesn’t control me anymore. And with that thought, she
le the coffee shop, feeling more in control than ever.
Omolara rose from her seat, holding the takeaway pack of the food
she couldn’t eat because the mee ng had ended early. As she trailed
a er Precious out of the coffee shop, she replayed the en re
conversa on in her mind, no ng the subtle cues.
Precious had been polite, yes, but there was something off, a quiet
detachment that she couldn’t shake. It dawned on her that she wasn’t
seeking her approval, nor was she looking for someone to align herself
with. In fact, it was as though the girl didn’t see her as significant
beyond the task at hand. Omolara’s chest ghtened slightly. She had
dealt with countless clients, many of them women who’d clawed their
way into Lagos’ upper echelons, women who knew the importance of
strategic allies. Precious, however, seemed blissfully unaware of how
this world worked, or perhaps she just didn’t care. Either way,
Omolara realised she had been le hanging. There was no alliance
here, no camaraderie.
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As she stepped out into the cool air, Precious not too far ahead, she
inhaled deeply, the scent of coffee lingering faintly, mixed with the
bustling sounds of the street. Precious wasn’t made for Gbenga’s
world. She didn't possess the finesse or the ruthlessness required to
navigate the circles in which Gbenga moved. She was too innocent;
too so . The more Omolara thought about it, the clearer it became.
Precious was des ned to struggle if she stayed by Gbenga’s side.
A sense of calm se led over her as she looked over at Precious, whose
expression remained unaffected by what was happening around her.
Ge ng her out of the picture might actually be doing her a favour. In
fact, Omolara was beginning to see this from a new angle. Perhaps this
is for her own good. Omolara had made up her mind. She had to align
herself with Aun e Mildred. This wasn’t just about business anymore,
it was about survival. Precious clearly didn’t understand the dynamics
of this world, and she wasn’t about to risk being on the wrong side of
it. Aun e Mildred had made a generous offer, and she knew be er
than to ignore such an opportunity.
As they parted ways, Omolara cast one last glance at Precious. She
doesn’t even see the storm brewing around her, she thought with a
sigh. Poor girl. With her decision now made, she straightened her
shoulders, a small smile forming on her lips. She had just secured her
place, no ma er what the outcome would be.
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Gbenga leaned casually against the car, smiling as he saw Omolara

step out of the coffee shop. But when his eyes dri ed past her to
Precious, his smile faltered. She wasn’t smiling back.
“Babe,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you
happy to see me? I was excited to surprise you. I wanted to see you off,
especially a er yesterday.”
Precious shi ed her weight, her expression hesitant. “Actually, I

wasn’t busy yesterday,” she said so ly. “I just felt it wasn’t right of you
to assume I’d have nothing else going on except wai ng for you.”
Gbenga blinked, caught off guard. “Oh wow! I’m sorry. That wasn’t my
inten on, Precious. I— I’m not here for too long, and I was trying to
maximise our me together. But I see how that came across, and I’m
sorry.”
Precious sighed. “It’s not just that,” she con nued. “It’s about
everything. Like hiring a personal shopper. You didn’t even ask me if
that’s something I’d want.”
Gbenga’s eyes so ened with realisa on. “I was just trying to make
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things easier for you.”
Precious looked him in the eye, her tone gentle but firm. “I’d rather we
went shopping together than having someone else make those
decisions for me. It feels more personal if we do it together, more fun.
I’d get to see what you like on me instead of someone else forcing their
choices on us.”
Gbenga was quiet for a moment, taking in her words. “That actually
makes a lot of sense. I thought I was helping, but I see how you’d feel
that way. I’d love to go shopping with you.”
Precious smiled slightly. “And if I had my way tonight, I think I’d want to
go to the movies. I love the nice restaurants and clubs, but some mes
just something normal is good too, you know?”
Gbenga chuckled. “The movies, huh? I can do that. I think it’ll be nice
to spend me just being together.”
Precious’s smile widened, though her eyes s ll held some uncertainty.

“So, can we have a conversa on about these things? I don’t want to
feel like I just have to go along with everything.”
“I’m sorry for making you feel like that,” he said earnestly. “I want this
rela onship to be a partnership. Let’s do what you want tonight.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Precious looked down, s ll processing everything. “I’m not trying to

frustrate you or your kind gestures, Gbenga. You’re though ul, and I
appreciate that. It’s just... I want to feel like I’m s ll myself in this
rela onship.”
Gbenga nodded, stepping closer and gently taking her hand. “I get it
now. I want you to always be yourself with me. No pressure, no
changing who you are. I just want us to be happy together.”
A so smile crept onto Precious’s lips. “You’re really trying, and that
makes me feel special.”
“You are special,” he said so ly. “This is going to work. It has to work.”
Precious hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and wrapped

her arms around him. For the first me, she ini ated the hug. Gbenga,
not needing more encouragement, pulled her ghter against him.
She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. “I love you,” she
whispered.
Gbenga froze for a second, pulling back slightly to look at her. “Wait...
Can you say that again?”
Precious smiled, looking up at him. “I love you. It’s hard not to love
192
someone who tries so hard.”
Gbenga grinned, feeling his heart swell. “You have no idea how long
I’ve been wai ng to hear you say that in this short me.”
Precious smiled and rested her head on his chest. “Let’s go to the
movies, Just something simple tonight.”
“Of course,” he said so ly, kissing the top of her head. “Tomorrow... I’d
love to spend the day with you too. Let’s explore each other’s worlds.”
Precious nodded. “That sounds nice.”
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
The grand living room of the Ayo-Douglas family home exuded wealth
and old-money charm. The crystal chandelier cast a so glow over the
leather furniture, and the large windows showcased a manicured
garden outside.
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas sat on one of the plush sofas, her hands folded in
her lap, tension radia ng from her shoulders. Across from her, Aun e
Mildred was perched on the edge of her seat, her eyes narrowing with
disapproval.
"You mean to tell me," Aun e Mildred began, her voice nged with
disbelief, "that your son is bringing home a nobody; a girl with no class,
no standing, and you’re just... fine with it?”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas sighed, leaning back into the sofa, her hand
brushing against the embroidered armrest. "Mildred, what do you
want me to do? It’s been almost ten years, and Gbenga hasn't looked
at a single woman. We’ve all been begging him to se le down, but he
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wouldn't. His father said we should leave him alone, and let him make
his own choices. Gbenga is not a boy. He can’t be controlled.”
Mildred’s face twisted in frustra on. "Leave him alone? You’re his
mother! The woman who should be guiding his future! And you’re
going to sit back and let him marry a girl from nowhere? Girls like her
bring nothing but trouble.”
At these words, Mrs. Ayo-Douglas felt her stomach twist. She had
been trying not to overthink the situa on, convincing herself that
Gbenga’s happiness was what ma ered. But now, her sister’s words
were digging in, plan ng seeds of doubt. Mildred always had a way of
making her feel uneasy, and today was no different.
"I thought I was doing the right thing," she murmured, her voice shaky.
"I didn’t want to push too hard. Gbenga said he prayed about it, that
this is the girl for him.”
Mildred scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, so Gbenga is more

Chris an than us now? We don’t pray, is that it? Heaven helps those
who help themselves, sis. Look at the girl I introduced you to… Harvard
graduate, well-bred, perfect in every way… You're willing to pass up
someone like that for someone you know nothing about? Someone
from a background you can’t even trace properly?”
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Mrs. Ayo-Douglas felt a cold sweat begin to form on her forehead.

What was she thinking? she wondered silently. "I just wanted Gbenga
to be happy," she whispered. What if he’s making a mistake?
"You need to stop this before it goes too far," Mildred said, her voice
firm. "You can’t allow this girl to drag him down. She’s probably
carrying all sorts of baggage—who knows what her background is
like? Do you even know if she’s clean? What kind of diseases might she
be carrying? What if she’s tainted? What if she brings her siblings’
children into your house? We need to think ahead. We can’t mix
poverty and disgrace into our bloodline.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas felt her pulse quicken. "Oh my God," she whispered,
placing a trembling hand on her chest. "You’re right, Mildred. I hadn’t
thought about it like that. What do we do now?”
Mildred smiled, her lips curving with sa sfac on. "Don’t worry, I’ve
already set things in mo on. You know that event planner Gbenga
men oned? Omolara? I’ve spoken to her. Turns out she used to work
with this girl and knows her well. We’ll get the informa on we need
and use it to make sure Gbenga opens his eyes and sees the truth
before it’s too late.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas leaned forward, despera on filling her voice. "But

how? What can we do?"
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"Leave that to me," Mildred replied confidently. "Gbenga may think

he's in love, but we’ll make sure that girl is out of his life before he
makes the mistake of proposing. We’ll introduce him to someone
more suitable, someone who matches our family's status.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas nodded slowly, her mind racing. This has to work. I
can’t let my son ruin his future.
"By the me I’m done,” Mildred con nued, “Gbenga will be back on
track. He’ll realise what’s best for him.”
Precious couldn’t help but smile as she and Gbenga walked through
the busy shopping district. This me, there was no hesita on, no
doubt clouding her mind. Today, she was genuinely enjoying herself.
For the first me in a long while, she was able to pick out whatever she
liked without worrying about the price tag. It wasn’t just the fact that
she didn’t have to count every penny that made her happy, but being
with Gbenga and seeing the way his a en ve eyes lit up when she
stepped out in a new dress, made her heart swell with joy. So this was
what it felt like to be truly pampered, to not have to worry about how
much something costs, to just enjoy the moment. She glanced at him
as he chose yet another beau ful ou it for her, smiling as he handed
over a so silk dress.
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“Try this one on,” he said. “I think it’ll look great on you.”
Precious took the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric between her
fingers. As she stepped into the fi ng room, she caught a glimpse of
herself in the mirror wearing the clothes they had picked out together.
Thank you Jesus, I never thought I’d be in a place like this, she mused,
shopping with a man like Gbenga. She stepped out of the fi ng room
to show him the dress. His smile widened when he saw her, and in that
moment, she felt the joy of being fully present, fully herself.
When they were done shopping, Gbenga insisted on carrying all the
bags as they drove back to her family house. Precious felt a warmth in
her chest, not just from the shopping spree, but from the knowledge
that Gbenga wanted to meet her parents. This was real. This was
happening.
As they walked into her family home, Precious could feel the
excitement radia ng from her mother, who had been eagerly awai ng
Gbenga’s arrival. Her father, though more reserved, greeted them
warmly.
"Welcome to our home, Gbenga," he said, offering his hand. "It’s a

pleasure to finally meet you.”
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"Thank you, sir," Gbenga replied, shaking his hand firmly. "It’s an
honour to be here.”
A er a few minutes of pleasantries, Precious’s father turned serious.

"Gbenga, we appreciate you being here today, but we also want to
know, what are your inten ons for our daughter?”
Gbenga met his gaze without hesita on. "Sir, I love your daughter
deeply. If I have your blessings, I’d like to marry her as soon as
possible.”
Precious’s heart flu ered at his words, her mother’s excitement

obvious as she placed a hand over her chest. "Of course, you have our
blessings!" she exclaimed.
Her father nodded, more contempla ve. "As long as Precious is happy,
you have mine as well.”
At that moment, Gbenga reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out
a crisp white envelope. He handed it to Precious’s father with both
hands, a gesture of respect. "This is a small token of my apprecia on
for welcoming me into your family. I hope it can make up for the fact
that I didn’t bring fruits or any tradi onal gi s.”
Precious’s mother smiled warmly, but it wasn’t un l Gbenga excused
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himself briefly that she opened the envelope. Her eyes widened in
shock when she saw the $2,000 inside.
“Gbenga!" Precious whispered when she met him outside. "You didn’t
need to do that!”
He laughed so ly. "Of course I did. It’s my first me mee ng your

parents. It’s a Yoruba tradi on to bring something when mee ng your
in-laws for the first me. Consider it a small gi .”
She playfully raised an eyebrow. "So you walk around with dollars
now?”
He chuckled. "I wanted to show your parents that their daughter will
be well taken care of.”
"You’re just showing off now," she teased.
Gbenga smiled, pulling her gently into a hug. "Maybe a li le, but I
want them to know you’re in good hands.”
Precious leaned into him, her heart feeling lighter. "I think they
already know." She hesitated for a moment before pulling back
slightly. "There’s one more person I want you to meet. My pastor.”
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Gbenga’s playful expression faltered for a moment. "Ah, I’m shy," he

joked, but Precious knew be er.
"You’ll be fine," she said, nudging him gently. "It’s just a short walk. He
lives in the pastorium just down the road."
.
"So this is the young man you’ve been telling me about," Pastor
Ezekiel said with a smile as soon as Precious walked in with Gbenga.
"Yes, Pastor," Precious replied. "I’m sorry we didn’t make an

appointment, but everything’s moving so fast, and. I wanted to keep
you informed.”
Pastor Ezekiel nodded, his eyes kind. "I understand. No need to

apologise. Let’s have a seat.”
Once they were se led, the pastor turned to Gbenga. "I’m sure
Precious’s father has already asked you some important ques ons,
but I would like to know, what are your thoughts about this
rela onship?”
Gbenga took a deep breath, his voice steady. "I want to spend the rest
of my life with her. That’s why I pursued her, and that’s why I’m here
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today.”
The pastor smiled warmly. "That’s good to hear. You know, love is a
beau ful thing, but it takes work to keep it strong. 1st Corinthians 13
talks about love being pa ent and kind, but it also requires sacrifice.”
He leaned forward slightly, his tone gentle but firm. "A successful
marriage isn’t just about the big moments or the roman c gestures.
It’s about the silent things, the day-to-day sacrifices that make love
last. Are you both ready for that kind of commitment?”
Precious and Gbenga exchanged a glance, their expressions serious.

"Yes, Pastor," they said in unison.
"Then let’s pray together," Pastor Ezekiel said, leading them in a prayer
for guidance and strength.
A er leaving the pastor’s office, Precious led Gbenga into the small
chapel next door. The quiet of the room enveloped them, and they
knelt together, side by side, their heads bowed in prayer.
“Lord," Precious began, her voice so but full of emo on, "we ask for
your guidance as we take this step together. Help us to always keep
you at the centre of our rela onship.”
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Gbenga squeezed her hand gently, con nuing the prayer. "Help us to
love each other the way you love us—selflessly, pa ently, and with
grace. We want our love to reflect your will for our lives, Lord."
Together, they prayed, asking God for wisdom, pa ence, and strength
as they moved forward in their rela onship. They prayed for their
future, for their families, and for their love to grow stronger with each
passing day.
As they rose from their knees, Precious felt a deep sense of peace
se le over her heart. This was it. This was the love she had prayed for,
and with God’s guidance, she knew it would last.
203
CHAPTER TWELVE
Precious stood in front of the bou que mirror, holding the stunning
beige dress against her body. The fabric shimmered under the lights,
and she couldn’t help but smile at her reflec on. It felt so right. She
could already picture herself at Gbenga's birthday party, surrounded
by Lagos elites, walking in with him by her side. The thought made her
heart skip a beat. She had never imagined herself in this world, yet
here she was, about to a end a high-profile event with one of the
wealthiest men she’d ever met.
Her sister, Hannah, eyed her from the corner of the room. "I don't get
you," she said, shaking her head as she flipped through a rack of
clothes. "Didn’t he just take you shopping? You already have a closet
full of clothes. Why didn’t you buy something for the party then?”
Precious lowered the dress and turned to face her sister. "I did buy a
lot of clothes. But I want to wear something different, something
special. He’s already seen the others. I want to surprise him.”
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Hannnah laughed, an amused glint in her eyes. "Look at you, being

fancy now. I thought you were boring!”
Precious chuckled. "Gbenga has taste and class. I want to look good for
him. It’s his birthday, and I’m his girlfriend. I should present myself like
a gi ." She li ed the beige dress once more, admiring its elegance.
"Okay, I see you," Hannah teased, moving closer. "And you know
what? That dress is gorgeous.”
“Yeah," Precious said, her smile widening, but as she glanced at the
price tag, her heart sank. "Oh my God, Hannah. This dress costs as
much as my salary for two months. I can’t afford this!" She let out a
disbelieving laugh. "And we haven’t even thought about the shoes.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. "Sis, you don’t have to worry about money
anymore. Just use your salary, look good, and trust me, Gbenga will
cover the rest. “
Precious shook her head firmly. "No way. I can’t ask him for money.
He’s already doing so much. It feels weird.”
"You don’t need to ask him," Hannah said, waving her hand
dismissively. "You’re his girlfriend. Just look stunning, and let him
appreciate it. You don’t want to disgrace yourself at that party with the
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kind of people that’ll be there.”
Precious sighed, glancing back at the dress. A part of her did want to
impress him and show him that she could fit into his world, but
another wondered if she was losing herself in the process. Was she
pretending? Trying to fit in?
"Isn’t this me pretending?" she murmured aloud. "Trying to fit in with

all the fancy people?”
Hannah shook her head. "No. You’re just being his girlfriend, Precious.
Trying to look the part isn’t pretending. It’s part of the game. And
besides, you’re not faking anything. You’re with him because you’re
special. Trust me.”
"Fine," she mu ered, taking the dress to the counter. "I’ll take it. But
I’m officially going bankrupt." Her voice was playful, but there was an
undercurrent of uncertainty.
As she waited for the cashier to wrap up the dress, Hannah wandered
over to the accessories sec on, picking out perfumes and
wristwatches. "You need to smell nice too, sis," she called out. "And
don’t forget a nice watch. Details ma er.”
Precious raised an eyebrow, watching her sister pile up accessories.
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"Oh God, Hannah! I’m going to end up broke before this party even
starts. How is this my life?”
Her sister grinned. "Your life is fabulous now! Trust me, you’ve earned
this.”
They laughed, and as Precious reached for her phone to call Gbenga
and ask his favourite colour, determined to switch the cloth to his
favourite colour, her mind wandered. Was this truly her new life, or
was she simply playing dress-up in Gbenga’s world?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Hannah. "By the way, have you guys
sorted out that Ethiopian Airlines thing?”
Precious’s face fell slightly. She let out a sigh. "Let’s not talk about that
now. Every me I think about that conversa on with Gbenga, it makes
me upset. I don’t want to ruin today.”
Her sister gave her a concerned look. "Does that mean you’re giving up
on that dream?”
Precious hesitated. "No. I’m not giving up. I just... I’m pu ng it on

hold. There’s too much going on right now.”
“Good," Hannah said firmly. "You’re doing the right thing. Focus on the
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present. It’s a big deal, being his girlfriend.”
Precious smiled, but deep down, she wasn’t en rely sure. Was she
making the right choices? Gbenga had told her to aim higher, to dream
bigger. But wasn’t she ambi ous enough? Or was he right, and she
was limi ng herself? As she paid for the dress, she turned to her sister
and asked the ques on that had been bothering her for days.
"Do you think I’m not ambi ous? I mean, Gbenga says I could be
aiming higher. I wonder if I’m the kind of woman he’s used to. He’s
surrounded by brilliance and ambi on. I don’t want him to get red of
me.”
Hannah paused, then gave her a knowing smile. "Precious, you were
the assistant to the assistant of an event planner when he met you,
and he s ll fell in love with you. I don’t think you need to worry about
that. He saw something special in you then, and he s ll sees it now.
Don’t overthink it.”
Precious chuckled, but a small part of her remained uncertain.

Gbenga might love her now, but what if she wasn’t enough for him in
the long run?
As they le the bou que, bags in hand, Precious tried Gbenga’s

number again, but it went to voicemail. She sighed, pushing her
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doubts aside. The birthday was coming up, and she needed to focus
on the now. However, she made them agree to let her swap the dress
for another colour if she changed her mind.
Gbenga was halfway through his workout rou ne when he realised he

had le his phone at home. The gym was close enough, so he decided
to run back, hoping he hadn't missed anything urgent. His thoughts
were s ll focused on his workout as he entered the house, his gym
wear clinging to his toned frame. He walked through the door, heading
straight for the stairs when his a en on was pulled by a voice in the
living room. He saw a woman, whose back was turned to him,
engrossed in a phone conversa on, her tone confident. But it wasn’t
just her figure that caught his a en on, though it was striking. It was
the conversa on itself.
"…the floa ng of the Naira may seem risky now, but in the long term,
it’s a strategic move. Sure, it's causing short-term instability, but it will
give the economy a chance to breathe. Once the markets adjust,
foreign investors will see more predictability in the system. The real
challenge is whether the CBN has the discipline to stay the course.”
Gbenga found himself slowing his steps, intrigued. How long had it
been since he heard a woman discuss economics with such depth and
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understanding? He stepped closer, leaning casually against the

doorframe as he listened.
“Yes," she con nued. "I know the banks are struggling, but if you think
about it from a treasury perspec ve, they could benefit if they
leverage the right liquidity windows. Especially the commercial
banks... They just need to manage their foreign reserves more
aggressively. If they can hold through the vola lity, they’ll see profits
in the long term.”
Gbenga’s eyebrows raised. Who was this woman? He agreed with

most of what she was saying, and as a treasurer himself, he couldn’t
help but be impressed. Suddenly, she turned, her eyes mee ng him.
The woman was beau ful, but her intellect was what had really
caught his a en on.
"Oh, let me call you back," she said politely, ending the call as she
walked toward him. "Hello. My name is Agnes," she smiled, extending
her hand. "I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had company. I hope I wasn’t too
loud.”
Gbenga shook her hand, s ll absorbing the turn of events. "No, not at
all. I’m Gbenga. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversa on, and I
have to say, I’m really impressed with your insight.”
210
Agnes smiled modestly. "Thank you. I’ve been keeping an eye on the
economy for a while now. It’s difficult not to, considering how it affects
everything.”
Before they could con nue, Aun e Mildred appeared from the
hallway, her voice full of warmth as she addressed Gbenga. "Ah,
you’ve met Agnes! Wonderful. She’s my friend’s daughter. She’s been
helping me with some research for my business.”
"Research?" Gbenga asked, intrigued.
"Yes, I’m trying to expand into Dubai. Agnes here was kind enough to
assist me with some financial analysis." Aun e Mildred beamed at
Agnes before glancing at Gbenga. "I told her I was stopping by your
mother’s to sort out aso-ebi for your birthday, so she kindly came
along to help.”
Agnes gave a small nod, looking slightly embarrassed by the praise.

Gbenga turned back to her. "I could tell you know your stuff. What do
you do?”
"I work with Access Bank," she replied.
Gbenga raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Access Bank? That’s a solid

bank. Ever thought about making a move to Pinnacle Bank? We could
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use someone with your insight.”
Agnes smiled. "I’m always open to new opportuni es.”
Aun e Mildred jumped in before Gbenga could respond. "Oh yes,

Gbenga! You should definitely exchange numbers with her. You two
could discuss it further.”
Gbenga hesitated for a second. His phone was s ll upstairs, and he

didn’t want to leave the conversa on, but Aun e Mildred wasn’t
about to let the moment slip. "Go get your phone," she insisted when
Gbenga told her he wasn’t with his phone.
He chuckled and made his way to his room. As he picked up his phone,
he no ced several missed calls from Precious. Damn. Guilt crept in as
he realised he had forgo en about her while caught up in the moment
with Agnes. He quickly pocketed his phone and returned to the living
room.
"Here," he said, handing his phone to Agnes so she could input her
number.
As she did so, Aun e Mildred clapped her hands with a smile. "Agnes
is coming to your birthday party by the way. She’s my plus-one. I
invited her.”
212
Gbenga felt a pang of discomfort but managed a polite smile. "Well, it

would be great to see you there," he said, trying to brush off the odd
tension. A er exchanging goodbyes, he quickly walked away and
dialled Precious. She picked up a er the first ring. "Hey babe," he said
warmly. "Sorry, I missed a few of your calls.”
Precious's voice was light. "No worries. I was just calling to ask...
What’s your favourite colour?”
Gbenga laughed, relaxing into the conversa on. "Blue. Why?”
"Oh, nothing," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I guess I need to
rethink some plans, and don’t ask me. It’s a surprise.”
He grinned. "Surprise me now, baby. I like surprises.”
"Well, you’ll just have to wait and see," she replied playfully before
ending the call.
As he hung up, his mind went back to the strange encounter with
Agnes. Aun e Mildred seemed a bit too eager. Something wasn’t
adding up, but he pushed the thought aside and focused on the
upcoming celebra on.
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As Gbenga waved goodbye and disappeared inside the house, Aun e

Mildred turned to Agnes, her smile growing as they stepped outside
towards the car. “You did a good job in there,” she said, nodding
approvingly. “I could see you caught his a en on. All that talk about
the economy, the Naira, the banks… That’s the kind of thing he likes.”
Agnes blinked, a li le taken aback. “You really think I impressed him?”
Aun e Mildred let out a so , knowing chuckle. “Ah, you impressed

him alright. I was watching his face. The way he stood there, listening
to you with rapt a en on, I knew you had him.”
Agnes smiled shyly. “I just hope this works out.”
Aun e Mildred stopped walking for a moment, placing her hand on

Agnes's shoulder. “It will, if you want it to work out. Have you picked
out your dress for his birthday party?”
Agnes nodded. “Yes, I have.”
“Good,” Aun e Mildred said with a grin. “Make sure it's blue. That’s
his favourite colour. And make it stunning.”
214
Agnes raised an eyebrow, feeling a li le uncertain. “Is that all?”
“Oh, no, that’s not all,” she replied, shaking her head with a sly smile.
“But leave the rest to me. You just show up, look amazing, and play
your part.”
Agnes nodded, though her nerves were beginning to catch up with

her. “Okay, I’ll do as you’ve said. But I don’t want to force anything. I
appreciate the introduc on, but I don’t want to throw myself at him.”
Aun e Mildred laughed again, this me more sharply. “My dear, if

there’s ever a man you want to ‘throw yourself’ at, trust me, it’s
Gbenga. He’s quite the catch. And don’t forget, our deal stands. Don’t
go changing your mind now. This will make sense for you, me, and
your family.”
Agnes swallowed, glancing down at the pavement as they approached

the car. “I understand, Aun e Mildred. Thank you. I appreciate
everything you’re doing for me.”
Aun e Mildred pa ed her arm as they reached the car. “Good girl.
That’s the a tude I expect from you.”
Agnes climbed into the passenger seat, her mind racing as Aun e
Mildred slid into the driver’s seat. The stakes were high, and she knew
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it. But if everything went according to plan, this could change her life.
216
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The pounding started again. Precious woke with a jolt, momentarily

confused by the sound reverbera ng through the house. For a second,
she wondered if it was all a part of her dream, but as her eyes adjusted
to the dim light in the room, reality set in. It was the contractor. He and
his team had been at the house for days, working on the renova ons
her father had insisted on a er Gbenga’s last visit.
“We can’t live like this anymore,” he said a er Gbenga gave them
money. “A man like that deserves to visit a house that matches his
status. We’ll fix the floors, paint the walls, and get new furniture. The
next me Gbenga comes here, he must see that we aren’t small
people.”
The house had been a construc on site ever since, but the loud noise
wasn’t what lingered on Precious’s mind. It was the dream she’d been
having before waking up—the dream where she was walking down
the aisle of an Ethiopian Airlines plane, dressed in an elegant uniform,
smiling at the passengers as the words echoed: Gateway to heaven!
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Gateway to heaven! Even as the sound of hammering and drilling

con nued outside her room, Precious felt the presence of God in the
air. She slipped out of bed and knelt beside it, closing her eyes and
praying in tongues, her spirit searching for clarity.
“Lord, what does this mean?” she whispered.
And then, like the breaking of dawn, the answer came. Your walk with
Ethiopian Airlines as an air hostess will be a gateway to heaven. Each
passenger you encounter will be an opportunity to sow seeds of
faith. You will be a vessel, a tool of the Holy Spirit to bring others
closer to God.
When Precious finally rose from her prayer, a calmness and peace that
surpassed understanding se led over her. This was her assignment.
This was why she had always felt drawn to the role. It wasn’t about the
job, or the travel—it was about the ministry that came with it.
Her phone rang, vibra ng on the nightstand. She saw Gbenga’s name
flash across the screen and smiled as she picked up. She should be the
one calling him, not the other way round.
“Happy birthday!” she exclaimed, feeling the warmth of his presence

even over the phone. “I pray that this year brings you joy, peace, and
all the desires of your heart. May God give you a gi that will truly
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make you happy.”
Gbenga’s laughter came through the line. “Thank you, my love. But
honestly, I don’t know what other gi God could give me. I already
have you, what could be be er than that?”
Precious blushed, her heart flu ering. “I love you, Gbenga.”
“And I love you too,” he said, his voice so ening. “Listen, my driver is
on his way to pick you up. You refused to stay at the hotel, so I’ve
decided to make sure you’re taken care of today. You s ll have to get
your makeup done, and your nails too. My driver will take you to all
those places.”
Precious laughed. “You’re always so though ul. I don’t know what I

did to deserve this.”
“It’s my birthday,” he replied, his tone light but filled with affec on. “I
want to know that the woman I love isn’t stressed, that she’s taken
care of.”
“You’re so sweet,” she said, her voice so ening. “But I would’ve been
fine on my own.”
“I know, but I want to do this for you. It’s important to me.”
219
Precious sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Okay, okay. I’ll go
get ready. But I s ll feel like I should be the one spoiling you today, it is
your birthday a er all.”
“Just being with you is enough,” he replied. “But I’ll take the spoiling
later. Go get ready, and I’ll see you soon.”
Precious hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, her mind
swirling with thoughts. The dream, the calling, Gbenga’s love...
Everything felt like it was moving too fast. Yet, for the first me, she felt
clarity about her purpose. Today wasn’t just Gbenga’s birthday—it
was a turning point. Something was about to shi in her life, and she
knew it.
A few hours later
Gbenga sat in the plush chair of his hotel suite, leaning back as the
barber finished trimming his hair while the manicurist delicately
worked on his nails. It was his birthday, but instead of soaking in the
celebra ons, he had retreated to the hotel for some much-needed
privacy. The family house was packed with rela ves, guests, and staff
preparing for his party, and peace had become a luxury he couldn’t
afford at home. He blamed himself for not leaving a er one week like
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he told his mother when he came back from Ethiopia. She had won
him with her charm. As he glanced at his reflec on in the mirror, his
phone vibrated on the table beside him. Seeing his father’s name,
Gbenga sighed. He already had a feeling that this wasn’t a simple
birthday call.
“Gbenga,” his father began, his tone as firm as always. “I know it’s your
birthday, and your mother is going to have my head for this, but we
have an urgent situa on.”
Gbenga sat up, his brows furrowing. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“There’s a deal on the table with the Chinese oil magnate. It’s been
months in the making, and it’s crucial for the family’s business. I need
you to lead the mee ng today.”
Gbenga ran a hand through his freshly cut hair. “Today?”
His father’s voice remained steady, unyielding. “I wouldn’t ask if it

wasn’t vital. You’ve been doing great things with Pinnacle, but
this—this is bigger. You’re the only one who can handle this.”
Gbenga shook his head slightly. “Dad, I love what I’m doing with
Pinnacle. I’m not ready to step away from that yet. I feel like I’m really
hi ng my stride there.”
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“I know you do,” his father replied, his voice so ening just a touch.
“But this isn’t about Pinnacle anymore. This is about the family. I’ve
given you the space to pursue your passions, but now it’s me to come
back. I’m ge ng older, and I need you to step into your role. You’re the
heir, Gbenga. The future of our empire depends on you.”
Gbenga took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re
right. I’ll be there. Send me the details.”
“Good boy,” his father said. “Think of this deal as a birthday gi . We’re
close to securing the Chinese expansion, and it’s yours to lead.”
“Got it,” he replied, though the knot in his stomach ghtened. “I’ll see
you soon.” A er ending the call, Gbenga immediately dialled Precious.
She picked up a er the first ring. “Hey babe,” he said so ly, knowing
he had to break the news to her. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
“What is it?” she asked, her voice light but curious.
“I won’t be there when you arrive at the party today,” he said, rubbing
his forehead. “I’ve got to a end a mee ng for a major deal my dad
wants me to handle.”
“What?” Precious responded, taken aback. “But it’s your birthday!

What kind of mee ng could be that important?”
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Gateway To Heaven
“It’s a Chinese oil deal. My dad’s been working on it for months, and I
have to be the one to close it.”
Precious sighed, clearly disappointed. “I don’t get you rich people. It’s
your birthday, Gbenga. Why are you working?”
Gbenga chuckled. “That’s how we stay rich, darling.”
“No,” Precious said, her tone so ening but s ll firm. “If you’re that
rich, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy it once in a while?”
He smiled at her pragma sm. “I hear you, and I’ll try to take that
advice more o en. But for today, I really need to get this done. I’ll be
there as soon as I can. Promise.”
“Fine. But I’m not coming to the party un l you’re almost there. I don’t
want to be standing around alone.”
“No, no,” Gbenga insisted. “There might be traffic, and I don’t want
you rushing. I want you to enjoy every bit of it. Adewumi will meet you
when you arrive. She’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
Precious hesitated, then finally relented. “Okay, but only because you
asked nicely.”
223
“Thank you,” he said, relieved. “Trust me, you’re going to love it. What
are you wearing, by the way?”
“I’m not telling you. You’ll have to see for yourself,” she teased.
“Come on,” he laughed. “Give me something. I need to tell Adewumi

what to look out for.”
A er a beat, Precious playfully gave in. “Alright, I’m wearing a blue

dress. Your favourite colour.”
Gbenga’s heart skipped a beat. “A woman in blue... You’re going to kill

me tonight, aren’t you?”
Precious laughed again. “We’ll see.”
“I love you, Precious,” he said sincerely.
“I love you too,” she replied so ly.
A er ending the call, he dialled Adewumi. “Hey,” Adewumi greeted

him cheerfully. “What’s up?”
“I need a favour,” he said, ge ng straight to the point.
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Gateway To Heaven
“What do you need?” she asked, intrigued.
“When Precious arrives, I want you to take good care of her. Make sure
she’s comfortable, treat her like the queen she is, okay? She’s wearing
a blue dress.”
“Blue, huh? You’re in trouble,” Adewumi teased. “She’s going to steal

the show.”
“Exactly,” Gbenga laughed. “Make sure she has the best seat. And call
her to check in before she arrives. I’ll send you her number, and I’ll
send her yours.”
“You’ve got it, bro. But this is going to cost you.”
“The Rolex isn’t enough?” he asked with a smirk.
“I’m joking,” she replied with a chuckle. “I’ll take care of her. Don’t be
too late.”
“Thanks, sis. You’re the best.” A er ending the call, he sent Precious’s
number to Adewumi and vice versa then dialled his assistant. “Hey! I
need you to work on something.”
“Hey boss, I thought today was your birthday?” his assistant greeted.
225
“I thought so too,” Gbenga replied dryly. “Listen, I need you to do

some more research on a Chinese oil magnate. You will get details
shortly to help your research. I want every detail before I walk into that
mee ng.”
“I’m on it,” the assistant replied. “I’ll send you the full brief within the
hour.”
“Thanks,” Gbenga said before hanging up. As he walked toward the

door, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing Precious in
that blue dress later tonight.
The Eko Conven on Centre was transformed into a dazzling spectacle,

the air thick with excitement as vibrant performances lit up the stage.
Laughter and cha er filled the room, blending with the sounds of
music. The space gli ered with opulence, a gathering of the one
percent of the one percent in Nigeria, each guest dressed in their
finest, crea ng a scene that was both elegant and electric.
Adewumi, caught up in the fes ve mood, checked her wristwatch and

gasped so ly. Time had flown by. She had been hanging around with
Aun e Mildred and her mother longer than she intended.
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Gateway To Heaven
“Oh no,” she mu ered, excusing herself from the conversa on. “I
need to go and meet Gbenga’s girl.” As she reached for her phone
inside her small designer purse, a wave of realisa on hit her. “Where’s
my phone?” She frowned, mentally retracing her steps. It must s ll be
in the car. “Oh God,” she whispered, slightly panicked. “How is she
going to reach me now?”
Adewumi scanned the room quickly for the driver, but he was
nowhere to be found. She was just about to step out to retrieve her
phone when her gaze was drawn to a figure entering the hall, a woman
in a breathtaking blue dress. The woman was striking, every detail of
her a re perfectly polished. It took Adewumi a second to realise who
it was.
“There she is,” Adewumi breathed in admira on as she moved swi ly

toward the woman. “Good a ernoon,” she greeted warmly, her smile
wide and genuine. “I’m Adewumi Ayo-Douglas.”
The woman, who had been looking around the room, turned and
smiled back, clearly impressed. “Oh wow,” she said, recognising
Adewumi. “I’ve read so much about you in magazines. You’re quite the
socialite.”
Adewumi chuckled modestly. “I try,” she said with a wink. Then, l ng

her head slightly, she asked, “Are you Gbenga’s guest?”
227
The woman nodded with a smile. “Yes, I’m his guest. My name is
Agnes.”
“Oh my God, you’re beau ful. No wonder he calls you Precious!”

Adewumi gushed. “Wow, my brother has good taste. He’s been going
on and on about you. He told me it only took one mee ng, and he
knew.”
Agnes blinked in surprise. “Really? He said that?”
Adewumi grinned and nodded, linking arms with Agnes as she began
leading her toward the front, looking for a perfect seat. “Yes, really! He
said he knew from the first moment he saw you that you were the one.
For him, it was love at first sight.”
Agnes thought back to that first mee ng, replaying the memory in her
mind. She remembered Aun e Mildred’s advice and how the
conversa on had flowed. Could it really have been that simple? “I’m...
I’m amazed,” she said so ly. “I didn’t realise... I guess some men really
are drawn to that kind of thing.”
Adewumi laughed lightly. “Oh, trust me, he’s drawn to you for sure. He
said so many wonderful things about you, Agnes. I’ve never seen him
like this before.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Agnes blushed a li le, clearly fla ered. “He really said all that?”
“More than you know,” Adewumi said, guiding her toward a seat,
away from the older rela ves and closer to the ac on. “My brother
doesn’t fall in love easily, not even before he became super serious
about his faith. And none of the women he dated ever made him act
like this. But you, you’ve got him twisted in all the right ways.”
Agnes let out a small laugh, s ll a bit nervous but star ng to relax. “I
was actually nervous about coming tonight,” she admi ed. “A part of
me wondered if this was really how I wanted things to go, you know?
But hearing you talk about him... it’s comfor ng.”
“Don’t doubt it,” Adewumi said, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.
“You’ve made quite the impression. My family? We love whatever
Gbenga loves. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
Agnes sighed in relief. “Thank you. I was worried about that.”
She grinned. “You’re smart, you’re well-spoken, and, girl, this dress?
Wow. You have to give me your designer’s number.”
Agnes laughed. “You got it. I’ll send it to you.”
“Unfortunately,” Adewumi added, “I le my phone in the car, but I’ll
229
definitely get your number later. And don’t worry, you’re not leaving
my side tonight. We’re going to have a blast.”
Agnes smiled, feeling more at ease. “I’m excited now.”
“And you should be,” she said as they se led in, her voice lowering
conspiratorially. “Trust me, tonight is just the beginning.”
Omolara had been standing near the main entrance, surveying the
lavishly decorated hall, when Aun e Mildred suddenly appeared
beside her. Without a word, Mildred gently but firmly looped her arm
through Omolara's and led her away from the bustling party. Sensing
the importance of whatever conversa on was about to take place, she
followed without resistance. They moved through the opulent crowd,
their heels clicking so ly on the polished floor as they walked. As soon
as they reached a quieter corner of the room, Aun e Mildred turned
to her, her expression sharp and calcula ng.
"You’ve been a great help, Omolara," she began, her voice low and
measured, though nged with sa sfac on. "The informa on you
provided about Precious, how she’s different from the women
Gbenga is usually drawn to, was invaluable. It’s exactly what I needed
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Gateway To Heaven
to posi on Agnes perfectly.”
Omolara nodded, knowing exactly where this was headed. "I knew
she had no chance in that arena. Agnes, on the other hand..." She
trailed off, glancing around the room as if to make sure no one was
listening.
Mildred's lips curled into a small, sa sfied smile. "Agnes is sharp. The
way she handled their first conversa on, talking about the economy,
policies, and how the naira float impacts the treasury sector—Gbenga
couldn’t look away. It was like I knew exactly what bu ons to press.”
Omolara raised an eyebrow. "And he took the bait?”
Mildred chuckled so ly. "Oh, he did. I could see it in his eyes. That’s
the thing about Gbenga—he's aroused by intellect, by a woman who
can hold her own in a conversa on about things that ma er to him.
Agnes knows exactly how to play that card.”
"She must have really nailed it," Omolara agreed. "Her intellect is
what sets her apart from someone like Precious, who, frankly, doesn’t
have the kind of sophis ca on that resonates with Gbenga.”
Mildred gave a knowing nod. "Precisely. That’s why I’m making sure
Agnes gets every opportunity to keep impressing him.”
231
Omolara let out a slow breath, watching Agnes from across the room
as she cha ed effortlessly with a small group of guests. "It’s not just
that she’s more fi ng for his lifestyle, she knows how to play the long
game, and that’s what will win Gbenga over.”
Mildred's gaze followed Omolara’s eyes. "Yes, and once we get rid of
this 'Precious' nuisance, things will fall into place naturally. But for
now, we keep pushing her aside—discreetly, of course.”
Omolara leaned in, lowering her voice. "By the way, I got word that
Precious just arrived with a guest. She’s having some trouble at the
entrance, and naturally, I should step in. But based on what you said,
and since Gbenga is nowhere to be seen, I thought I’d let the situa on
drag out a bit.”
Mildred gave a sly smile. "Good call. Let her feel the weight of not
fi ng in. But remember, don’t push too hard. We can’t have Gbenga
rushing to her rescue. We both know how he gets. If he thinks she’s in
trouble, it might trigger his protec ve ins ncts.”
Omolara nodded in agreement. "I’ll make sure the security team

eases up just enough. I don’t want her feeling too comfortable, but I
won’t cause a scene that’ll draw unnecessary a en on.”
Aun e Mildred touched her arm lightly. "Perfect. Let her through, but
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Gateway To Heaven
not without some resistance. Just enough to make her ques on

whether she belongs here.”
Omolara's lips twitched into a smirk. "Leave it to me.”
With that, Mildred gave one final approving nod before slipping back
into the crowd, her work for the night far from over.
Omolara watched her go, thinking about the delicate balance she had
to maintain. On one hand, Mildred was right, Agnes was clearly a
be er fit for Gbenga's world. But on the other hand, she had her own
reserva ons. Was pushing Precious out truly the right move? Or was
she, like Gbenga, about to be drawn into a game much bigger than
herself?
Either way, it was a game she would have to play carefully.
Tonight was unravelling in ways Precious hadn’t expected. Standing at

the entrance of the luxurious Eko Conven on Centre, she fought the
rising de of frustra on. Her sister stood beside her, trying to offer
comfort, but even she was ge ng agitated. The driver sent by Gbenga
to escort them was pleading with the security personnel, explaining
the importance of allowing Precious and her sister in.
233
“Please, this is a very important guest,” he urged, his voice ght with
irrita on. “You don’t want trouble over this. Let them in.”
But the security guard, unyielding in his stance, shook his head. “I’m
just doing my job. The lady in blue can enter,” he nodded towards
Precious, “but her guest isn’t on the list, and she doesn’t have an ID.
I’m afraid she can’t come in.”
Precious’s pa ence was wearing thin. “Let’s just go back,” she

mu ered to her sister. The humilia on of standing outside like an
uninvited guest at Gbenga’s big birthday bash was s nging her pride.
Hannah, however, wasn’t giving up. “No way, we’re not leaving. A er
all we went through to get ready for this party? You’re his girlfriend.
We’re not going anywhere.”
Just as the tension between the security and the driver was peaking, a
familiar voice cut through the air. “Oh my God, what’s going on here?”
It was Omolara, looking as poised as ever as she hurried over, her eyes
widening when she saw Precious. “Precious! Oh no, security, please
let them both in. This is Gbenga’s guest, for heaven's sake!”
The driver shot the security guard a knowing look, murmuring, “Didn’t
I tell you?”
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Gateway To Heaven
The guard seemed flustered but maintained his composure.

“Apologies, ma’am, but we were just following protocol.”
Precious sighed with relief as Omolara flashed her a warm smile. “I’m
so happy to see you. You look stunning in that dress! Did you go with
the personal shopper?”
Precious shook her head, s ll feeling the awkwardness of the

situa on. “No, I got this one on my own.”
Omolara looked her up and down approvingly. “Your taste is really

good. It’s simple, classy, and not over the top. Perfect for tonight.”
“Thanks,” Precious replied, smiling faintly. “Do you know if Gbenga is

here? I haven’t seen him.”
“We’re all wai ng for him. He’s running late,” Omolara said, glancing
around. “But I’m sure he’ll join us soon. You should’ve called me if you
were having trouble at the entrance.”
Precious’s expression fell. “My phone’s dead. My sister’s been taking

so many pictures and videos that my ba ery just died. I didn’t even
think to bring a power bank.”
Omolara shook her head in sympathy. “That’s a shame, but don’t
235
worry, I’ve got you. Come on, let’s get you seated somewhere nice.”
Leading them to a table close to the front, she arranged for Precious
and her sister to have prime seats. The tension started to fade as they
se led in, surrounded by the glamour of the evening.
“Thank you so much,” Precious said, her tone genuinely grateful.
“Any me,” Omolara responded with a warm smile, placing a

reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’re my girl now.”
Precious’s sister nudged her playfully. “See? You were ready to leave,
but look at us now. You’ve got the best seat in the house. You can’t give
up so easily.”
Precious, s ll feeling a bit unse led, let out a small laugh. “That was
embarrassing, though.”
“Forget about it,” Hannah said, wide-eyed as she scanned the room.
“Look at this party! Wow, celebri es everywhere. This place is packed
with Nigeria’s finest.”
Precious nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere. “I just wish I

could reach Gbenga. This whole thing feels so strange without him
here. I’m uncomfortable.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Sensing Precious’s unease, Hannah waved it off. “Relax. Gbenga Isn't

going to miss his own birthday. He’ll be here soon. Just enjoy the night.
You look gorgeous, and trust me, he’s going to be blown away when he
sees you.”
“I wish my phone wasn’t dead,” Precious mu ered. “I would’ve called

his sister or something.”
“Well, I have his number,” her sister piped in. “Do you want me to call
him?”
Precious’s eyes brightened. “Yes, please! Let’s see if he’ll pick up.” Her
sister dialled Gbenga’s number, and they waited as the phone rang. No
answer. “He’s probably s ll in that mee ng, Maybe it’s best to leave it.
He’ll be here soon enough.”
Hannah nodded, offering a comfor ng smile. “Exactly. He’ll be here

before you know it. Un l then, let’s take in this amazing party. It’s all
for him, a er all.”
With that, Precious took a deep breath and tried to relax. As the music
swelled around them, and the energy of the room pulsated with life,
she forced herself to focus on the celebra on. Whatever
awkwardness had occurred earlier would fade as soon as Gbenga
walked through those doors. Un l then, all she could do was enjoy the
237
night.
The evening was supposed to be perfect.
Gbenga strode into the Eko Conven on Centre looking every bit the
man of the moment. His black velvet tuxedo hugged his broad
shoulders perfectly, his cufflinks gleamed in the low light, and his
polished shoes clicked against the floor with a quiet authority. He
looked impeccable—powerful, wealthy, untouchable.
But inside, he was a mess.
His phone had been buzzing non-stop. He’d been trying to reach
Precious for hours, but her phone was dead. Not being able to reach
her had gnawed at him all day even though Adewumi had reassured
him that everything was fine. S ll, the unease lingered.
As he moved toward his seat, his brother Yemoli’s voice boomed

through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen! The man of the hour,
the birthday boy, Gbenga Ayo-Douglas, is finally in the house!”
The crowd erupted in applause, turning their a en on to the

entrance. Gbenga plastered a smile on his face, nodding in
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Gateway To Heaven
acknowledgment, though the anxiety s ll churned in his gut.
Yemoli wasn’t finished. “Now, tonight is special. Not just because

we’re celebra ng my brother, but because the most eligible bachelor
in town—a er me, of course—has finally found the love of his life.
And it would be my honour to be the first person to dance with her
tonight! Sorry, bro, but I have dibs on the first dance!”
Gbenga’s heart skipped a beat. This was it—the perfect moment he’d
planned for weeks. A er Yemoli’s introduc on, he’d propose to
Precious on stage, with his brother serenading them. It was going to
be magical. But as Gbenga scanned the room for Precious, his eyes
landed on a woman in a striking blue dress. She was being led toward
the stage, and for a moment, his breath caught. It was the dress, the
blue dress he loved, the one Precious had promised she’d wear. But as
the woman stepped into the spotlight, something wasn’t right. The
way she walked so confidently, too confidently, was wrong, too wrong.
Then, the light fully illuminated her face.
It was not Precious.
His heart plummeted. The woman in blue was Agnes.
Before he could react, Yemoli had already taken Agnes’s hand and
twirled her on stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, the love of my brother’s
239
life!”
The crowd cheered louder, none of them aware of the disaster that
was unfolding. Gbenga froze in his spot. What was happening? This
was supposed to be their moment—his and Precious’s. His eyes
darted fran cally across the room, searching for her. Where is she?
The anxiety he’d been holding in all evening now erupted into panic.
His eyes finally locked onto a figure standing up from one of the VVIP
tables. It was Precious, with her sister at her side, both of them
star ng to walk toward the exit. Her face was a mixture of confusion
and hurt.
Oh God, no! No, no, no.
Without thinking, Gbenga pushed through the crowd, weaving

between guests, his en re focus on reaching Precious before she
walked out of his life. Meanwhile, Adewumi stood by the stage, her
heart hammering in her chest. Something was wrong. Gbenga wasn’t
moving the way he was supposed to. His face looked distressed. Then,
like a slow-mo on train wreck, Adewumi saw it—another woman in a
blue dress. And she realised. Oh my God. Her stomach dropped. I got
the wrong girl.
Agnes stepped down from the stage a er enjoying Yemoli’s quick twirl
before he started performing. She was smiling when she no ced
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Gateway To Heaven
Adewumi’s stricken look. “Is everything okay?” she asked in concern.

Adewumi could barely speak. "I—I think there’s been a mix-up."
The music s ll played, the crowd s ll laughed, and Yemoli was

performing on stage like everything was normal, but Gbenga’s world
was imploding. Just as Precious reached the door, he caught up with
her and grabbed her arm gently, his voice breathless.,
“Precious, wait. Please.”
She turned, and the look in her eyes pierced straight through
him—hurt, confusion, disbelief. "What is going on, Gbenga? Who is
that woman?”
“It’s a mistake,” he said, his voice thick with despera on. “A huge
mistake. You’re the one I want, Precious. It’s you—only you.”
Her lips trembled. "But I saw her, Gbenga. I saw her on stage. Why is
she there?”
“I don’t know! It wasn’t supposed to happen. I swear, Precious. You

were always the one.” He paused, searching for words, and in that
silence, she turned toward the door.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “This whole night…
241
I don’t belong here.”
Gbenga reached for her again, his heart hammering. "Please, don’t
leave. Let me fix this. I’ll make it right.”
But her tears spoke more than words. She shook her head, pulling
away, her sister nudging her gently. Without another glance, she
turned and walked out into the night. Gbenga stood frozen, his mind
spinning, while back inside, Adewumi was s ll reeling.
She turned to Agnes, her voice fran c. "You’re not—You’re not

actually the girl, are you?”
Agnes shrugged. "I never claimed to be. You asked if I was Gbenga’s
guest, and I said yes. I didn’t expect all this." She gestured vaguely
toward the stage.
Adewumi’s face was drained of colour. "I messed up. Oh my God, I

messed up so badly.”
In the midst of it all, the crowd remained oblivious, Yemoli was s ll

performing, the MC hyping the audience as if nothing had gone
wrong, the music thumped, the lights flashed, and the laughter
con nued, while chaos swirled just beneath the surface.
242
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gbenga stepped out of the hall, moving quickly to catch up with

Precious. His heart raced as he spo ed her and her sister walking
briskly toward the exit.
"Hey, babe!" he called out, catching his breath. Precious turned, her
face a mix of hurt and anger. She had expected Gbenga to let her go,
but he had chased a er her again. "I don’t know what just happened
in there, but that was a mistake. My sister must have mistaken
someone else for you. That’s the only explana on. And I couldn’t
reach you on the phone to fix it." He glanced at Hannah. "Hi, Hannah.
How are you?”
Hannah gave a small nod. "I’m fine.”
"My phone died," Precious replied quietly, s ll upset.
“Then that’s why there’s a mix up,” Gbenga said, hoping she would
accept this and they could move on.
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Gateway To Heaven
Precious sighed, shaking her head. "I don’t even know how to feel
right now.”
Gbenga gently placed a hand on her arm. "Look, we have two op ons
here. We can let this become something huge, something that makes
us both feel horrible, or we can fix it right now. Let’s go back into the
hall together.”
Precious looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "Someone else
was introduced as the love of your life on stage, Gbenga. How do I walk
back in there? I don’t want to seem like I’m taking someone’s place.”
Hannah jumped in before he could respond. "Sorry to interrupt, but

he’s right. Leaving now would just confuse people even more. If you go
back in and correct this mistake together, everyone will understand.”
Gbenga squeezed Precious's hand. "Exactly. Let’s go make it right,

together." For a moment, everything was silent between them. Then
he pulled her into a hug, holding her close. "I’m so sorry this
happened," he whispered. "But all I want is for everyone to know
you're mine. I love you.”
Precious pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Okay," she said
so ly. "I’ll come with you.”
244
A smile spread across his face. "That’s my girl." He stepped back to

take her in, admiring her dress. "By the way, you look beau ful in that
dress.”
Precious tried to smile. "Well, that other lady looked nice in her blue
dress too.”
Gbenga chuckled. "It’s not about the dress, babe. It’s about the
woman in it. You could be wearing those Crocs and the hoodie you had
on when I first met you, and you’d s ll be the most beau ful woman in
the room to me." Hannah cleared her throat, and Precious gave a
small laugh, relaxing a bit. "Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand.
Precious nodded. “Yes.”
Just as they turned to walk back inside, Omolara appeared, concern

etched across her face. "I hope everything’s okay? I heard about the
mix-up—”
Gbenga cut her off gently but firmly. "There’s no problem. We’re going
to fix this." He smiled at Precious, then turned to Omolara. "Can you
get my brother? Tell him it’s me to sing another song.”
Precious looked puzzled. "Another song? But he already sang.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Gbenga grinned. "Well, he’s going to sing again. This me, it’ll be our
song, because tonight, babe, I’m ge ng up on that stage, and I’m
asking you to marry me. I want the whole world to see it. A er tonight,
no one will ever be confused again. They’ll know you’re mine. What
will your answer be?”
Precious’s eyes widened in shock, but a smile quickly spread across

her face. “Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Gbenga, I will marry you.”
Gbenga’s grin grew wider. "Now that’s the a tude I want!" He planted
a so kiss on her forehead. "Let’s go tell the world.”
As they walked back into the hall, hand in hand, Omolara stood frozen,
her mouth slightly open, processing what she had just witnessed. The
shock on her face was unmistakable.
Hannah turned to her with a smirk. "Didn’t he tell you to go get his
brother?”
Omolara snapped back to reality, blinking. "Oh—yes, yes, I’m on it!"

She rushed off to find Yemoli, while Gbenga and Precious prepared to
make the moment truly unforge able.
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The room buzzed with an cipa on as Gbenga took Precious’s hand

and led her toward the stage. The MC, sensing the gravity of the
moment, handed him the microphone with a knowing smile.
“Good evening, everyone,” His voice carried across the hall,

commanding everyone’s a en on. “I’m sorry for the confusion
earlier, but I need to set things right. Please, allow me to introduce the
woman who has changed my life forever—the love of my life, Precious
Adeleke.”
A wave of gasps and cheers rippled through the room as fireworks lit
up the hall. Precious stood beside Gbenga, visibly moved by the
moment, her heart racing as she gazed up at him.
Gbenga's tone so ened, focusing solely on her. “Before you, my world

was work—building businesses, understanding economies, crea ng
systems. But when you came into my life, I realised there was more to
life than just ambi on and success.” The crowd s lled, hanging on to
his every word as he knelt down on one knee, pulling out a stunning
diamond ring. “Precious, I fell in love with you faster than I ever
imagined, and now I want to marry you just as quickly. Will you marry
me?”
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Precious, overcome with emo on, nodded as tears filled her eyes.
“Yes, Gbenga, I will.”
The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound of clapping
hands and excited shouts filling the space. Yemoli, seizing the
moment, began to sing his hit love song, his voice weaving a melody of
romance and joy that had the en re crowd cap vated.
As Yemoli’s love song ended, he transi oned into a birthday song for
Gbenga. The crowd’s excitement reignited as they sang along,
clapping in rhythm. Gbenga turned to Precious, pulling her into a
warm embrace.
“You’re the best birthday gi I could ever ask for,” he whispered in her
ear, his voice thick with emo on.
Outside the lavish event hall, Aun e Mildred and Agnes walked in
silence, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warm atmosphere
they’d just le behind.
Agnes spoke first, her tone measured but firm. “You have to admit,
that was a beau ful proposal. Gbenga knew exactly what he wanted,
and he didn’t hold back.”
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Aun e Mildred’s jaw ghtened, frustra on etched into her face. “I

don’t understand why it didn’t work. You were the perfect choice. Our
plan was solid—how could it fall apart like this? It doesn’t make
sense.”
Agnes sighed, shaking her head. “It’s clear he loves her, Aun e. I don’t
think there’s anything more to it. I don’t want to be part of this
anymore. I’m not going to force myself into a situa on where I’m not
wanted.”
Mildred stopped in her tracks, eyes sharp with disbelief. “So you’re
giving up just like that? A er everything we’ve worked for?”
Agnes turned to her, her expression resolute. “This isn’t about giving
up. It’s about accep ng that he’s happy with her. That’s what ma ers.
He’s made his choice.”
Aun e Mildred stared at Agnes for a moment before her frustra on

bubbled over. “I can’t believe I’ve lost this ba le. I can’t stand by and
let him throw his future away with a girl like her.”
“It’s not throwing his life away if he’s happy. Maybe it’s me to let this
go,” Agnes said, placing a gentle hand on her arm, her voice so .
Mildred scowled, mu ering under her breath. “I don’t know how to
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let it go. I need to talk to my husband.”
Agnes nodded and sighed, knowing there was nothing more to say.
She watched Aun e Mildred walk away, the tension s ll hanging in the
air.
The music s ll thumped inside the hall, but Gbenga was ready to step
away from the crowd. Hand in hand with Precious, he led her to the
quiet sanctuary of his hotel suite. As soon as the door clicked shut
behind them, he pulled her into his arms, holding her ght.
“I love you,” he whispered against her hair. “And I’m so sorry for
everything that happened tonight. That mix-up was the last thing I
wanted.”
Precious smiled into his chest. “It’s okay. I loved every minute of it.
Your family clearly adores you, and Yemoli… Wow, that man can sing!”
Gbenga chuckled, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Thank you for
saying yes. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”
Precious laughed so ly, shaking her head. “There was never a

ques on, Gbenga. I’d say yes a thousand mes over.”
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Unable to resist, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. His
hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss
deepened. Precious, though caught up in the moment, gently pushed
against his chest, her breath coming out in shallow bursts.
“I don’t think we should stay here,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“It’s not a good idea. And no kissing ll we get married. Let’s not tempt
ourselves.”
Gbenga groaned, pulling back reluctantly. “You’re right. I just lose my

mind when I’m around you.”
They moved to the living area, si ng side by side on the couch. A er a

few moments of silence, Precious spoke up, her voice nged with
uncertainty. “Can we talk about… that girl, Agnes? I don’t know, I just
can’t shake this feeling that something happened. Why was she
there?”
Gbenga sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Agnes was one of Aun e
Mildred’s guests, and I guess Adewumi assumed she was you because
she was also wearing a blue dress. You’re the one I want, Precious.”
Precious glanced down at her lap, hesita ng. “But what if your family
doesn’t accept me? I felt something off with your mum. She greeted
me, but… I don’t know. I saw a look.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Gbenga took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ll make it clear to them
that you’re the one I’ve chosen. They’ll come around. I promise.”
Precious nodded, s ll unsure, but grateful for his reassurances. She let
out a long breath, finally star ng to relax.
As they walked back toward the event hall to find Hannah, Aun e
Mildred intercepted them, her face stern. Precious excused herself
while Gbenga stayed with his Aun e.
“Congratula ons,” she said, her voice s ff. “And thank you for allowing
me to help with the party.”
Gbenga nodded, sensing the tension in her words. “Thank you,

Aun e. I appreciate everything you did.”
Mildred didn’t smile. “I’m not happy, you know. You’ve just thrown
this girl on us. We all had someone be er in mind for you. I don’t
understand why you didn’t consider Agnes—she could have been
perfect for you.”
Gbenga’s expression hardened, his tone firm. “Aun e, I love Precious,

and I need you and everyone else to accept that.”
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Mildred opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say
anything more, Precious and Hannah returned.
“We need to go, Aun e,” Gbenga said, his voice calm but determined.
“But please, don’t forget what I said. I mean every word.”
Aun e Mildred stood there, watching Gbenga and Precious leave,

their hands entangled. She felt a mixture of frustra on and
resigna on with the realisa on that her nephew’s mind was made up,
and there was nothing she could do to change it. Yet, she didn’t want
to give up.
As Gbenga and Precious reached the parking area, Hannah in tow,

Adewumi rushed up to them, out of breath.
“Precious! I’m so sorry for almost ruining your night. I’ve been trying
to get you alone to apologise but you and Gbenga disappeared and…”
Precious smiled, shaking her head in dismissal as she interrupted her

gently. “It’s fine, Adewumi. It was an honest mistake. Really, no harm
done.”
Adewumi grinned and pulled her into a ght hug. “Now you’re my
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Gateway To Heaven
sister! I’ve always wanted a sister, and now I have one.”
“Her real sister is here,” Hannah chimed, waving at Adewumi.
Precious gave her a scolding look, while Gbenga smiled in amusement

as Adewumi spared her a glance, a smile on her lips. “There’s love in
sharing.”
“I guess so, since I get to share your brother too,” she said lightly and
they all laughed.
Precious shook her head at her sister, smiling fondly as she addressed
Adewumi. “Just ignore her.”
“I don’t mind sharing,” Adewumi said, s ll holding Precious’s hands.

“Can we catch up tomorrow? I’d love to spend the day with you, get to
know you be er.”
Gbenga chuckled from behind them. “Actually, I hate to disappoint

you, but she’s spending tomorrow with me.”
Precious grinned at both of them. “Well, I’m actually going to work

tomorrow.”
Adewumi laughed. “We’ll work something out. But I’m not le ng you
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get away from me.”
As they all walked toward the car, the tension from the evening melted
away. Whatever challenges lay ahead, Gbenga and Precious were
ready to face them together.
255
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Four weeks later

Gbenga stood in front of the mirror, adjus ng his e, his heart racing
for reasons beyond the chaos swirling around him. Grabbing his
phone, he quickly typed a message to Precious:
Babe, I cannot wait to marry you. This feels very surreal. I love you.
He paused, smiling to himself as he imagined her busy with makeup

and ge ng ready. She didn’t reply, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew
she was probably caught up in the final touches, and the thought of
seeing her walk down the aisle made him even more excited. She’s
about to be my wife, he thought, his heart swelling with affec on.
Despite everything, his family, his job, the pressures of life, Precious
was fast becoming his anchor, the one person who made it all
worthwhile, her quiet presence grounding him. He could hardly
believe it was all happening today. If only he could focus on just that,
but he couldn’t. He opened his laptop and quickly checked his mail to
approve a request from his ad-hoc commi ee for the China oil deal.
He was due for his first mee ng in Beijing next tomorrow. His thoughts
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were interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open. Yemoli

strolled in with his usual swagger; dressed sharply, looking every bit
like the Afrobeat superstar he was, except today he wore a suit to
perform his best man du es.
He grinned at Gbenga. “Tell me you’re not going to walk into that

church and spit out a business plan instead of your vows,” he teased,
leaning against the doorframe, his grin widening.
Gbenga chuckled, shaking his head. “As long as I don’t get another
work email five minutes before the ceremony, I should be good.”
Yemoli laughed, stepping further into the room. “You’ve got Dad’s oil
deal on one hand, Pinnacle Bank on the other, and a wedding in
between. Man, you’re a madman.”
Gbenga shrugged, adjus ng his cufflinks. “Dad’s deal with the Chinese
is a big one. If I can pull it off, I’ll keep things balanced between the
family business and the bank. Precious understands.”
Yemoli’s expression so ened. “She’s uproo ng her life for you. Make
sure it’s worth it.”
Gbenga glanced at his phone again. S ll no reply from her, but he

smiled anyway. “She gets it. We’re in this together, and once I get back
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Gateway To Heaven
from China, we’ll head to Ethiopia and start our life there.”
Before Yemoli could respond, Adewumi walked in, holding a sleek pair
of black shoes. “Your wedding gi as promised,” she announced with a
grin, handing him the shoes. “I told you I’d handle it, and here they are,
custom-made just for you.”
Gbenga smiled gratefully, slipping into the shoes. “Thanks, Ade.

You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Of course I have,” she said, laughing. “This is your wedding day, a er
all.”
Just then, Felix, Gbenga’s PA, entered the room, looking at his tablet.
“Sir, the private jet is ready for your trip in case they move things
forward.” he said, scrolling through the schedule.
Gbenga rolled his eyes “They dare not move anything forward. Is
everything confirmed?” he asked, slipping on the shoes.
“Yes, sir. The Chinese team is expec ng you two days a er the
wedding. Should I book a honeymoon a er the mee ngs?”
He shook his head. “No, A er China, I’ll come back to Nigeria, pick up
Precious, and then we’ll head to Ethiopia. Honeymoon can wait ll we
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are se led.”
Felix nodded. “Understood, sir. Everything else is set.”
Yemoli let out a low whistle. “No honeymoon yet? You’ve got guts, big
brother.”
Gbenga chuckled, straightening his suit one last me. “This deal is
important, Yemoli. We’ll have our me later. Precious knows what
we’re building here.”
Yemoli raised an eyebrow, watching his brother closely. “Just make

sure you don’t let business take over the marriage, man.”
Gbenga met Yemoli’s eyes and nodded. The gravity of his brother’s
words hung in the air for a moment, a reminder that this wasn’t just
another business deal—this was his life with the woman he loved.
“Adewumi, how’s Precious? Everything alright on her end?” he asked,

shi ing the tone.
Adewumi smiled. “She’s calm as always. You know her—cool,

collected, and ready for the big moment.”
Gbenga’s heart warmed. “Good. I can’t wait to see her.”
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Gateway To Heaven
As the minutes cked by, the reality of his wedding day se led in.
Work could wait. For now, it was me to focus on Precious, the woman
who had changed everything.
Precious took a deep breath as she stepped out of the sleek white
Rolls Royce, her fingers gripping her sister’s arm while her best friend,
Jumoke, fussed over her dress. The sunlight reflected off the stones
embedded in her veil, cas ng ny shimmering pa erns on the ground
as she emerged.
“Girl, you are glowing!” her sister whispered, eyes wide with
admira on.
“Gbenga is going to fall over when he sees you,” Jumoke added with a
playful grin.
Precious smiled, grateful to have her sister and best friend with her.
Jumoke had flown in from Portharcourt two days ago to help her
prepare since she now lived there with her husband. In the whirlwind
of her romance with Gbenga, she had kept Jumoke in the loop,
some mes asking her ques ons she couldn’t ask Hannah. Now that
the day was here, it was only natural that it would be the two of them
beside her. She had wanted something small, in mate—a simple
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wedding that spoke to her and Gbenga’s love, but marrying into the
Ayo-Douglas family came with expecta ons. She could s ll hear
Gbenga’s mother’s disapproval ringing in her ears when the idea of a
modest ceremony was men oned.
“Why would you marry into a family like ours and think of a small
wedding?”
Precious shook the memory away as she glanced at the grand church
ahead of her. It’s okay, she reminded herself. The wedding had been
planned fast enough—barely one week a er Gbenga proposed—and
that had allowed her some say in the ceremony’s size. S ll, she
couldn’t shake the feeling that her mother-in-law didn’t quite like her.
Her heart pounded harder as she approached the doors, her sister and
Jumoke s ll adjus ng her gown. But as the church came into view and
the scent of fresh flowers filled her senses, a calm washed over her.
This was it, her wedding day.
Her father met her at the entrance, his proud eyes twinkling as he
offered his arm. “Ready, my girl?”
Precious nodded, threading her arm through his. “Ready, Daddy.”
As they began the walk down the aisle, the so sounds of the organ
filled the air, with the hymn To God Be The Glory, Great Things He Hath
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Gateway To Heaven
Done, and all her worries began to fade. She focused on Gbenga at the
altar, standing tall, composed, and impossibly handsome. In that
moment, the differences between their worlds no longer ma ered.
She loved him, and he was her future.
As they came to the end of the aisle, her father handed her over to the
pastor, his smile full of pride. Gbenga’s eyes never le hers, and with
that one steady gaze, the noise in her mind fell away. It was just the
two of them, standing on the edge of the rest of their lives. He
squeezed her hand gently as the pastor began the ceremony. His
touch was reassuring, and she was grateful for it. Though the pastor’s
words were familiar, it was Gbenga’s presence that filled her with
warmth. This wasn’t just a wedding; this was the beginning of
something powerful—something she had dreamed of, but now
seemed even more real than she had imagined. The vows passed in a
blur of emo on, each word resona ng deeply in her chest. When it
was Gbenga’s turn, his voice was deep and filled with convic on.
"I, Gbenga Ayo-Douglas, take you, Precious, to be my wife, my partner,

my love, and my equal. I promise to stand by your side through every
storm and every joy, to love you as God loves us, and to build a future
together, with faith and hope.”
The sincerity in his voice brought tears to Precious’s eyes, but she held
them back, not wan ng to cry in front of the crowd. She took a
262
steadying breath and said her own vows, her voice shaking with
emo on.
I, Precious, take you, Gbenga, to be my husband, my confidant, and my

greatest love. I promise to support you, submit to you, to walk beside
you in all things, and to honour and cherish you all the days of our
lives.”
The words were simple, yet they carried the weight of her
commitment. With each vow, she felt the bond between them
strengthen, knowing that this was the man she would spend the rest
of her life with.
Finally, the pastor smiled and said the words everyone had been
wai ng for: "You may now kiss the bride.”
Gbenga’s eyes twinkled with a mischievous smile as he leaned in

slowly, playfully drawing out the moment. The guests held their
breath, giggling so ly in an cipa on. Precious felt her cheeks flush as
Gbenga hovered, his lips just inches from hers. And then, with the
gentlest touch, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. It was
tender and in mate, a kiss that spoke of promises, love, and the future
they were about to build. For a moment, the world melted away, and
all that ma ered was the warmth of his lips against hers. But Gbenga
wasn’t done. He kissed her again, this me deeper, with the kind of
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Gateway To Heaven
passion that made the crowd erupt into cheers and laughter. The
sound of applause filled the church, and the pastor’s amused chuckle
only heightened the joy in the room. As they turned to face their
guests, now husband and wife, Precious could feel the excitement in
the air.
Yemoli couldn’t help but shout out, “That’s my brother! Show them
how it’s done!”
Adewumi nudged him playfully, giving him a slightly scolding look

before turning back to the latest couple in town and smiling
affec onately at them as the en re congrega on joined in the
celebra on, the air buzzing with happiness and laughter. As they
walked back down the aisle, the path ahead seemed clearer than ever.
This was their beginning, and it was perfect.
The hum of polite laughter and so conversa on s ll lingered in the

air as Gbenga stood near the entrance of the grand ballroom, shaking
hands with yet another high-profile guest. He offered a polite smile
and a few words of gra tude as they bid their farewells. He couldn’t
believe the turnout. Despite the short no ce and rela vely modest
scale of the wedding, the crème de la crème of Nigerian society had
shown up in droves. Dangote had been there, Otedola too, alongside
264
Michael Adenuga and five state governors. The elite had gathered, all
smiles and pleasantries, wishing him and Precious a life me of
happiness. Even Gbenga had been taken aback by the sheer number
of powerful figures who had come to celebrate with them. It was both
humbling and exhaus ng.
He glanced over to where his father was standing, speaking

animatedly with a group of senior execu ves. Gbenga had spent much
of the night being introduced to men whose names carried immense
weight in the oil and finance sectors. S ll, he thought, I should be with
Precious.
Precious had done her best earlier, charming the guests with her grace
and humility as she stood by his side, but he had no ced the fa gue
se ling in. A er a while, she could barely keep her eyes open, and he
had insisted she go and rest. She’d gone quietly, led away by her best
friend, Jumoke, to the room he’d booked at a nearby hotel. The
exhaus on in her eyes had made him feel guilty for staying behind, but
he couldn’t leave just yet. His du es as the groom and the son of an
Ayo-Douglas demanded his presence. Now, though, as the last few
guests filtered out, his mind was solely on her. He was anxious to get to
her, to be with her.
He shook another guest's hand, murmuring a few pleasantries.

“Thank you so much for coming. We appreciate it.”
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“Gbenga,” his father said, walking over with a proud smile. “Good job
today. The wedding was beau ful, and the turnout—well, you did
well, son. Very well.”
Gbenga nodded. “Thanks, Dad. I just wanted something simple, but I

appreciate everyone’s presence.”
His father chuckled. “People like us don’t do simple things. But I’ve
been wondering—what are you s ll doing here?” Gbenga raised an
eyebrow. “Go on, go to your wife. We’ve had our fill of you here,” his
father said, clapping him on the shoulder with a knowing grin.
Gbenga smiled back, grateful for the release. “Alright, Dad. I’ll head
out.”
As he turned to leave, his mother appeared by his side. She looked at

him with a cool, unreadable expression. He paused, wai ng for
whatever cri que she might offer. She had been distant ever since he
proposed to Precious.
“Gbenga,” she said so ly, her tone laced with an unspoken warning. “I
hope you’ve made the right decision.”
He sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Mummy. I love her. Can’t you just
be happy for me?”
266
His mother’s eyes lingered on him for a long moment, her lips pressed
into a thin line. “I hope you’re right,” she said quietly. “For your sake.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer before nodding, accep ng that
it was all she would give him. “It’s going to be alright, Mum,” he said,
his tone firmer than he intended. “Just trust me.”
With that, he turned and le the ballroom, heading out into the cool
night air. The car was wai ng for him, and as soon as he slid into the
back seat, his thoughts returned to Precious. The excitement of the
day had worn him down, but the thought of being with her, just the
two of them alone at last, energised him.
As the car pulled away from the venue, he let out a long breath,
knowing that he was finally heading toward the one person who made
all of the expecta ons, du es, and pressures worth it.
Precious sat on the edge of the bed, her hands res ng on her lap,
fingers fidge ng nervously. The room was dimly lit, cas ng a so glow
that danced off the luxurious drapes and ornate decor. Jumoke knelt
in front of her, carefully wiping away the last traces of makeup with a
warm, damp cloth. Hannah wanted to come with her, but her parents
had refused, insis ng she needed to be alone with her husband and
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Jumoke should follow her to ensure she se led in properly and was
well prepared for her wedding night.
"There, all done," Jumoke said with a smile, standing up and tossing
the cloth into the nearby basket. "You look beau ful, even without all
that makeup. Gbenga is going to fall in love with you all over again.”
Precious let out a nervous laugh. “I hope so,” she mu ered, her heart
s ll racing.
“Hope so? Have you seen yourself? You’re glowing. Today was your
day. I’m s ll in shock over how everything turned out—the wedding,
the guests, everything. You’ve made it, Precious. You’ve really made
it.”
Precious smiled, but her mind wasn’t focused on the grandeur of the
day. “Yeah, it was beau ful. But I just... I can’t stop thinking about
Gbenga’s family. His mum, his aunts, they barely looked at me. I don’t
know, Jummy... I feel like they don’t approve of me, like I don’t
belong.”
Jumoke sighed and sat down next to Precious on the edge of the bed.
“Precious, it’s normal. You’re the new wife. They’re used to their
world, and you’re from a different one. But trust me, you’ll win them
over. Just be yourself, and let them see what Gbenga sees in you.”
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Precious glanced down at her hands. “I’m just worried. What if I never
fit in?”
“You will,” she insisted, her tone firm. “Gbenga loves you. And his
family will come around. Give it me. Besides, today wasn’t about
them. It was about you and Gbenga. And today... Today was amazing.
Look at the people who showed up! Dangote, Otedola, governors!
You’re living the dream.”
Precious smiled, but her nerves were s ll jarred. She couldn’t shake
the feeling of unease. “And now he’s going to China in two days,” she
added quietly. “Our first few days as a married couple, and he’s
already leaving.”
Jumoke stood up, smoothing out her dress. “That’s something you’ll
have to get used to, Precious. Men like Gbenga have busy lives. You’ll
need to be pa ent and understanding. But he loves you, and that’s
what ma ers. He’ll always come back to you.”
Precious nodded. “I know. It’s just happening so fast.”
Jumoke smiled, leaning down to give her a quick hug. “You’ll be fine.
Take it from someone who’s been there. Just be suppor ve, and
everything will fall into place.”
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Gateway To Heaven
“Now, I be er get out of here before Gbenga arrives,” she said as she
grabbed her purse and gave Precious one last look before heading for
the door. “The last thing you need is me hanging around on your
wedding night!”
Precious laughed, some of her nerves dissipa ng. “Thank you, Jummy.
For everything.”
“Any me,” she replied, winking as she stepped out of the room.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Ayo-Douglas.”
As the door clicked shut, Precious let out a long breath. The room felt
quieter now. She knelt beside the bed, closing her eyes as she
whispered a prayer.
“Thank you, God, for today. For this beau ful wedding, for Gbenga, for
everything. Please, give me the strength to be a good wife, and help
me find my place in this new life.”
She lingered in prayer, feeling peace wash over her. But just as she
began to rise, an image flashed through her mind—an Ethiopian
Airlines plane soaring through the clouds. The words Gateway to
Heaven echoed in her heart, leaving her momentarily startled. She sat
back on the bed, sighing deeply as confusion filled her thoughts. She
had shelved the dream of becoming an air hostess, choosing instead
270
to focus on being Gbenga’s wife. But now, the vision was back, tugging
at her heart once more.
How will I combine it all? she wondered, her mind racing with
ques ons she couldn’t yet answer.
She lay back on the bed, her head res ng on the so pillows, the room
dimly lit around her. Slowly, sleep began to take over, but the vision of
the aeroplane stayed with her, like a distant whisper she couldn’t
quite understand.
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The so morning light filtered through the curtains, cas ng a warm

glow across the room. Precious s rred beneath the sheets, her eyes
flu ering open as she blinked away the remnants of sleep. For a
moment, everything felt s ll and quiet, the events of the previous day,
a blissful blur. She stretched gently, careful not to disturb Hannah, her
usual bedroom mate, and then suddenly remembered—it was her
first morning as Mrs. Ayo-Douglas. Her bedmate was Gbenga. A smile
tugged at her lips as she tried to slip quietly out of bed. She needed to
freshen up and make herself presentable, but as soon as she shi ed, a
strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into the
warmth of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gbenga’s voice was so and

playful but s ll thick with sleep.
Precious giggled, trying to wriggle free. “I just need to—”
“You’re not escaping me,” he whispered, gently pinning her down, his
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gaze filled with affec on. “Not today.”
She felt her heart flu er as she looked up at him, his dark eyes full of
love and amusement. For weeks, they had been so careful—choosing
to honour God and each other by keeping their physical boundaries.
Ever since his birthday when they decided to save everything for this
moment, they had barely kissed. It had been difficult, especially with
the strong feelings they shared, but they had both known it was the
right choice. Now, lying here with him, everything felt right.
Gbenga leaned down, his forehead gently pressing against hers as he

murmured, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Do
you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?" His voice was so ,
almost reverent “To finally hold you... I don’t want to rush anything,
but I can’t wait anymore.” He li ed himself slightly, res ng on one
elbow as he gazed down at her.
Precious swallowed, her heart racing. She could feel the love and
adora on in his gaze, as though he was seeing her for the first me.
Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in the so est of
kisses—barely a whisper against her skin, but it sent shivers down her
spine. He kissed her again, slower this me, more deliberately, as
though savouring every second, every breath. Her hands ins nc vely
reached up, res ng on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin
beneath her finger ps. She had wanted this—the closeness, the
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feeling of being in his arms, completely at peace and u erly

cherished. Gbenga’s touch was careful, reverent, as though he were
handling something precious and sacred. She felt her own hands
reach up, holding his face, savouring the moment. They had waited for
this.
“I love you,” Precious whispered, her voice trembling slightly. It wasn’t

just the physical connec on she craved—it was him; his heart, his
soul, his en re being.
“I love you too,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. He brushed his
thumb over her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers. “You are my
everything, Precious.”
The morning stretched on, full of whispered words, gentle laughter,

and so touches. They took their me, savouring each other’s bodies,
knowing that this was more than just the fulfilment of physical
desires, but the culmina on of their commitment and the beginning
of a life me of love. When they finally se led back into the pillows,
Precious curled up against her husband’s chest, feeling more at peace
than she ever had. Her hand rested over his heart, listening to its
steady beat.
“Thank you, God,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she breathed in
the moment.
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Gbenga kissed the top of her head, holding her close. In the s llness of
the morning, they both knew they had entered something sacred,
something that would carry them through every challenge and joy
that lay ahead.
The a ernoon sun filtered through the window, cas ng warm

pa erns on the floor as Gbenga and Precious sat together in the hotel
suite. Gbenga scrolled through his phone, reviewing the i nerary for
the next couple of days before their departure to Ethiopia. They had
just begun to se le into the reality of being husband and wife, and
despite the looming trip to China, there was a comfortable warmth
between them.
Precious smiled, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “So,

what’s the plan for today and tomorrow? Before you fly off to China?”
Gbenga grinned, se ng his phone down and reaching for her hand. “I
figured we could spend today together, maybe explore the city a bit,
have a nice dinner, and tomorrow we order room service and stay in
ll I have to leave.”
Precious nodded, her heart swelling at the thought of more me with

him before he le . “That sounds perfect. And while you’re away, I’ll
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start buying the things I am taking with us to Ethiopia.”
Gbenga smiled so ly. “Don’t stress yourself too much, we’ll dive into
everything together when I am back. No rush.”
Just as Precious opened her mouth to respond, Gbenga’s phone

buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his face quickly
clouding with concern.
“What is it?” Precious asked, sensing the shi in his demeanour.
He sighed deeply as he read through the message. “It’s the team in

China. They need me tomorrow night. To make it, I have to leave
tonight.”
Precious blinked in surprise. “Tonight? But... we thought you had two

more days.”
Gbenga nodded, frustra on etched across his features, his gaze filled
with regret as he looked at her. “I hate this. I really wish you had a visa
so you could come with me.”
Precious’s heart dropped, but she forced a smile, trying to ease the
tension. “It’s okay. We have the rest of our lives together, right? Some
days apart isn’t the end of the world. Go handle your business. We’ll
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be fine.”
Gbenga sighed again, leaning back in his chair. “I know, but I hate
leaving like this. I wanted to spend more me with you before I go.”
She reached across the table, squeezing his hand gently. “It’s fine,
really. And honestly, while you’re gone, I was thinking, beyond
shopping, I could use the me to start researching how to get into the
Ethiopian Airlines training program.”
The atmosphere in the room shi ed instantly. Gbenga’s expression

darkened as he pulled his hand away, si ng up straight. “Ethiopian
Airlines? Precious, are we really going to have this conversa on
now?”
She frowned, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “What do you
mean? We’ve talked about this before. You know it’s something I want
to pursue.”
Gbenga stood up, his frustra on becoming palpable. “We just got
married, and now you’re talking about running off to be an air
hostess? How is that supposed to work with everything we’re
building?”
Precious swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “Gbenga, it’s not about
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running off. It’s a dream. I thought you understood that.”
“I get it’s your dream, but what about us? What about the family we’re
star ng? How is it supposed to work if you’re flying all the me? You’ll
be gone half the year. What kind of life is that for a family?”
Precious felt her chest ghten, frustra on bubbling up inside her. “So
you’re saying I should just give up my dreams because we’re married
now? That’s not fair, Gbenga.”
He turned to face her, his voice low and firm. “I’m not saying you
should give up anything, but this... This is unrealis c. You’re talking
about star ng a family and being gone for months at a me. How is
that going to work?”
Precious stood up, crossing her arms defensively. “I thought you

believed in me. I thought you supported me.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I do, but we need to be

prac cal. How can we build a life together if you’re never around?
Forget the whole ‘glorified maid’ part, which is already annoying, but
what about us? What about our future?”
Precious’s eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to let them
fall. “I never thought you’d beli le my dream like this.”
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Gbenga’s shoulders sagged. He glanced at the clock and exhaled

deeply. “I need to pack. My flight leaves in a few hours.”
Precious nodded s ffly, her emo ons raw and tangled. She watched
as he gathered his things, the room feeling colder with every step he
took. When Gbenga finally approached her to say goodbye, he leaned
in for a kiss, but she turned her head slightly, avoiding his lips. He
paused, hurt flickering across his face, but he said nothing. Instead, he
gave her one last lingering look before heading for the door.
“I’ll call you,” he said as he stared at her.
Precious nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Safe travels.”
And with that, Gbenga walked out the door, leaving her standing in the
silence, her heart heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.
A few hours later
Precious sat alone in the quiet hotel room, staring at her phone. It had
been hours since Gbenga le , but his presence s ll lingered, a mixture
of warmth and sadness clinging to the air. She scrolled through their
recent messages, replying to his texts, but her heart felt heavier with
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each word she typed. His last message had come just moments ago:
We’re already on board. I’ll connect to the Wi-Fi soon so we can chat
before you sleep. I miss you already.
Precious had responded with all the right words—“I miss you too,”
“Safe travels,” “I’ll wait for your message”—but the emp ness inside
her was growing. It was strange. Just this morning, they had been so
happy, basking in the glow of their new marriage. She had felt like
everything was going to be perfect. But now, the tension from their
earlier conversa on s ll hung in the air like a storm cloud she couldn’t
shake.
As the clock struck midnight, tears welled in her eyes, spilling over
before she could stop them. She began to cry, so ly at first, but then
the sobs came, racking her body with the weight of all her fears and
frustra ons. Why was this happening? They had barely begun their
life together, and already it felt like they were on different pages. She
missed him, missed the connec on they had shared that morning, but
now everything felt off. Her phone buzzed again, and she wiped her
tears quickly, glancing at the screen. It was Gbenga.
I’ve got some Wi-Fi now. We can talk if you want. Are you okay? How
are you doing?
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Her heart ached at his words. She typed back quickly, the honesty of
her emo ons spilling out.
What do you think? How can I be fine?
Gbenga’s reply came almost immediately: I’m sorry, Precious. I just

want to make you happy. You know that. But I can’t pretend that I’m
okay with you choosing a career path that doesn’t make sense. It’s not
fair for you to expect me to approve something I believe isn’t good for
you.
Precious’s tears started again as she typed her response, her

frustra on pouring out: Why would you say it’s not good for me? Why
is it in your hands to decide? This is what I want. This is what God
placed in my heart!
There was a pause before Gbenga’s reply came: Maybe five years ago,
it would have been fine. But not now. You’re married to me, Precious. A
man like me can’t have a wife who is flying all over the place. I’m not
beli ling your dream. I just don’t like it. I can’t pretend I do.
Precious’s heart twisted painfully at his words. So what are you

saying? That you won’t approve?
Gbenga’s response was firm but nged with exaspera on: That’s not
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the point. I’m trying to get you to see reason, Precious. I’m not trying to
control you.
She stared at the screen, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Good night,
Gbenga.
He responded almost immediately: No, I don’t want to say goodnight.

I want to keep talking. I miss you already. I wish we were together.
Precious wiped her face with the back of her hand, her eyes red from
crying. Gbenga, I really can’t con nue this conversa on right now.
There was a long pause before his next message: Alright. Goodnight,
babe. I love you.
She stared at the words, her chest ghtening. Her fingers hovered
over the keyboard for a moment before she finally replied: Thanks.
And with that, she set the phone down, the heaviness in her heart
overwhelming. The tears came again, unbidden, and this me, they
wouldn’t stop. She clutched the pillow ghtly, burying her face in it as
she cried, her sobs filling the empty room.
“God,” she whispered between sobs, “I need You. I’m so confused.

This can’t be happening so early in our marriage. I don’t understand...
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I need You to intervene. Please, Lord. If this is truly the vision You’ve
given me, You need to convince Gbenga too. I can’t do this on my
own.”
As she lay there, exhausted from crying, her phone rang, breaking the
s llness of the night. She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping a
beat when she saw the name. It was Aun e Bose, her choir leader
from church.
“Why is she calling me at midnight?” Precious mu ered, wiping her

tears before answering. “Hello, Aun e. I’m sorry, good evening.”
“Precious,” Aun e Bose’s voice came through so ly but urgently. “I’m

sorry to call this late, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. Are you
okay? How is your husband? I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me awake and
tell me to call you. Is everything alright?” At her words, the dam broke,
and Precious began to cry all over again. “Precious? What happened?
Talk to me, my dear.”
Precious shook her head, even though Aun e Bose couldn’t see her. “I
don’t want to talk about it right now.”
The older woman’s voice was gentle and pa ent. “That’s okay, my
dear. You don’t have to. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. When
you’re ready, I’m here for you.”
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Before she could hang up, the words spilled out of Precious’s mouth,
almost without her meaning to say them. “Aun e, I feel God calling
me to work with Ethiopian Airlines as an air hostess. Gbenga... he
doesn’t approve. He didn’t approve before we got married, but I
thought maybe a er the wedding, he’d understand. Now I see he
doesn’t. But I want to do it anyway. This is what God told me to do.”
There was silence on the line for a moment before Aun e Bose spoke
so ly. “I understand. Let’s meet tomorrow, Precious. We can talk it
through, pray, and seek God’s guidance together. Where is Gbenga
now?”
“He’s on his way to China,” she replied, her voice small. “He’ll be back
in a week.”
“Good. Let’s meet tomorrow then. Don’t worry, God is mindful of

you.”
“Thank you, Aun e,” Precious whispered, her tears slowing as she felt
a small wave of comfort wash over her.
A er the call ended, she knelt by the bed, whispering another prayer.
“Thank You, Lord, for being mindful of me. Thank You for sending
Aun e Bose. I trust You to guide me through this.”
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With a deep sigh, she lay down, exhaus on finally pulling her into
sleep.
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The sharp, cool air of Beijing greeted Gbenga as he stepped off the

plane. His long flight had been exhaus ng, but he had li le me to
rest. As soon as he exited the airport, he spo ed the sleek black SUV
wai ng for him at the curb. One of the company’s managers, Mr.
Zhang, was already seated inside, his sharp eyes catching him as he
approached.
“Mr. Ayo-Douglas, welcome to Beijing,” Mr. Zhang greeted warmly as

Gbenga se led into the leather seat.
“Thank you. I appreciate you coming to pick me up personally,” he

replied, adjus ng his suit jacket.
Mr. Zhang smiled but quickly got to business. “The chairman is looking
forward to mee ng with you. He speaks limited English, so I’ll serve as
your interpreter. In the mean me, I want to bring you up to speed on
the progress of the deal.” Gbenga nodded, his mind quickly shi ing
gears as Mr. Zhang began to explain. “The fields in Guangdong are
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progressing well with an es mated yield of 2 million barrels annually.

Our projec ons for this year are looking favourable, especially with
the expansion plans we’ve submi ed. The government has granted us
extended permits for drilling, which will allow us to explore deeper
reserves, but the chairman wants to discuss your liquidity in securing
the necessary infrastructure for transport.”
Gbenga listened intently, his mind already calcula ng the logis cs.
“We’ll need to ensure that the oil can be moved efficiently to the
refineries and ports. Has your team run the numbers on the
transporta on costs?”
“We’ve done preliminary assessments,” Mr. Zhang replied. “But with

your involvement, we could secure be er deals for rail and pipeline
expansion. That’s why the chairman is eager to meet you. Beyond
your family’s standing, he knows Pinnacle Bank can offer strategic
financial solu ons too.”
As Mr. Zhang con nued to update him, Gbenga’s phone buzzed in his
pocket. He glanced at it briefly and saw a message from Precious. His
heart skipped a beat, and he quickly typed out a reply: I’ve landed
now. I’m on my way to the hotel to freshen up, then straight to the first
mee ng with the chairman. How are you?
He waited, but no response came. His chest ghtened, but he tried to
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push the feeling aside. His a en on was split between the business at
hand and the growing concern about Precious. He couldn’t stop
thinking about their last conversa on. He knew she was hurt, and it
bothered him deeply.
As the SUV pulled up to his hotel, Gbenga nodded to Mr. Zhang.

“Thank you for the update. I’ll see you at the mee ng with the
chairman in a few hours.”
“Of course,” Mr. Zhang replied with a polite nod. “I’ll come to collect
you then.”
Gbenga headed into the hotel, but his thoughts were far from the oil
deal. As soon as he stepped into his room, he dropped his bags on the
floor and loosened his e. He had promised himself that he would be a
strong, loving leader in their marriage—just as Christ is the head of the
church. But this... this was complicated. He knelt by the bed and began
to pray.
“Lord, I don’t want to mislead my wife. I want to be a good leader. I

want to love her like You love Your church, and I don’t want her to think
I’m trying to control her. God, am I wrong? Please, tell me if I’m wrong
to stop her.” His voice trembled slightly as he con nued. “Lord, it
doesn’t make sense to me. You’ve blessed me beyond what I could
ever have imagined. I have more than enough to provide for us and
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our future children. Why would my wife need to work as an air

hostess? I could fund a state in Nigeria for a year with what You’ve
given me... Why would I let her work in a job like that? It just doesn’t
make sense. God, is this a test? Is this a phase You’re taking me
through? If so, please show me the way.”
Gbenga paused, listening for any sign or word from God, but the room
remained s ll. No answers came. His heart felt heavy, the uncertainty
pressing down on him.
“Lord, if this is not Your plan, if You haven’t truly spoken to Precious,
please change her mind. I want to take care of her, Lord. I want to show
her the world. I want to posi on her for global opportuni es, for
something bigger than serving drinks on an aeroplane. I want her to go
to business school, to learn how to impact the world. I don’t want her
to be some servant on a plane. Please, God, guide me. Teach me how
to lead in a way that honours You.”
As he poured his heart out in prayer, his phone buzzed again, the
sound vibra ng on the nightstand. He ignored it at first, too caught up
in his pleas to God. The phone rang once more, insistent, before finally
falling silent. It wasn’t un l Gbenga finished his prayer and opened his
eyes that he no ced the message flashing on his screen.
The chairman will be here in 45 minutes. It’s best if you’re ready to
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meet him as soon as he arrives.
Gbenga quickly stood up, feeling calmer, though the weight of the
situa on with Precious hadn’t fully li ed. He glanced at the clock and
hurried to freshen up for the mee ng. As he straightened his e in
front of the mirror, he whispered a final prayer under his breath.
“Lord, I trust You. Lead me.”
With that, he grabbed his briefcase and le the room, feeling a bit
more composed, but knowing there was s ll much to be resolved.
Precious sat quietly on the plush sofa in Aunty Bose’s living room, her
eyes dri ing to the window as she tried to se le her thoughts. The
sound of children playing in the background filled the house—Aunty
Bose’s three li le ones, full of energy, were running around, squealing
with joy. Their laughter echoed through the house, but Precious found
it hard to focus on anything except the heaviness in her heart.
Aunty Bose entered the room, carrying a tray with two cups of orange
juice. She set it down on the table and sat beside Precious, offering her
a warm smile. “Sorry about the noise,” she said, waving her hand
toward the children. “They can be a handful.”
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Precious chuckled lightly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her
eyes. “They’re adorable.”
As if on cue, the children burst into the room, giggling and running
around the chairs. Aunty Bose sighed and called for the nanny, who
quickly appeared and ushered them out of the room, leaving the two
women in peace. With the sudden quiet, Precious’s thoughts
wandered, her mind briefly imagining what it would be like to have
children with Gbenga. The thought warmed her heart, but she quickly
pushed it aside, knowing that their current issue felt like an
insurmountable wall between them. How could they even think of
children when they couldn’t agree on something so fundamental?
“So,” Aunty Bose began, leaning forward slightly. “You want to work as
an air hostess, and your husband doesn’t approve, and you want to do
it regardless. That’s what you said yesterday, right?”
Precious shi ed uncomfortably in her seat. “You make it sound like I

want to disobey him. I’m not trying to disobey him.”
Aunty Bose smiled so ly, nodding. “Exactly. Now, I spent a good

por on of the night praying about this, and while I didn’t hear God
speak to me directly, I feel a sense of posi vity that you’re moving in
the right direc on by wan ng to pursue this. However…” she paused,
her eyes locking with Precious’s, “the word of God is a lamp unto our
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feet and a light unto our path. And the Bible says that a wife should
submit to her husband and obey him.”
Precious’s heart sank slightly, though she remained quiet.
Aunty Bose con nued gently. “You told me Gbenga is a Chris an,
right?” Precious nodded. “Well, that means he has the same
rela onship with God that you do. So instead of figh ng with your
husband, why not take it to God? You didn’t marry a non-believer,
Precious. If you had, I would simply tell you to keep praying, but in this
case, it’s easier because the man you married knows God. And while
the Bible says you should submit to your husband, it also says your
husband should submit to Christ, who is the true head of your home.”
Precious remained silent, her mind racing with thoughts of Gbenga

and their last conversa on.
“Here’s the thing,” Aunty Bose said so ly, leaning forward. “Your
marriage is s ll so young; too young for you to start it on the altar of
figh ng and disobedience. Focus on building the founda on of your
home with peace and happiness. Pray to God and ask Him to show
your husband His will. If this is really God’s plan for you, then let God
be the one to tell Gbenga. Do you understand?”
Precious nodded slowly, taking in the older woman’s words. Aunty
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Bose was right—there was no point in turning her new marriage into a
ba lefield.
“I’m not telling you to abandon your dreams or your passion. I’m
simply saying we must do it the biblical way,” she con nued. “I know
these days, we’re all talking about women’s rights and feminism, and
I’m all for that, but figh ng a man is not the way to get him to comply,
Ask God to lead your husband. Hand it over to Jesus and let Him work
in both of your hearts.”
Precious exhaled deeply. “You’re so wise, Aunty Bose. I hadn’t thought

about it like that.”
Aunty Bose smiled warmly. “I didn’t get wise overnight, my dear. The
first five years of my marriage to the Doctor were a war zone! But the
moment I handed everything over to Jesus, He took charge, and
everything changed. I’m telling you, don’t wait five years to figure it
out. Let Jesus lead from the start.”
Precious smiled, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this was exactly what
she needed to hear.
Aunty Bose reached for her hand. “Come, let’s pray. We’ll hand this
over to God, and He’ll guide you.” They both knelt by the sofa, and she
began to pray, her voice calm and steady, filled with faith. “Lord, we
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come before You with Precious’s heart laid bare. We ask for Your
guidance, Your wisdom, and Your peace in this ma er. You know her
dreams, and You know her husband’s heart. Help them find common
ground in You. Let them both submit to Your will and trust in Your plan
for their marriage and their future. We leave everything in Your hands,
Lord. Amen.”
Precious whispered her own prayer in her heart, asking God to

intervene, to guide her, and to show Gbenga His plan. As they finished
praying, Aunty Bose began to hum a familiar, trending worship song.
Precious recognized it immediately and joined in:
"You are Yahweh, Alpha and Omega..." Their voices filled the room,
the peace of God se ling over them like a warm blanket.
As they finished the song, the nanny brought the children back into
the room, their laughter once again filling the house. But this me,
Precious’s heart felt lighter.
The large conference room was filled with an air of expecta on.
Gbenga adjusted his e as he se led into his seat across from
Chairman Wang, the head of the Chinese oil conglomerate. The stakes
were high, and he could feel the weight of his father’s trust res ng on
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his shoulders.
Chairman Wang, an imposing yet gracious figure, greeted Gbenga

with a nod as he sat down. Beside him was Mr. Zhang, the company’s
English-speaking liaison and interpreter. As they exchanged
pleasantries, Gbenga no ced the chairman studying him with a keen
interest. Once the formali es were over, Chairman Wang spoke in
rapid Mandarin, and Mr. Zhang translated smoothly.
“Bìngjiā,” he said, using the Chinese pronuncia on of Gbenga’s name.

“Your father, Chief Ayo-Douglas, spoke highly of you. He insisted that
you spearhead this deal. And now that I see you, I understand why.”
Gbenga smiled politely but remained focused, knowing the real

conversa on was just beginning. “Thank you, Chairman Wang. It’s an
honour to represent my family. We believe that this partnership could
be beneficial for both par es, par cularly in securing the long-term
financial sustainability of your opera ons in Guangdong.”
Chairman Wang nodded, speaking again through Mr. Zhang.

“Precisely. We have been monitoring Pinnacle Bank’s ac vi es in
Africa, par cularly your work with large-scale infrastructure projects.
This is why I insisted that you take the lead on this. What we need is a
partner who can help us scale our transport and refining capaci es.
Our es mates suggest a significant increase in oil yield over the next
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few years, and we want to ensure our pipelines and rail systems are
capable of handling that growth.”
Gbenga leaned forward slightly, ready to show his strategic insight.

“I’ve studied the projec ons for your oil fields and the current
limita ons of your infrastructure. With the increase in yield, the
current transport routes will become bo lenecked, leading to
delayed deliveries and higher costs.” Mr. Zhang translated, and the
chairman listened intently as Gbenga con nued. “My team at
Pinnacle has already run scenarios for financing the expansion of your
pipeline and rail systems. We can offer a hybrid financing solu on:
short-term loans for immediate infrastructure upgrades, coupled with
long-term investment strategies to help manage your overall
opera onal costs over the next decade.”
Chairman Wang’s eyebrows raised, impressed by Gbenga’s thorough

understanding of the problem. “What would that entail exactly?” he
asked through his interpreter.
Gbenga remained composed. “To start, we can mobilise funds to

cover the immediate expansion costs—roughly $400 million for
pipeline extensions to connect the oil fields to refineries more
efficiently. But the key is structuring the financing in a way that your
long-term revenue from the increased output covers the cost of the
loans without burdening your cash flow.” He paused, allowing that to
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sink in before adding, “We would also advise leveraging the expansion
to secure addi onal partnerships with the Chinese government and
private logis cs companies. Pinnacle Bank has established
rela onships with several firms that can help manage the supply
chain. This would allow your company to focus more on produc on
and less on the logis cs and transport side of things.”
Chairman Wang exchanged a glance with Mr. Zhang, and the

interpreter quickly relayed a ques on. “How soon can Pinnacle Bank
mobilise this financing?”
Gbenga smiled. “We can begin the process immediately. I’ve already
spoken with our treasury team, and we’re prepared to move forward
as soon as the partnership agreement is finalised.”
Chairman Wang leaned back in his chair, visibly impressed. He spoke

in Chinese, but his tone was clear even before Mr. Zhang translated.
“You’re more brilliant than I had an cipated. I’ve had ten of my
managers working on solu ons, but none have been as
comprehensive or forward-thinking as yours. You’ve prepared
thoroughly, haven’t you?”
Gbenga smiled modestly. “Yes, I have. I wanted to ensure that this deal
would be a success. It’s not just important for my family—it’s
important to me personally.”
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The chairman chuckled, clearly sa sfied. “Bìngjiā, I admire your

dedica on, but tell me, what mo vates such excellence?”
Gbenga’s face so ened. “I recently got married,” he said, as Mr. Zhang

translated. “Just two days ago, actually. My wife is incredibly
understanding, but I want to wrap this up as quickly as possible so I can
return to her.”
Chairman Wang’s eyes widened in surprise. “You were married just

two days ago, and you’re here? You should be on your honeymoon!”
Gbenga chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, I probably should
be, but this deal is too important for my family, and my wife is very
suppor ve.”
Chairman Wang grinned, leaning forward. “Well, in that case, we

should expedite this. I’m impressed with your exper se. We don’t
need to prolong this. Now that I’ve met you in person, the rest can be
handled virtually. I trust you can send a representa ve to finalise the
minor details with my team?”
Gbenga’s relief was palpable, though he kept his composure. “I would

appreciate that, Chairman. Thank you.”
The mee ng concluded with handshakes all around, and Chairman
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Wang’s final words le Gbenga with a sense of sa sfac on. “You are
truly more brilliant than I could have expected. Your father is fortunate
to have you leading this.”
Gbenga le the mee ng feeling proud but eager to return to his hotel
room. As soon as he stepped through the door, he began packing his
bags. Pulling out his phone, he started typing a message to Precious:
I’m not staying here for a week. I’ll be back tomorrow morning—no,
tonight!
A er a moment, he hesitated, erasing the message. He would surprise

her instead. Dialling his personal assistant, he quickly arranged for the
jet to be prepared for departure in the next few hours.
“Is the jet fueled and ready?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. We can take off in four hours if that works for you,” his PA
replied.
“That’s perfect. I’ll freshen up, grab something to eat, and head to the
airport.”
The PA chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest and leave in the
morning? The last flight must have been exhaus ng.”
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Gbenga shook his head, a wide smile on his face. “I’m not was ng a
single minute if it means I can see my wife sooner.”
The PA laughed. “Well, sir, that’s inspiring. I’ll make sure everything is
ready.”
Gbenga hung up, his heart racing with excitement. In just a few hours,
he would be on his way back to Precious, and he couldn’t wait to
surprise her.
Precious sat on the edge of the bed in her hotel room, scrolling
absentmindedly through her phone. She had spent most of the day
alone, missing Gbenga more than she’d an cipated, yet, it had only
been four days since he le . A sigh escaped her as she tried to distract
herself from the emp ness. Suddenly, a so knock echoed through
the room, startling her from her thoughts.
“Who could that be?” she murmured to herself, standing up and

walking toward the door.
When she opened it, she found a hotel staff member standing there,
pushing a large cart overflowing with food—everything from
croissants to exo c fruits, a colourful display of culinary delights.
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Precious blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong room. I’m alone here, and I didn’t
order all this food.”
The staff member shook his head politely. “No, ma’am. The order was
placed specifically for this room.”
Precious glanced back at the cart, her heart skipping a beat. Could
Gbenga have sent this? She sighed, half-annoyed and half-touched by
the gesture. This man... she thought. Why send so much food? We
can’t be wasteful like this. But then, her heart so ened, realising how
though ul he was. He was always thinking of her, even from miles
away.
“Okay, bring it in,” she finally said with a small smile.
As the staff arranged the food on the table, Precious’s mind wandered
to Gbenga’s kindness. He’s really something else, she thought, shaking
her head. Just as she was about to sit down, there was another knock
at the door. Her eyes narrowed. What now? Room service again? She
opened the door—and her heart nearly stopped. There, standing in
front of her, was Gbenga, a wide grin on his face.
“Oh my God! Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?” she gasped, her hands
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flying to her mouth in disbelief.
Gbenga chuckled, stepping into the room. “I like that reac on! That
means you’re happy to see me, right? Am I forgiven?”
Precious blinked rapidly, her emo ons swirling. “I’m not holding
grudges against you.” She paused, her heart full. “How... How are you
here? Did you finish the deal already? This is s ll so early!”
He shrugged, smiling. “Well, I was able to wrap things up quickly in

China. I didn’t want to spend one extra day without seeing you.”
Precious couldn’t hold back her joy any longer. She rushed into his
arms, burying her face in his chest. “Oh my God, Gbenga, I love you.
I’ve missed you so much. Thank you. I’ve been so alone, I didn’t know
what to do with myself.”
Gbenga wrapped his arms around her ghtly. “I missed you too,” he
murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry about how we le things.”
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered back, pulling away slightly to look into
his eyes.
He glanced around the room, his gaze landing on the table

overflowing with food. “I see the food has arrived.”
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Precious laughed. “You sent all this food? You must be starving! Let’s
go eat. I’m hungry too.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the
table, but before they reached it, he swept her off her feet, li ing her
into his arms. “Gbenga! What are you doing?” she squealed, laughing.
He carried her toward the bed, his grin widening. “I told you I was
hungry. I just didn’t tell you what I wanted to eat.”
Precious blushed, swa ng his arm lightly. “Gbenga! I’m not

food—you can’t eat me!”
He gently placed her on the bed and leaned down, his voice so but
playful. “Trust me, I didn’t get enough of you the other day. I need to
refuel before I touch that table of food.”
Precious laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “This guy! You’re

mischievous, you know that?”
Gbenga lay beside her, pulling her close, the laughter between them
fading into so whispers. The warmth of their connec on filled the
room, and soon, they were lost in each other, the joy of their reunion
overwhelming them. Later, Gbenga lay fast asleep, exhausted from
the journey and the whirlwind of emo ons while Precious watched
him, her heart swelling with gra tude. This man came all the way back
just to be with me. She laughed quietly, thinking about how he had
fallen asleep before even touching the food. He must have been so
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red. Her heart overflowed with love and gra tude for the sacrifice he
made to be with her.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Ayo-Douglas mansion stood grand and imposing, its tall gates
opening smoothly to welcome Gbenga and Precious. As their car
rolled to a stop in the driveway, she inhaled deeply, trying to steady
the nerves flu ering in her chest. This visit felt more significant than
the others—it was a formal goodbye before their big move to
Ethiopia, and Gbenga had made it clear that this was important to his
family.
“Ready?” he asked with a warm smile, taking her hand in his as they
stepped out of the car. Precious smiled back, feeling reassured by his
presence.
The staff greeted them with wide smiles and respec ul nods, voices
echoing through the grand foyer: “Ah, the new couple is here!”
They walked into the spacious living room, and the family and a few
close friends were gathered, ready to welcome them. “Ah-ah, our
newlyweds!”
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Aun es and cousins hurried to give hugs, handshakes, and

congratula ons, and Precious could feel the warmth around her. It
was a sharp contrast to the lingering tension she some mes felt
around Gbenga’s mother, who hadn’t yet come to greet them.
Gbenga leaned in close, whispering, “Come, let’s go and see Daddy.”
Precious nodded, feeling shy about a face-to-face with her father-in-

law as they made their way to Chief Ayo-Douglas’s study. She kept her
head high, her simple yet elegant dress making her feel composed,
even though her heart raced. Was she truly part of this family, or was
she just the new addi on they were s ll weighing and judging?
Chief Ayo-Douglas was standing by his desk when they entered, a wide
smile spreading across his face. He wasted no me walking over to
them and enveloping Precious in a warm hug that caught her by
surprise.
“Precious, my dear, welcome. It’s always a joy to see you.”
Precious returned the smile, feeling a li le more at ease. “Thank you,

sir.”
Chief Ayo-Douglas gave Gbenga a knowing grin. “I trust my son has

been trea ng you well?”
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Precious blushed slightly, nodding. “Yes, sir. He’s been wonderful.”
Chief Ayo-Douglas chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good, good. Now, I

have something for you, my dear.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek black card.
Precious blinked in surprise, staring at it as he handed it to her.
“What’s this, sir?” she asked, her voice so .
“It’s an unlimited expense card,” Chief Ayo-Douglas explained with a

casual wave of his hand. “You can use it for whatever you want. I give
one to all my daughters.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. “Dad, you only
have one daughter. What do you mean, ‘all your daughters’?”
His father let out a hearty laugh. “Well, now I have two,” he said, then
looked back at Precious. “I was going to give this to you at the
wedding, but you disappeared early. It’s yours now.”
Precious took the card hesitantly, unsure of how to respond. It felt like
too much—too generous, too sudden. She tried to kneel as a reflex to
show her respect, but her father-in-law stopped her.
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“No need to kneel, my dear,” he said, pulling her into another hug.
“You’re my daughter now.”
The warmth in his words made her chest ghten with emo on.
“Thank you, sir.”
Just as her nerves began to se le, she caught sight of Mrs. Ayo-
Douglas from across the room. The older woman stood s ll, her
expression unreadable. Precious’s gra tude faltered under the weight
of that distant gaze. Gbenga must have no ced too. He sighed, his
hand slipping to the small of her back.
“Come with me for a moment,” he said so ly, guiding Precious toward

his mother.
When they reached her, Precious’s heart picked up speed again. She
curtsied slightly, her voice careful and respec ul. “Good a ernoon,
ma.”
“Good a ernoon, Precious. How are you?” she said, giving a curt nod.
“I’m fine, ma. Thank you.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas smiled briefly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, let
me leave you two. I’m sure you and your father have business to
discuss.”
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As Mrs. Ayo-Douglas began to turn away, Gbenga’s hand caught her

arm gently. “Mum, can I speak to you for a moment?”
She hesitated, her face revealing nothing, but eventually nodded.

Gbenga led her a li le further away from Precious, far enough for
privacy but not so far that Precious couldn’t feel the gravity of what
was about to be said.
“Mummy,” he began, his tone steady but with an undercurrent of

vulnerability that surprised even him. “I love you. You’ve been one of
the most solid parts of my life for as long as I can remember.” Mrs. Ayo-
Douglas listened, her face so ening just a li le, but her eyes remained
guarded. “But now I’m married,” he con nued, his voice gentler.
“Precious is my life partner, and I love her deeply. You and Precious are
the two most important women in my life, and when you’re cold to
her, it hurts me.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas s ffened slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“I’m protec ve of you, Gbenga. I always have been.”
“I know,” he said quickly, “and I appreciate that. I’ve always

appreciated that. But Precious is here because I love her, and I need
you to try to accept her and be kind to her.”
His mother’s expression flickered—something fragile passing over her
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face—but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “You’re asking a

lot.”
Gbenga smiled, but there was something sad in it. “Maybe I am. But if
you can do this, I’ll love you even more. You’ve always been my anchor.
I need you to be part of this too.”
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, her voice so ened. “I’ll
try.”
Gbenga’s smile widened, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Mum.”
He kissed her on the cheek, his hand lingering for a moment longer
before he turned and walked back to Precious. Mrs. Ayo-Douglas
stood there, watching them, and then slowly walked away, her steps
measured.
“What did you say to her?” Precious asked as soon as he got to her.
“That she needs to be nice to you,” Gbenga said with a smile.
Precious’s eyes widened in concern. “Gbenga…” she started, but he

cut her off.
“I need to see my dad and give him feedback on my trip,” he said,

glancing in the direc on of his father, who stood not too far from the
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open door of his office, watching them. Precious nodded in

understanding. “You think you can be on your own for a few minutes?”
Precious wasn’t sure she wanted to be le alone without him by her

side, but she nodded anyway, pas ng a smile on her face so he
wouldn’t worry about her and could concentrate on discussing
business with his father. “Yes, I’ll be fine,” she mu ered.
Giving her a quick kiss, Gbenga returned to his father, who gestured
for him to sit down as soon as he walked in and shut the door.
“So, son,” Chief Ayo-Douglas began, his tone more serious now, “how
do you plan to juggle Pinnacle Bank and our family business? You
know that running both will stretch you thin. I think it’s me to focus
on one.”
Gbenga sat up straighter, his voice firm but respec ul. “Dad, the bank
is what allows me to fulfil the Chinese deal be er. My connec ons
there have opened doors that the family business alone couldn’t.”
Chief Ayo-Douglas raised an eyebrow. “You believe juggling both will

work out in the long run?”
“I do,” he replied confidently. “I’ve prepared for this. The Chinese trust
me because of my role at Pinnacle Bank. Without that, they wouldn’t
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have moved forward so quickly.”
His father leaned back, considering his words. “Running a family

business is different from managing a bank. You’re taking on a lot.”
“I know,” he replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“But I’m ready for it.”
Chief Ayo-Douglas nodded slowly, pride shining in his eyes. “Alright,

son,. I trust you know what you’re doing. Just don’t burn yourself out,
you’ve got a family now.”
“I won’t, Dad. I promise.”
Precious followed Mrs. Ayo-Douglas through the grand hallway, her

heart bea ng a li le faster with each step. The woman had caught her
standing not too far from the office her husband had disappeared
into, staring at the pictures lining the wall, and had asked her to follow
her. The house, which she had always thought of as imposing, felt
even more so now as she walked in silence beside her mother-in-law.
The warm gree ngs and pleasantries downstairs seemed like a distant
memory, replaced by the quiet tension of the moment.
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Mrs. Ayo-Douglas hadn’t said much a er asking that Precious follow

her, and Precious couldn’t help feeling nervous. As they reached the
dining room, she hesitated, thinking they might sit and talk, but just as
she was about to pull out a chair, her mother-in-law’s cool voice
stopped her.
“No, we’re going to my room.”
Precious blinked in surprise, her feet faltering for a second. She hadn’t
expected this. She glanced at the dining table then back at Mrs. Ayo-
Douglas, but the older woman had already turned and was walking
toward a different hallway. Precious quickly followed, her mind racing.
When they reached the master bedroom, her breath caught in her
throat. The room was massive, easily larger than any room she had
ever been in. Her eyes widened as she took in the luxurious
decor—the intricately designed walls, the plush carpet, the
chandeliers that sparkled above them. It was like something out of a
magazine.
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas no ced her reac on and smiled slightly. “You like
the room?”
Precious nodded, her voice a li le breathless. “It’s beau ful, ma. I’ve
never seen anything like it.”
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“I redecorated last year,” she said, her tone casual. “Got my decorator
from Dubai to come and do it. I think she did a good job.”
Precious nodded again, not quite sure what to say. She was s ll
absorbing the opulence of the room when Mrs. Ayo-Douglas walked
over to a large armoire and pulled out a box. Opening it, she revealed a
dazzling collec on of jewellery—necklaces, bracelets, and earrings,
all gli ering under the so light.
“I want you to have these,” she said, holding out the box toward
Precious.
Precious’s eyes widened. She took a hesitant step forward, looking at

the jewellery in awe. “Oh my God... I can’t accept this, ma. It’s too
much.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. I’ve had it

for a while. It’s yours now.”
Precious stared at the jewellery, unsure of how to respond. She was

deeply touched, but there was something in Mrs. Ayo-Douglas’s tone
that made her feel uncertain. She glanced at the older woman and
with a hesitant smile, said, “Thank you, ma. I’m so grateful. I... I
thought you didn’t like me.”
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The older woman’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before she
shrugged lightly. “I s ll don’t know if I like you,” she said bluntly, her
voice calm. “It’s just jewellery. It’s not a token of affec on or
anything.”
Precious blinked, taken aback by the frankness of the statement. Her

throat felt ght, but she forced herself to smile. “Ma... I want you to
like me. I want us to have a good rela onship. I love your son so much.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas sighed, her gaze so ening slightly. “I just want
what’s best for Gbenga. I’m not saying you’re not good for him... I
think you’re a good girl, but I’ve been protec ve of Gbenga for a long
me. He’s never believed in marriage or love, and now, here he is,
saying he’s in love with you. Some mes, I wonder if this is real or if...”
she paused, her lips pressing into a thin line, “...if you’ve somehow
bewitched him.”
Precious’s heart dropped at the insinua on. She shook her head
quickly, her voice trembling slightly. “No, ma. I promise, there’s no
magic. We just fell in love. I love your son with all my heart.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas studied her for a long moment, her expression

unreadable. Finally, she nodded. “I’m watching you, Precious. I don’t
hate you, but I’m watching. We’ll see how things go.” Precious
swallowed hard, nodding silently. “Gbenga is not young,” she added,
her tone so ening just a li le. “I would appreciate it if you two gave
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me grandchildren soon.”
Precious managed a small smile, though her heart was s ll pounding.

“We’ll look forward to what God has in store for us, ma.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas’s gaze shi ed slightly as she asked, “So, what do you
plan to do about work? Do you want to stay at home, or do you have
other plans? Not that it ma ers to me. I’m just asking. As you know I
don’t work. Managing this family is more than enough to keep me
engaged..”
Precious opened her mouth to speak, the words “air hostess” on the
p of her tongue, but she hesitated. She remembered Gbenga’s
reac on and how upset he had been at the idea. Instead, she offered a
more neutral answer. “I’m s ll figuring that out, ma.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas nodded slowly, her lips ghtening into a thin smile.
“Well, being married to Gbenga is work in itself. That boy works so
hard... He doesn’t eat properly. As far as I’m concerned, he’s
malnourished even though he doesn’t look like it. So, please, make
sure you take care of him. That would be good.”
Precious smiled, feeling a small sense of relief. “I promise, ma. I will.”
Mrs. Ayo-Douglas gave a small nod, as though the conversa on had

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reached its natural conclusion. “When are you two leaving for
Ethiopia?”
“In two days, ma,” she replied so ly.
The older woman nodded again. “Well, I wish you both the best.” Her
voice so ened just a touch, but there was s ll a distance in her tone.
Precious offered a small smile and thanked her once again for the
jewellery. As she walked out of the room, she knew that while the
door to a rela onship with her mother-in-law hadn’t exactly closed, it
hadn’t opened all the way either.
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
The private jet was a masterpiece of luxury, its sleek interior radia ng
wealth and power. Precious followed Gbenga up the stairs, her hand in
his, but as soon as they stepped inside, she froze. Si ng comfortably
in one of the plush seats, sipping a glass of sparkling water, was Agnes.
Gbenga greeted her first, his tone casual. “Agnes, good to see you.”
Agnes looked up with a bright smile. “Gbenga,

Precious—congratula ons on the wedding! I’m sorry I couldn’t make
it, I was in London on business.”
Precious forced a smile, her unease growing. “Thank you,” she said
so ly, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
Gbenga led her to a quiet corner of the jet where they could sit
together, and the moment they se led, Precious leaned closer to
Gbenga, her voice a tense whisper. “Why is she here?”
Gbenga blinked, momentarily confused. “Agnes? Oh, right. I didn’t get

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a chance to tell you she’s going to be working for me. She’s heading the
family business team.”
Precious’s eyes widened, her stomach twis ng in knots. “Working for

you?”
“Yeah,” he replied, completely unaware of her growing discomfort.

“I’m going to need someone to handle the intricacies of the oil deal
while I juggle the bank. Agnes is perfect for it—she’s got experience
managing large projects like this. My dad and Uncle Seye, Aun e
Mildred’s husband, agreed that I needed someone who could focus
exclusively on the family business, and Agnes came highly
recommended.”
“Why didn’t you men on this earlier?” she asked, processing the
informa on. “I mean, she was introduced as your fiancée at the
birthday party, and now she’s working closely with you? That’s odd.”
Gbenga chuckled lightly, brushing it off. “I explained to you that that

was a misunderstanding. There’s nothing to worry about. This is
purely business.”
“But it’s s ll...” she started, glancing over at Agnes, who was now
tapping away on her laptop. “Why a woman? And why her?”
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“Are you jealous?” Gbenga teased, his tone playful.
“No, I’m not jealous,” Precious replied, though her voice lacked
convic on. “I’m just trying to understand why you didn’t think it was
important to men on this to me.”
“Precious, relax,” Gbenga said, taking her hand. “This deal with the
Chinese is cri cal for my family, and I can’t handle everything alone.
Agnes is extremely competent. Trust me, this is all professional.”
Precious sighed but didn’t push further. Gbenga stood up, walking
over to Agnes. “Agnes,” he began, glancing at her laptop, “how’s the
ini al assessment of the fiscal models for the oil deal looking?”
Agnes turned the screen toward him, displaying a detailed

spreadsheet. “I’ve completed the financial projec ons for the first
two quarters. We’ll be looking at a significant cash flow increase,
assuming the downstream expansion goes as planned. But I no ced a
gap in the capital structure model—there’s a discrepancy in the cost
alloca on for the refinery upgrades.”
Gbenga frowned slightly, leaning in to review the data. “That’s odd. I

thought the upgrades were already budgeted under the CapEx for this
year.”
Agnes nodded. “They are, but the opera ng expenses associated with
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the new technology are higher than an cipated. We need to

renego ate the maintenance contract with the vendors in Shanghai to
bring that down otherwise, it’ll eat into the margin projec ons.”
Gbenga nodded, impressed. “Good catch. I’ll speak with my uncle

about revisi ng the contracts. In the mean me, can you prepare a
detailed report with your recommenda ons by tomorrow?”
Agnes smiled confidently. “Of course. I’ll have it ready.”
Gbenga gave a sa sfied nod and returned to Precious’s side. “See? All
business.”
But Precious’s mood hadn’t improved. “You didn’t have to explain it to

me,” she said, her voice quiet. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t
men on any of this earlier.”
Sensing the tension, he took her hand again. “Okay, I think we need
some privacy.”
He led her toward the back of the jet where a private bedroom
awaited them. Precious raised an eyebrow as they stepped inside.
“A bedroom on a plane?” she asked, half in wonder.
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Gbenga grinned. “Well, we do go all out, don’t we?”
“You rich people,” she teased even though her heart wasn’t in the
joke.
“You’re rich now too,” he replied, pulling her closer. “Welcome to the
club.”
Precious managed a small smile, but her mind was s ll swirling. “I’m
not comfortable with this, Gbenga. This woman—Agnes—I know it
was a mistake at the birthday party, but it feels off.”
Gbenga sighed, pulling her into his arms. “You’re overthinking this.
Agnes is brilliant, and I need her. It’s really nothing more than that.
Don’t worry yourself.”
Precious shook her head slightly. “Why does it have to be her?

Couldn’t it have been someone else?”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I do,” she insisted, though the uncertainty in her voice betrayed her.
“I just... I don’t know. It feels strange.”
Gbenga pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re worrying over nothing.
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We should be enjoying our honeymoon, not stressing over work.”
Precious sighed deeply, unable to shake the feeling that something

was off. “This is my cue to leave this room,” she said, a emp ng to
lighten the mood as she pulled away, but Gbenga held her hand firmly,
a playful smile on his lips.
“Not so fast.” He pulled her back into his arms, kissing her so ly.
Precious kissed him back, but her mind couldn’t quiet. As much as she
wanted to trust him, she couldn’t shake the unease bubbling inside
her. “I love you,” he whispered as if he could s ll sense her unease and
wanted to reassure her.. “Everything will be perfect. Once we’re
se led in Ethiopia, it’s going to be amazing.”
“I love you too,” she whispered back, her arms wrapping around him.
But as she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, she
couldn’t help but feel like everything was far from perfect.
And she couldn’t stop thinking about Agnes.
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Hours later
Agnes walked into her apartment, greeted by the quiet efficiency of a

chalet usher who handed over her keys. She stepped inside, taking a
moment to appreciate her new surroundings. The place was
immaculate—tastefully furnished, spacious, with floor-to-ceiling
windows overlooking the city. Every detail had been me culously
handled, and despite the rush of it all, it was clear that Gbenga had
made sure she was comfortable. A smile tugged at her lips. His
a en on to detail was impressive. Arranging an apartment this nice
on such short no ce spoke volumes about his ability to manage
things, and his inten onality in making sure things were done right.
Gbenga Ayo-Douglas really knew how to take care of things.
As she wandered through the space, placing her bags in the bedroom
and inspec ng the modern kitchen, her thoughts dri ed back to the
deal she’d made—one she could never have imagined agreeing to
before. When her mother had first called, relaying what Aunty
Mildred had told her about the opportunity, she had refused outright.
Be the other woman?
She had scoffed at the idea. Agnes had never wanted to be the woman
standing on the outside, especially not for someone like him—a man
who clearly adored his wife. She had watched the way he had
proposed to Precious at his birthday party. His love for her was
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Gateway To Heaven
obvious and genuine.
Yet, here she was.
She sighed, pausing in the living room, the enormity of what she had
signed up for momentarily overwhelming her. Sure, she wasn’t
someone who had always played clean when it came to ge ng what
she wanted. She’d bent rules and crossed lines more mes than she
cared to admit. But even she had limits.
$200,000…
That figure had been impossible to ignore. When Uncle Seye and
Aun e Mildred offered her the job of serving as their pawn—using her
proximity to Gbenga to influence his decisions in the oil deal—it had
been hard to say no, especially when they laid out everything they
were offering: an annual salary three mes what she currently made,
all expenses covered, a luxurious apartment, an official car, and the
chance to pay off her Harvard loansl—it was everything she needed to
get ahead. All she had to do was get close to Gbenga and use her
influence, as subtle as possible, to ensure that Uncle Seye got a seat on
the board of the Chinese oil deal. They knew Chief Ayo-Douglas was
unlikely to choose him, but Gbenga? He could make that happen.
So, she took the deal.
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As she unpacked, her mind wandered back to the first mee ng with
Gbenga. He had been nothing but kind, speaking to her with a warmth
that wasn’t forced. He was genuinely a good man, and that made her
task all the more difficult. She gave an inward sigh as she moved to the
window, staring out at the city skyline. She could s ll hear Aun e
Mildred’s words in her ear: Just get close and influence his decisions.
This is business. There’s no harm in that.
No harm, she thought bi erly. But wasn’t there?
As much as she tried to convince herself this was just another job,
there was something about the situa on that gnawed at her. Precious
had taken the place Agnes could have had, the life she had dreamed
about. She had heard enough from Aun e Mildred about how Gbenga
had fallen for Precious in an instant, how their love had blossomed so
quickly. If only... she thought. If only I had met him first. If only I had
been at the right place at the right me. The thought churned in her
stomach, a dull ache of jealousy. Time and chance had played their
cards, and Precious had won. But now, she was in a beau ful
apartment with a chance to be close to Gbenga.
She turned and stared at her reflec on in the mirror. Was it so terrible
to want more? Was it so bad to imagine that things could be different?
She had always prided herself on her intelligence and her ability to
make things happen. If there was one thing she knew about Gbenga
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Ayo-Douglas, it was that he valued intellect. He had seen something in

her, something that had made him choose her for this job. That was
real. He needed her. And who knew? Maybe he would need more than
just her skills as a businesswoman. Agnes shook her head, pushing the
thoughts away.
I’m not the other woman. I’ll never be that.
But the thought lingered.
She walked over to the small desk in the corner of the room and
opened her laptop. If she was going to do this, she needed to focus on
the task at hand. She had a proposal to finalise for Gbenga—her first
real task in this new posi on, and she needed to impress him, not just
with her knowledge, but with her execu on.
Fingers crossed, Gbenga. You could s ll be mine. I just don’t know how.
328
CHAPTER TWENTY
Precious woke up to the sound of the alarm blaring from her phone. It
was 6 a.m, and her heart skipped with excitement. Today is Gbenga’s
first day back at work. She had been planning the perfect breakfast for
him, wan ng to make sure he started the day right. Without a second
thought, she jumped out of bed, too excited to snuggle back into the
sheets. But as she rolled over, expec ng to find her husband s ll
beside her, she realised his side of the bed was empty. Odd, she
thought, but she shrugged it off as she headed for the kitchen,
assuming he was in another room, ge ng ready.
The kitchen was already stocked with all the things she had brought
from Nigeria. Gbenga had laughed at the sheer volume of her
groceries when they arrived—dried fish, tubers of yam, bunches of
plantain, seasoning cubes, and spices.
“You know we have Nigerian markets here, right?” he had teased,

watching her unpack box a er box of Nigerian delicacies, but Precious
wasn’t taking any chances. She wanted to have everything she needed
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at her finger ps, and it comforted her to have these familiar

ingredients in a new place. Now, standing in the kitchen, she grinned
to herself, pulling out the dried fish as she prepared to make one of
Gbenga’s favourite dishes—yam po age with a twist of her special
seasoning. The smell of spices filled the air as she bustled around the
kitchen, chopping vegetables and humming to herself. The
excitement of their life together was s ll so fresh—being his wife,
taking care of him, crea ng li le moments like this. It made her heart
swell.
He’s going to love this, she thought when she finished, and started
serving the food with care. She had bought special dinnerware from
Nigeria just for moments like this when she could make a simple
mealfeel special. Everything was in place by the me the clock neared
8 a.m, but as she looked around, something was s ll missing.
“Gbenga?” she called out into the quiet apartment.
No answer.
A slight frown creased her forehead. She had been cooking for almost
two hours, and Gbenga hadn’t shown up yet. Where is he?
She had thought he would be awake by now. Curious, she grabbed her
phone and dialled his number.
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“Hey, babe,” Gbenga’s deep voice came through the line. “Are you
awake?”
“Yes, but where are you?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and
confusion. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Oh,” he said, almost apologe cally. “I’ve gone to work.”
“What?” she gasped, her eyes widening. “I woke up at 6 a.m, and you
were already gone? You didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, some days I leave really early. Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb
you.”
“Before 6 a.m early?” She felt a pang of disappointment in her chest.

“But I wanted to make you breakfast. I’ve been cooking for two hours,
Gbenga!”
“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, a so chuckle in his voice. “I didn’t know

you were planning to spoil me.”
“Well,” she said, hands on her hips, “you’re going to eat breakfast. I’m
bringing it to your office.”
“Oh, no, babe, I can just grab something,” he said quickly.
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Gateway To Heaven
“Gbenga,” she said, her voice firm, “I did not make all this food just for
you to tell me you’re not ea ng it.”
He laughed, sensing her determina on. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. It

would actually be nice to see you. I have a small window between
11:30 and 12 for a break. You can come by the office then. My PA will
bring you up.”
Precious smiled, feeling a bit be er. “Good. I’ll be there by 11, and
you’d be er be ready for a proper meal.”
“Deal,” he said, his voice filled with affec on. “I can’t wait.”
A er hanging up, Precious looked back at the food and grinned. Now
that she was delivering it to him at the office, it needed to be even
more impressive. She quickly got back to work, deciding to add more
dishes to the meal. She grabbed the special food warmer she had
brought from Nigeria, carefully placing the food inside. Everything had
to be perfect. With a final glance at the table, she rushed to her room
to find the perfect ou it. I can’t go to his office looking like I just woke
up. She wanted to look polished, like the perfect wife. But as she
sorted through her clothes, the minutes cked away faster than
expected.
It’s almost 11 o’clock!
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Precious scrambled, finally grabbing a sleek ou it that she hoped

would look impressive enough for the corporate world. She slipped on
her shoes, glanced at her reflec on, and grabbed the food containers.
As she rushed downstairs to meet the driver, she felt a wave of
excitement and nervousness.
This is going to be perfect.
Precious was ushered into Gbenga’s office by his personal assistant, a

bit out of breath a er hurrying through the building. She glanced at
the clock—it was already 11:40a.m. She was late. To her relief, Gbenga
wasn’t there. She sighed, glad that she hadn't kept him wai ng.
The office was s ll as immaculate as she remembered, the sleek

furniture and large windows giving it an air of authority. Walking in,
Precious couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It was here, in this
very space, that they first met. The memory played out in her
mind—how she had nervously entered his office, holding a pile of
samples, and how his eyes had met hers with a reassuring smile.
Everything’s going to be alright, he had said, offering her food to calm
her nerves. And now, here she was, bringing him food. It felt like a full-
circle moment, and the thought brought a smile to her face.
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She se led into one of the leather chairs, the food container si ng on
the desk in front of her. As the minutes cked by, she checked the
mel—12:00. Then 12:30. Should I text him? she wondered, her
fingers hovering over her phone. She hesitated, not wan ng to disturb
him if he was in the middle of something important.
By 1:00 p.m, the office s ll felt eerily quiet, and there was no sign of his
PA either. Precious’s stomach ghtened with unease. She finally sent
Gbenga a message, asking if he was on his way, but there was no
response. She waited a li le longer, her op mism fading as the
minutes stretched on. By 1:30 p.m, she couldn’t take it anymore. She
stood up and decided to leave the office, feeling awkward and unsure
of what to do next. As she wandered through the hallways, she
stumbled upon the conference room—and there he was.
Gbenga sat in front of mul ple screens, Excel spreadsheets covering

every inch of the monitors. His brows were furrowed in concentra on
as he worked through the numbers, and next to him was Agnes,
leaning slightly over his shoulder, poin ng out figures on one of the
spreadsheets. She was dressed in a sharp business suit, but Precious
no ced the subtle reveal of cleavage from her camisole underneath. A
wave of discomfort washed over her, but she tried to push it aside.
Something about this isn’t right, she thought, even though she
couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Why didn’t he tell me he was in the
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middle of a mee ng?
As she stood in the doorway, feeling out of place, she wondered if she
had made a mistake by coming during work hours. She didn’t want to
be the jobless wife bothering her husband at work, and it felt like she
was intruding. Just as she turned to leave, Gbenga’s eyes darted up
and locked onto hers. His expression immediately shi ed.
“Oh my God, me is gone,” he mu ered, standing up quickly. Precious

tried to leave before he could say anything, but he was already
hurrying toward her, leaving Agnes behind in the conference room.
“Babe, I am so sorry,” he said, reaching for her arm as they walked back
into his office.
Precious forced a smile, trying to hide her disappointment. “It’s fine,

Gbenga. You had work to do. It’s no big deal.”
“No, it is a big deal,” he insisted, looking genuinely remorseful. “I lost

track of me. I’m really sorry.” He glanced at his PA, who had appeared
in the doorway. “In thirty minutes, you come and get me. Not a second
more, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” the PA replied du fully.
Gbenga turned back to Precious, giving her a full-blown kiss on the
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lips. She laughed so ly. “You’ve got lips ck on you now.”
He grinned. “Good. It’s my badge of honour. I’m proud to wear it.”
That made Precious’s heart lighten. “Okay, you’re forgiven,” she said,
feeling her mood li .
“Give me thirty minutes, babe. I just need to wrap things up, and then
I’m all yours,” he promised.
Precious smiled as she watched him head back into the conference
room, her earlier unease fading slightly. But as she sat down, wai ng
for the me to pass, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that
something wasn’t right with Agnes. She trusted Gbenga, but that
nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
Gbenga glanced at his watch, eyes dar ng between the clock and the
numbers on his screen. He had promised Precious thirty minutes, but
now it was an hour and coun ng.
He sighed, knowing that the mee ng with the manager from China
was important, but he also didn’t want to keep her wai ng any longer.
It was rude
336
The door to the conference room creaked open slightly, and Agnes
leaned in. “They’re wrapping up now. You’ll be able to meet Mr. Liang.
He’s excited about the next phase of the partnership.”
Gbenga nodded, grateful but a li le frustrated. “Thanks, Agnes.”
He couldn’t delay the mee ng, not when everything was so delicately
balanced with their Chinese partners. It would be disrespec ul. And
they had come too far to make any mistakes, but s ll he knew he
needed to see Precious. He rushed back to his office, where she sat
pa ently, scrolling through her phone. Her eyes flickered up when he
entered.
“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he began, sounding genuinely apologe c. “I need

another hour. Mr. Liang, the manager from China just arrived, and I
can’t leave just yet.”
Precious gave him a small smile, trying her best to be understanding.

“It’s okay, I know it’s important.”
Gbenga felt a mixture of gra tude and guilt. He leaned down and
kissed her forehead. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
“But, Gbenga,” Precious said so ly, “please don’t forget to eat. It’s
weird that you haven’t eaten all day when you’re not even fas ng. I
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brought the food for a reason.”
He chuckled, feeling the warmth of her care. “You’re right. I’ll eat, I
promise.”
As she stood up to leave, he lovingly ushered her to the door, holding

her hand as they walked through the hallway. “I’ll make it up to you,”
he said quietly. “I promise.”
Precious squeezed his hand. “I know you will.”
Just as they reached the exit, Gbenga’s PA called a er him, reminding

him of the me. He sighed, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Go home, get
some rest. I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright,” Precious said, her heart lightened by his affec on. “Take care
of yourself.”
As Gbenga watched her leave, he felt a pang of regret. I’m going to fix

this, he told himself, unaware of Agnes, who stood by the conference
room, watching the exchange with a small smile playing on her lips.
Her mind was already working on her next move. Precious was an
a erthought—someone who didn’t understand how to navigate this
world; a meddling wife with no real place in Gbenga’s orbit. Gbenga
would need her more than he would ever need Precious, and she was
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determined to make him realise it.
Precious stepped through the front door, immediately struck by the

unfamiliar bustle. Earlier, when she had le , the house had been
peaceful with just the housekeeper quietly tending to the home. But
now, there was a different energy in the air. She paused, no cing
someone moving in the kitchen, the so hum of conversa on dri ing
in from outside. Curious, she approached the housekeeper. “Who are
all these people?” she asked, her voice laced with confusion.
The housekeeper looked up with a warm smile. “Oh, they’re the new
staff, ma. They were hired in advance, but today is their first day. We
have the cook in the kitchen, the gardener is outside, and of course,
I’m s ll the housekeeper. We’ll be happy to formally introduce
ourselves whenever you’re ready.”
Precious blinked, taking in the new reality. “New staff?” she repeated,
more to herself than to the housekeeper. “All these people? It’s just
the two of us…”
The housekeeper chuckled so ly, clearly accustomed to this kind of

household structure. “Yes, ma. They’re here to make things easier.”
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Precious nodded absentmindedly, feeling overwhelmed. “I’ll meet

them later,” she said quietly, already making her way upstairs.
As she entered her bedroom, the enormity of it all hit her. Cook?
Gardener? All of this for just the two of us? she thought, si ng down
on the edge of the bed. It was almost surreal, like stepping into
someone else’s life. She stood up and began to change into something
more comfortable—a pair of shorts and a simple tank top—but her
thoughts kept racing. Is this what life is going to be like now?
Surrounded by people, always catered to, but not doing anything of
my own? She shook her head slightly, trying to dismiss the thoughts.
Gbenga was used to this kind of life. This is normal for him, she
reasoned. And it’s not like luxury is a bad thing, right? She could live
with it. She could adjust.
But as she sat back down, she felt a heaviness se le over her. What
was she really doing here? Yes, she had married the love of her life,
and yes, she was grateful for all the blessings. But she had dreams,
too—dreams that didn’t involve just staying home and being catered
to by a house full of staff. She wanted more. She needed more. Her
thoughts dri ed to her calling, to the path she had believed God had
set before her. Being an air hostess was meant to be part of that. It was
supposed to help me fulfil my purpose. But now, what am I? A
housewife? A socialite? She didn't want to be just a woman a ending
events, spending her husband’s money, and living in luxury. She craved
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something deeper, something purposeful. She dropped to her knees

beside the bed, folding her hands in prayer. Her voice was so , but her
heart was earnest.
“God, you called me a gateway to heaven. You said that my job as an

air hostess was going to help me fulfil that calling. Please, Lord, help
Gbenga understand. I don’t want to fight with him about this. He’s
under so much stress already with the work he’s doing for the bank
and his father’s business. I don’t want to add to that. But God, I know
you can change his heart. He’s your son. If you speak to him, he’ll
listen.” Her words flowed faster as the emo ons built inside her. “I’ve
been praying about this for so long, Lord, but his mind is s ll rigid. He
doesn’t understand why this is so important to me. Please, Lord, take
control. Show him what you’ve shown me. Help him to see that this is
my calling.” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she con nued
to pray. The silence in the room grew heavy, but Precious felt lighter as
she poured her heart out to God. “Lord, I trust you,” she whispered. “I
know you have a plan for us. Please, help us to align with it. I don’t
want to start our marriage with conflict. Guide me, Lord. Guide us
both.
The room seemed to s ll as she finished her prayer, the so light from
the window cas ng a glow over her bowed figure. She wiped her eyes
and rose slowly, feeling her worries li just a li le. But the uncertainty
s ll lingered.
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The lights of Addis Ababa twinkled against the dusk as Gbenga se led
into the back seat of his car. The so hum of the engine was a soothing
contrast to the long hours he had just spent at the office. It was 8p.m.
by the me he finally made his way out later than he had hoped. Agnes
had stayed behind to work with him on some urgent reports. Though
he had felt the pressure of me slipping away, he was grateful for her
assistance.
The food Precious brought earlier had saved him. He’d missed
breakfast and had hardly had me for lunch, so when he finally sat
down to eat the lovingly prepared meal at his desk, it felt like a lifeline.
Gbenga had made sure to enjoy every bite, savouring the fact that his
wife had thought of him. The food had been so much that he invited
Agnes to join him.
At first, Agnes hesitated, aware that Precious had made the meal
specifically for her husband, but Gbenga laughed, insis ng it was too
much for one person. She eventually relented, and as they ate, she
complimented him on Precious’s though ulness.
“She really is something special,” she said with a so smile, placing her
fork down.
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He nodded, feeling a deep sense of gra tude. “Yeah, she really is.”
Now, as the car sped through the slightly congested roads of Addis,
Gbenga tapped out a quick message to his wife.:
Babe, I’m sorry I’m late. I had hoped to take you out tonight, but work
kept me back. Don’t worry, we’ll make up for it soon. Hope you’re
doing okay.
He sent the message and leaned back, gazing at the lights flickering
through the car window. The city was alive, even at this hour. He could
hear the distant honking of cars, the hum of motorcycles zipping by,
and the cha er of people walking along the sidewalks. As his eyes
dri ed shut for a moment, a single word echoed in his mind, startling
him.
Selfish.
His brow furrowed. Where had that come from? He picked up his
phone again, hoping to see a reply from Precious. Nothing yet. The
lock screen s ll displayed her picture—her beau ful smile staring
back at him.
Selfish.
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The word came again, stronger this me. He frowned, his thumb
brushing over the screen, confused. What does that mean? he
wondered. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. She has
me. I’m here to guide her, to help her find her way. I’m sending her to
business school. I want to set her up for success.
But then the ques on came like a whisper in the wind: Whose path are
you leading her on? Yours, or hers?
Gbenga’s grip ghtened around his phone. He glanced out at the so

glow of streetlights, feeling a strange heaviness se le over him. “She’s
my wife,” he whispered to himself. “I want the best for her.”
Are you her Creator?
Gbenga took a deep breath, the weight of the ques on pressing

against his chest. He was a man used to solving problems, making
decisions, and leading people. But this was different. Was he leading
his wife toward something she didn’t want? Was he pushing her away
from her own calling? He glanced down at his phone again, expec ng
to see a response from Precious. S ll nothing. Instead, another
message flashed across the screen—from Agnes.
I totally enjoyed working with you today. You’re an incredible boss.

I’ve never seen someone so kind and focused at the same me.
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Looking forward to many more produc ve days ahead. Thank you for
a wonderful first day!
Gbenga chuckled so ly. Agnes was certainly sharp. The praise

reminded him of how lucky he was to have found someone so capable
for the posi on. She was exactly what the family business needed, and
her intelligence was undeniable. He couldn’t help but think, Where
has she been all my life? My work would’ve been so much easier if I
had someone like her years ago. S ll, his mind wandered back to
Precious. He typed another message.
Babe, are we good? You haven’t responded to my message.
He sighed heavily when there was no immediate response. This was

exactly why he had been reluctant to get married—the complexi es,
the emo onal terrain, the constant need to check in and consider
someone else’s feelings—it was a lot to deal with. He had thought it
would be easier to just focus on his work, build his empire, and leave
everything else behind, but Precious had come along and he knew his
life would be empty without her.
As the car neared their home, Gbenga felt the weight of responsibility
se le on him once more. He needed to figure this out. He needed to
balance the love he had for his wife with the career demands pulling
him in every direc on. Just then, his phone buzzed in his hand. He
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looked down, half-expec ng it to be Precious, but it was a work

no fica on. He sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
I just need to make this work, he told himself. For us.
Precious sat on the bed, half-watching the movie flickering on Ne lix,

but her thoughts were far away. It was already late, and she had hoped
Gbenga would be home sooner. The house was quiet, except for the
so hum of the TV. The comfor ng sounds from the movie felt distant
as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, which buzzed,
pulling her out of her thoughts. It was her sister calling. She answered
with a smile.
“Hey, sis.”
“Hey, you! How's married life trea ng you?”
Precious sighed so ly, se ling into the pillows. “It’s good... I mean, I’m
happy. I am. But—”
Her sister cut her off. “But it doesn’t sound like you’re happy. What’s
going on?”
“I’m happy when Gbenga is here,” she admi ed, her voice quiet.
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“When he’s not... I don’t know. Things feel off. I’m not sure what to do
with myself when he’s not around. He’s not even home yet.”
Her sister chuckled knowingly. “Sis, you can’t build your life around a
man, you know. What about your own goals, your dreams?”
Precious hesitated, bi ng her lip. “I want to focus on my goals, but I’m

wai ng for Gbenga’s approval.”
Her sister’s tone shi ed to something more serious. “Girl, try the age-
old trick of ge ng something from a man.”
“And what’s that?” Precious asked, curious.
“Give him a li le a tude. He is waltzing in late but not le ng you do

what you want. Give him some cold treatment. Let him know you’re
not happy.”
Precious frowned. “I’m not about to start figh ng with my husband.”
Her sister sighed. “Silent treatment is how women get what they want
from men. Trust me, it’s either you master the art of using silence as a
weapon or you suffer. If you keep being nice all the me, especially
with a man like Gbenga, who’s powerful and used to ge ng his way,
he’ll just walk all over you. Don’t let him.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Precious wasn’t sure how to respond. She doubted Jumoke would

agree with Hannah and thought of calling her to ask for her opinion
when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. She
glanced out the window. “I think he’s home.”
“Just follow my advice, you’ll see.” Her sister’s voice was confident,
almost teasing. “Don’t go all so on him.”
“Thanks sis,” she said so ly and ended the call, tossing her phone on
the bed. She returned her focus to the movie but felt a strange
discomfort gnawing at her. Silent treatment? Really? She shook her
head slightly, mumbling to herself. “Lord, please teach me what to
do...”
A few minutes later, Gbenga entered the room, his smile warm but
red. “How’s my baby doing?” he asked, his tone light.
Precious glanced at him briefly, trying to keep her face neutral. “I’m
fine,” she replied flatly.
Gbenga’s smile faltered. “You don’t sound fine. You’re not even
smiling. Come give me a hug.”
She shrugged, turning her a en on back to the TV. “I’d rather stay
here.”
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Gbenga’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer. “Did I do something

wrong?”
She sighed, her voice clipped. “Are you really asking me?”
Sensing the shi in her mood, Gbenga sat on the edge of the bed,
reaching for her hand. “Babe, let’s talk. I want to make you happy.
Please.”
She gently pulled her hand away, folding her arms across her chest.
“There’s no point talking. You do whatever you like anyway. You leave
whenever you feel like it without saying anything. You make all the
decisions, so what’s there to talk about?”
Gbenga’s shoulders slumped as he tried to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,

Precious. I didn’t realise you felt like this.”
She waved him off, her voice quieter now. “Please, just leave me
alone. Let me watch my movie in peace.”
Gbenga hesitated for a moment before standing up, defeated. He

walked to the kitchen, grabbed some water, and then disappeared
into the closet to change out of his work clothes. As she heard him
moving around, Precious’s heart began to ache. Lord, what am I
doing? Is this how marriage is supposed to be? She didn’t want to start
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a fight, but here she was, upset, and unsure if she was even handling
things the right way.
Gbenga returned a few minutes later, sliding into bed beside her. He
reached out to hold her hand, but she didn’t move. A er a few
minutes of silence, she spoke so ly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Gbenga, I’m not trying to fight with you. I just... I don’t know what to
do.”
She turned toward him, only to find that he had already fallen asleep,
his so snores filling the room. Precious stared at him, feeling strong
emo ons of sorrow pressing against her chest. She quietly turned off
the TV, slipped out of bed, and padded into the bathroom. Staring at
her reflec on in the mirror, she felt two warm tears slip down her
cheeks.
“Is this going to be my life?” she whispered to herself, her heart heavy
with confusion.
Precious lay on her side, staring at Gbenga’s peaceful face as he slept

beside her. The room was dark, except for the faint moonlight filtering
through the curtains. She couldn’t sleep. The drama of the day, her
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swirling thoughts, and her deep uncertainty were keeping her wide
awake. Suddenly, as if her gaze had the power to wake him, he s rred,
his eyes slowly flu ering open.
“Babe, you’re awake?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
“I can’t sleep,” she whispered.
Gbenga shi ed closer to her, his arms pulling her gently toward him,
cradling her face as he planted a so kiss on her lips. She kissed him
back, but lightly, her heart s ll heavy with worry.
“I don’t want problems in this marriage,” she murmured. “I want us to

be happy. I want to be there for you, but it feels like... like I’m a burden
some mes.”
Gbenga frowned slightly, his fingers gently tracing her cheek.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked, his hand sliding to her waist,
pulling her even closer. His eyes searched hers, concern wri en all
over his face.
“Your life makes sense without me in it,” she con nued. “It’s like
everything I try to do is stressing you out. I don’t want to be that kind
of wife.”
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Gbenga shook his head, pressing his forehead against hers. “Babe,
you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to make
everything perfect for you.”
“Then why does it feel like everything’s off?” she asked, her voice
nged with sadness. “I don’t even know if it’s because I’m bored or
because I just don't know what to do with myself.”
Gbenga sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I want
you to go to business school because I know you’ll have a role in the
family business. I thought it would give you purpose.”
“Business school isn’t a bad idea,” she replied, “but what if I don’t
want to work in the family business? What if I have a different
dream?”
Gbenga’s face ghtened, frustra on flashing briefly in his eyes. “What

dream, Precious? Being an air hostess? I don’t get it.”
She looked up at him, her heart pounding. “But Gbenga, we haven’t

even prayed about it together. Have you prayed about this as my
husband?”
He hesitated, his eyes so ening. “Yes, I have, and honestly, I don’t

know what God is saying yet. A part of me feels selfish, but I just want
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what’s best for you.”
Precious took a deep breath, her voice gentle but firm. “Do you trust
me?”
He nodded without hesita on. “Of course I do. But babe, we’re going
to start a family soon. How’s that going to work if you’re not around? If
you’re always on flights, who’s going to be with the kids?”
Precious’s eyes filled with tears. “But God is leading me to do this, and
I believe He’ll help us figure it out. We’re not supposed to have all the
answers. Our job is to obey and trust Him to make a way.”
Gbenga sighed deeply, wan ng to stay with his preference but

knowing that she made a strong point. “Okay,” he said finally, his voice
so ening. “Tomorrow, we’ll start looking into the training. I’ll support
you.”
Precious blinked, surprised. “Just like that?”
He nodded, his lips curving into a red smile. “I’ve thought about it
enough. If this makes you happy, then I want you to do it. And you’re
right—God will help us figure it out.”
Tears welled in Precious’s eyes again, but this me from joy. “I love
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you,” she said, emo onal. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever
known.”
“And you,” Gbenga whispered, pulling her even closer, “are the
sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”
He kissed her forehead so ly, his fingers grazing her neck. “So... do
you have energy for something else?” he asked, a playful glint in his
eye.
She smiled, her heart ligh ng up with joy. “I haven’t done anything all
day, of course I have energy. But you’re red, you should rest.”
Gbenga grinned, caressing her so ly. “Don’t worry, this will relax me.”
And with that, he gently leaned in, their lips mee ng again as the room
filled with a quiet, tender in macy.
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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Gbenga leaned back in his office chair, staring out of the tall glass
windows of his office. The Addis Ababa city buzzed with life below, but
his mind was on Precious. A er their conversa on the previous night,
he knew he had to make good on his promise to help her pursue her
dream of becoming an air hostess. As much as the idea s ll didn’t sit
right with him, he was willing to support her, hoping they could find a
common ground. He picked up the phone and dialled a number.
Moments later, his assistant walked into the room.
“You called for me, sir?”
“Yes, Felix,” Gbenga said, straightening up in his chair. “I need you to

reach out to someone from Ethiopian Airlines, preferably someone
who handles their training and recruitment. I want to secure a spot in
their upcoming flight a endant training program for my wife.”
Felixl blinked, slightly surprised, but nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. I’ll get in
touch with them right away.”
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“Good. Make it quick. I want to make sure she gets in without a hitch.”
Felix pulled out his phone and made a few calls while Gbenga waited.
A er a few minutes, he finally connected with someone on the other
end. Gbenga watched as he spoke in a low voice, nodding occasionally.
“Sir,” Felix said, covering the phone receiver, “I have someone from
the recruitment team. They’re going to give us details about the
training.”
“Put them on speaker,” Gbenga instructed.
Felix did as he was told, and a clear voice filled the room. “Good
a ernoon, this is Tesfaye from the Ethiopian Airlines recruitment
team. How may I assist you?”
“Good a ernoon, Tesfaye,” Gbenga began, his tone calm and

professional. “My name is Gbenga Ayo-Douglas. I’d like to inquire
about securing a spot in your next flight a endant training session for
my wife.”
Tesfaye’s voice carried an enthusias c tone. “Ah, Mr. Ayo-Douglas,

we’d be happy to assist. The training is a 12-week program held at our
training academy here in Addis Ababa. The next session begins in
about four weeks, and we’re currently finalising the candidate list.
Typically, candidates need to undergo an interview process and pass
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certain fitness and language tests.”
“I see,” Gbenga said, tapping his fingers on his desk. “Is there any way
to expedite this process? My wife is fully qualified, and I’d like to
ensure she secures a spot without going through all the usual hoops.”
Tesfaye hesitated for a moment before responding. “We do have

some flexibility for certain candidates, especially if they meet our
requirements. If you can send me her creden als, we could bypass
some of the ini al screenings. However, I can’t guarantee a spot
without a quick review of her documents.”
Gbenga nodded, his mind working quickly. “That won’t be a problem.

I’ll have her documents sent over by the end of the day. I appreciate
your assistance, Tesfaye.”
“Of course, Mr. Ayo-Douglas. We’ll make sure to expedite this for you.”
A er a few more pleasantries, Gbenga ended the call and turned to

Felix. “Get in touch with Precious and have her send over her
documents. I want everything done by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir,” Felix said, standing to leave.
Just as Felix exited the office, Agnes stepped in, her expression ght
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with concern. Gbenga immediately knew something was off. “We

have a problem with the Chinese deal.”
He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. “What now?”
Agnes stepped closer to his desk, placing a few papers down in front of
him. “I just got word that the chairman is unhappy with how things are
progressing. It seems like there’s been a miscommunica on between
the treasury department and the Chinese counterparts. I’m not sure
what exactly went wrong, but the chairman is not pleased.”
Gbenga groaned inwardly, feeling the weight of yet another crisis

landing on his shoulders. “Is this something you can handle alone or
do I need to get involved directly?”
Agnes hesitated for a moment, her eyes mee ng his. “I really wish I
could say I could handle it alone, but this... this might require both of
us. It’s not just a small hiccup; it looks like we may need to head to
China.”
Gbenga rubbed his temples, frustra on bubbling to the surface. He

had so much work to do at the bank, and now the family business was
pulling him in another direc on.
“So much for a smooth transi on,” he mu ered. “Alright, keep me
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updated. I’ll try to juggle things here, but let’s see if we can fix this
without a full-blown trip to China.”
Agnes nodded, though her expression remained serious. “I’ll do

everything I can from here, but we may have to prepare for the worst.”
Gbenga sighed again, feeling the pressure of both his professional and
personal life closing in. Leaving Precious so soon was not a good idea.
“Fine,” he said, his voice a bit sharper than usual. “Let’s get to work.”
Three Weeks Later
Precious stared at her inbox, barely able to contain her excitement.

The email from Ethiopian Airlines gleamed on the screen, confirming
her admission into the air hostess training program. She hadn’t
expected it to be so straigh orward—a few weeks of wai ng and a
simple call from Gbenga had seemingly moved mountains. She knelt
down, clasping her hands together as she whispered a prayer of
gra tude. Thank you, God. Thank you for working this out.
With renewed energy, she stood up and began to plan the evening
ahead. Gbenga had invited her to the launch of a new debit card the
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bank was hos ng via a cocktail party. Tonight, she thought, I’m going
to make him proud. Determined to look her best, she picked up the
Infinity Black Card her father-in-law had given her—something she
had never used before. Why not spoil myself?
She dialled the housekeeper. “Can you arrange for a makeup ar st and
stylist, please? I want to go all out.”
The prepara ons flew by as a team of professionals worked their

magic. Precious caught her reflec on in the mirror and gasped. The
black, shimmery dress was like liquid midnight, hugging her body in all
the right places. I’ve never looked this good—not even on Gbenga’s
birthday. She smiled, imagining his face when he saw her tonight. He’ll
be so proud.
As she walked into the bustling venue, Precious felt a wave of

excitement and nerves. The crowd was elegant, sophis cated, and full
of Addis Ababa’s finest. She had considered stopping by Gbenga’s
office to go in with him, but his assistant men oned he was finishing
up a mee ng. I’ll just mingle, she thought, willing herself to stop
feeling shy. Her eyes roamed the room, taking in the luxurious se ng
when she heard someone call her name.
“Precious! Over here!” It was Agnes, waving her over with a drink in
hand. “Wow, you look incredible,” she said, her eyes flickering with
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something unreadable. “Gbenga is going to lose his mind when he

sees you tonight.”
“Thank you,” Precious replied, smiling politely.
But before she could excuse herself, Agnes added, almost

o andedly, “It’s a shame we’ll be heading to China tomorrow. He’ll
miss you.”
The words hit her like a punch. China? Tomorrow? Precious blinked,
keeping her expression neutral.
“You didn’t know?” Agnes asked, l ng her head slightly as if in

apology. “I assumed he told you—it’s been in the works for a while.
Work is just so demanding for him these days, you know?”
Precious swallowed hard, willing her voice to remain steady. “No, he

hadn’t men oned it.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s just an oversight. He’s been juggling so much lately,”
she con nued, her tone light, but every word felt like a barb.
Precious forced a smile. “It’s fine.” She quickly made an excuse to step
away, needing a moment to gather her thoughts. When was he going
to tell me? she wondered, her chest ghtening.
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She didn’t have much me to think. She felt Gbenga’s presence before
she even saw him. His arms slipped around her waist from behind,
pulling her close. “You didn’t come to find me first?” he teased so ly.
“I didn’t want to interrupt your mee ng,” she replied, her voice more
clipped than she intended.
He frowned slightly, sensing something was off. “Baby, are you okay?
You look stunning, but you don’t seem yourself.”
She turned to face him, her heart aching with the weight of unsaid
words. “I hear you’re going to China tomorrow.”
Gbenga’s face shi ed with surprise. “Who told you that?”
“Does it ma er? Is it true?” she asked, her tone growing colder.
“It’s true,” he admi ed, his voice so ening. “I was going to tell you
tonight. I didn’t want to worry you before the party.”
Precious stared at him, feeling a surge of frustra on. “You didn’t think
I should know? You’re leaving tomorrow.”
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“I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he said, his hand ghtening

around hers. “I’ve just been trying to balance everything. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, willing herself to calm down. She didn’t want to fight, not
tonight. “Thank you for helping with the Ethiopian Airlines thing. I got
the acceptance le er today. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled warmly, pulling her even closer. “You’re going to be

amazing. I’m proud of you.”
But Precious couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling se ling in her chest.
She loved him, and he loved her, but there were cracks forming, ones
she wasn’t sure how to fix.
“Are we okay?” she asked so ly, her voice barely a whisper.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. “We’re more than
okay. I love you, Precious. And I’m going to make sure everything
works out.”
From across the room, Agnes watched, her eyes following their every
move as they swayed together on the dance floor, Gbenga’s hands
res ng low on his wife’s back. She didn’t need to destroy their
marriage—her power came from proximity and being indispensable
to Gbenga. All I need is me, she thought, her lips curling into a small,
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sa sfied smile.
The dim lights of the event hall gleaned off Gbenga’s sharp suit as he
took the stage, commanding the a en on of the room with his
presence. He held the microphone confidently, addressing the
audience with ease.
“We're thrilled to announce the launch of this new debit card in

collabora on with Mastercard. It’s an upgrade from our previous
product, offering more security, be er integra on with global
systems, and unique rewards for our loyal customers.”
As he con nued his speech, Precious stood near the back of the room,
feeling radiant in her elegant black dress as she mingled with some of
the guests, enjoying the admira on and compliments that came her
way. She was proud of her husband’s accomplishments and excited
about their future. She was however distracted from her thoughts
when a man approached her, his face vaguely familiar.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, his voice laced with
amusement.
Precious blinked, confused. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t.”
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“You’re even more beau ful than the first me I met you,” he said with
a smile. “It was at the airport. You had, what, five bags?”
Precious’s face lit up as she finally recognized him. “Oh my God! You’re
the one I bumped into!”
The man laughed lightly. “Yes, I am. I was in a rush for a mee ng, but I
couldn’t forget the beau ful woman I ran into that day.”
“Ah! I see,” Precious smiled politely, knowing he’d probably found out
she was his MD’s wife and was trying to suck up to her. He had been
unkind that day, dismissing her harshly even a er she apologised, but
she held no grudges. “Well, a lot has changed since then.”
“I can see,” the man said, his eyes flickering over her in apprecia on.
“So you were coming to see the boss then?” he asked with a curious
frown. “You didn’t seem like…”
Knowing he was going to say she didn’t look like someone who was
going to meet the MD of a bank, Precious quickly cut him off,
answering his ques on. “I didn’t know him at the me. I was working
for you guys during the anniversary, to plan it.”
“Oh, you were with the events planning commi ee.” Precious
nodded. “How did you catch the eye of the boss?” he asked, leaning in
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conspiratorially, “You must have made quite the impression.”
Precious con nued to smile politely even though the way he spoke
made it seem as if she wasn’t the type to get the a en on of a man like
Gbenga, and must have done something untoward to end up being his
wife. She was ready to excuse herself, and perhaps, he sensed it
because he quickly brought out his phone.
“Can I have your number?”
Precious hesitated for a split second, feeling a li le awkward. Before

she could answer, a tall figure appeared by her side, Gbenga. He had
finished his speech and was watching the exchange closely.
“James, good to see you,” he said, his voice calm but sharp. He
extended his hand, but his eyes never le Precious.
“Oh, Mr. Ayo-Douglas, sir!” James replied, suddenly flustered. “I was

just reconnec ng with your wife. I met her on her first day in Ethiopia,
right?” he said, smiling in a familiar way at Precious, who gave him a
ght smile. “She looks more stunning today than the day we first met.”
“I’m sure she does,” Gbenga said smoothly. “And you’re overstepping
your boundaries.” James’ smile disappeared as he blinked in shock.
Even Precious had not expected her husband’s blunt retort. “She’s my
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wife, not your colleague,” he con nued, giving him a no-nonsense

look. “And you would do well to remember that. Now, if you’ll excuse
use, I would like to have my wife all to myself,” he said curtly before
turning his full a en on to Precious.
James hurriedly excused himself, while Precious exhaled so ly, trying

to ease the tension. “Thank you for that, but you didn’t have to be so
harsh.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow. “Harsh? I wasn’t about to let some guy flirt
with my wife.”
Precious smiled lightly, trying to smooth things over. “I wouldn’t call it

flir ng,..”
“He was asking for your number,” he cut in, his expression darkening
slightly. “I don’t appreciate that.”
Precious lted her head, her smile growing playful. “Are you jealous?”
Without answering, Gbenga gently took her arm. “Let’s leave,” he

said, his voice low and commanding.
“What? But we haven’t even—”
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He cut her off with a smirk. “You didn’t dress up this beau fully just for
the event, did you? I thought you said you dressed up for me. But now
it seems you’re enjoying all this a en on.”
Precious laughed so ly, but there was a slight edge to it. “I did dress up
for you, Gbenga, but for you at the event.”
“Well,” he whispered, leaning in close, “we’re about to spend some

me apart with you going to your training and me heading to China.
Let’s make the most of the me we have le .” His hand grazed the
small of her back, sending shivers down her spine.
Precious sighed, half-annoyed but fully aware of the chemistry

between them. “Gbenga, I am not going anywhere yet. Let’s enjoy this
party,” she said and dragged him to the dance floor, where he pulled
her close, obviously marking his territory, making Precious smile. She
loved the possessiveness.
Later, when they le the party hand in hand, Agnes watched from
across the room, her eyes narrowing slightly. She had intended to s r
trouble, but something told her she didn’t need to. They looked
happy, but they were too different to be truly happy. I don’t need to
break them apart. I just need to be close enough to p the scales when
the me is right.
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CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Weeks Later
The makeshi office in Beijing was func onal but not nearly as grand
as Gbenga was used to back home. Papers were sca ered on the long
desk, along with blueprints, spreadsheets, and project outlines in
both English and Mandarin. Gbenga rubbed his eyes, feeling the stress
of being awake for nearly 48 hours. The project was proving more
complex than expected, not because of the technical aspects, but
because of the distance, me zones, and language barriers. As he
typed furiously on his laptop, his phone buzzed. Dad flashed across
the screen. Gbenga took a deep breath and answered.
“Son," Chief Ayo-Douglas’s voice boomed through the line. "How's it

going in Beijing? I thought you told me everything was locked in.”
Gbenga sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's the language
barrier, Dad. It’s more challenging than we an cipated, but we're
ge ng there. I’m already here to sort things out.”
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His father’s voice so ened. "I’m coun ng on you, son. You are my best
bet for this deal. And by the way, we’re pu ng together the board of
trustees for the project. I've selected a few people, but you have a
chance to nominate someone. Let me know if you have anyone in
mind."
"Okay, I’ll think about it.”
"Good. Keep me updated. And Gbenga—don’t wear yourself out.”
As the call ended, Agnes, who had been quietly listening from across
the room, perked up. “Anything I can help you with, boss?” she asked,
l ng her head slightly, her tone smooth.
Gbenga leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “My dad just
asked me to nominate someone for the board. I’m drawing a blank,
though. It’s a cri cal project, and I don’t want to mess it up by picking
the wrong person.”
Agnes made a show of thinking, her finger lightly tapping her chin.
“What about Mr. Seye?”
Gbenga chuckled, shaking his head. “Aun e Mildred’s husband?”
“Yes,” Agnes said, holding her breath for his reac on.
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“No way. That man is lazy. He doesn’t apply himself and has never
been responsible with money. He’s not the right fit.”
Agnes raised an eyebrow, trying to sound though ul. “Really? I always

thought he had poten al. He knows people and can navigate social
circles like no one else. Maybe there’s a side of him that could be
useful, especially with something as big as this.”
Gbenga scoffed. “My dad would never agree to have him on the
board. This is a mul -billion-dollar project, and Uncle Seye is known to
cut corners when it comes to money.”
Agnes leaned in, her voice persuasive. “S ll, maybe it’s worth
considering. If nothing else, he does have connec ons, and in a
project of this scale, that might be more valuable than you think.”
Gbenga sighed, glancing back at his laptop. “I’ll think about it,” he said,
though his tone implied he was far from convinced.
As they con nued working, one of the Chinese managers entered the
office to review the next steps in the project. Gbenga focused,
discussing details in a blend of Mandarin and English, but his
exhaus on was apparent. A er the manager le , Agnes turned back
to him, her tone now filled with concern.
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“Boss, you’ve been awake for two days straight. You need to relax,”
she said, stepping closer.
Gbenga waved her off. “No, no. I have to keep working. We need to
wrap this up.” Before Agnes could protest further, his phone rang. It
was Precious. A wave of relief washed over him as he answered.
“Babe, how are you?” he asked, his voice so ening immediately.
“I’m fine,” she replied, though her tone hinted at exhaus on. “How’s
China? Have you slept since we last spoke?”
Gbenga smiled redly, leaning back in his chair. “No, there’s just so
much to do. The project is—”
“Gbenga,” Precious cut him off, her voice firm but affec onate, “I’m
not hearing it. You need to get some rest. Just a few hours.”
He chuckled so ly, apprecia ng her concern. “Alright, alright. I’ll do as

you say, my lady and master.”
Precious laughed on the other end. “Good. Now go to sleep.”
As he ended the call, Agnes, who had been listening to the

conversa on with a smirk, raised an eyebrow. “It seems she’s the only
one who can get you to slow down.”
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Gbenga waved her off playfully. “What can I say? She’s got the magic
touch.”
Agnes’s eyes darkened slightly as she watched him walk out of the
office. He may think he’s in control, but before this trip is over, I’ll make
sure his focus shi s. That wife of his is far away, but I’m here—right
where I need to be.
Once Gbenga le the room, Agnes quickly pulled out her phone,
typing a message to Aun e Mildred:
The board selec on has come up. Gbenga doesn't think Uncle Seye is a
good fit, but I’m pushing. It’s 50-50. I’ll keep trying.
She smirked to herself, sa sfied with the progress she was making. It
wasn’t going to be easy, but she had a plan. By the me they le China,
she was going to make sure that Gbenga saw her in a different light.
It had been weeks since Precious started her training as an air hostess
and she found it rigorous but rewarding. Each day, as they taught the
finer details of safety protocols, emergency procedures, and
customer service, she felt at ease and found herself excelling. The
instructors were in awe of her quick learning and grace under
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pressure. “You’re a natural,” “You were born for this,” they said with
encouraging smiles, and Precious absorbed their words with pride,
but a small voice inside her couldn’t fully agree. She loved the training,
no doubt. Yet, something didn’t quite sit right. As much as she enjoyed
mastering the skills, she knew there was more to her story. That night,
a er an exhaus ng day, she returned to her room at the training
centre, her thoughts heavy with gra tude. Dropping to her knees, she
prayed fervently, seeking clarity from God.
“Lord," she whispered, her voice nged with the weight of her
ques ons, "I’m grateful for this opportunity, but is this really where
You want me to be? Am I truly fulfilling the purpose You have for me?”
She remained silent for a moment, wai ng for an answer. A peace

came over her, but there was s ll something—something she couldn’t
quite grasp.
Rising to her feet, she no ced a book lying on the small desk in the
corner of her room. She squinted, not recognizing it. She certainly
hadn’t brought it with her—or had she? She walked over and picked it
up. It was "Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to
Take Ac on" by Simon Sinek. A smile tugged at her lips as she realised
it was one of Gbenga's books. She must have packed it by mistake
when she was gathering her things.
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Normally, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Business

books weren’t really her thing, but something nudged her to open it.
She sat down on the bed, flipping through the pages. As she read, the
message of the book began to resonate deeply with her. It’s not about
what you do. It’s about why you do it. The words echoed in her heart.
The more she read, the more it s rred something inside her. She
realised that the why was more important than the how. Then it hit
her like a burst of clarity she hadn't expected. She closed the book and
stared at the wall, her mind racing with thoughts.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. "I get it now.”
She was on this journey not because she was meant to be a hostess,
but because God was showing her something bigger. The reason she
had been led here was not to simply do the job, but to understand it.
She was here to gain the knowledge so she could pass it on, to create
something far greater than just a career for herself.
What if I opened a training centre? she thought, the idea slowly taking
shape. A place where young people could be trained, equipped, and
empowered to become hostesses, just like I’m doing now?
The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. God hadn't given her
the full picture right away. He had only asked for one step of
obedience—a end the training. And as she obeyed, the vision was
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slowly being revealed. She began to smile as the realisa on

deepened. God doesn't always give you the full vision upfront, she
mused. He asks for obedience in the small things, and as you walk in
faith, the larger purpose begins to unfold.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she praised God. “Thank You, Jesus,” she
whispered. “Thank You for showing me Your plan, piece by piece. I
understand now. This isn’t about me being an air hostess. It’s about
training others. It’s about being a gateway to heaven for so many
people. I’m made for more.”
Precious couldn’t help but think back to all the doubts she had had
when God first planted the idea of becoming a hostess in her heart. It
hadn’t made sense to her then—why would the wife of a billionaire
need to get a job like this? She had felt so confused, wondering why
God was leading her down this path. But now it was clear: it wasn’t
about the job; it was about the journey. God had needed her to walk
this road to learn the cra and understand the industry so she could
eventually help others follow their dreams.
God, You truly work in mysterious ways, she thought, shaking her head
in awe.
The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. She was
meant to start a training ins tute where aspiring hostesses could
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learn the skills they needed, just as she was doing now. But her centre
would be different. It would be a place where people were taught not
only the prac cal aspects of the job, but also the heart of service that
came from knowing Christ. This was what being a Gateway to Heaven
truly meant, she realised. It’s not just about me; it’s about crea ng a
legacy, a space for others to find their calling.
Overcome with emo on, she fell to her knees again, this me with a
new prayer in her heart. "Thank You, Lord, for revealing this to me. I
trust You, and I will follow Your lead. Help me to build this vision into
reality.”
She prayed long into the night, her spirit alight with purpose. As she
prayed in tongues, she felt God’s assurance that she was on the right
path. The joy and peace she felt were beyond words, and eventually,
exhaus on overtook her. She glanced at the clock—it was already 4
a.m, and she had only an hour before she needed to wake up for the
next day’s training. But Precious didn’t care. She dri ed off to sleep
with a deep sense of sa sfac on and purpose, knowing that her
future was clearer than ever.
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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
It had been seven long weeks since Gbenga last saw Precious, and the
me apart was beginning to take its toll. He missed her
desperately—the physical connec on, the emo onal bond, the easy
laughter they shared. Every day spent away from her in China,
finalising the deal, had only deepened the ache in his chest. He
wanted nothing more than to be with her, to close the gap that now
seemed to stretch endlessly between them.
Thankfully, the Chinese deal had been successfully sealed, with

contracts signed and locked in, making it impossible for their partners
to back out now, and he felt a sense of relief, knowing that the hardest
part of the trip was over. The board inaugura on was next, and though
the work was s ll far from complete, the most cri cal aspects were
behind them. However, before he could rush off to Ethiopia to reunite
with Precious, his father had insisted that he return to Nigeria first.
Gbenga had sighed at the request. The thought of yet another delay in
seeing his wife gnawed at him, but he understood his father's posi on.
The man had been deeply involved in the process, and it made sense
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to regroup and assess the next steps together.
He was grateful that Precious had something meaningful to keep her

busy during his absence. The air hostess training had been a blessing
in disguise. If she hadn’t been preoccupied with the training, her
loneliness might have made him feel too guilty to leave his young wife
behind in a city where she didn’t really have friends. God had nudged
me in the right direc on, he thought, relieved that he'd finally agreed
to support her.
The private jet touched down at Murtala Muhammed Interna onal

Airport, and Gbenga felt a mixture of exhaus on and an cipa on. His
mind was already in Ethiopia with Precious, but duty called first in
Lagos. As the car made its way through the busy streets toward his
family home, Agnes sat beside him, looking out the window. She had
proven invaluable on this trip. Her keen insights and sharp business
sense had been a game-changer in ge ng the Chinese deal over the
line, but despite her stellar performance, Gbenga had begun no cing
things—small things that made him pause.
The way she casually touched his arm or shoulder, the so laughs she
gave even when his jokes weren’t all that funny, the way her eyes
lingered on him a bit too long. He didn’t want to make too much of it,
but he couldn’t help but wonder: Was she flir ng? He thought of
men oning it to Precious—a er all, she was his confidante—but he
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hesitated. It would be too easy to misinterpret, and he didn’t want to

worry her unnecessarily, especially since they were already apart.
As the car pulled into his family’s driveway, he put these thoughts
aside. His mother was the first to greet him as soon as he stepped out
of the car, her arms wide open for an embrace.
“My son! Finally!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a ght hug. “It’s so
good to see you. You look red, but you’re home now.”
Gbenga smiled warmly. “It’s good to be here Mum, but home is where
Precious is.”
She cupped his face with both hands, studying him. “Don’t worry, your
wife has not run away. You will see her soon. Have you been ea ng
well? I doubt you got any good Nigerian food in China.”
“Mummy, what I really want right now is my wife,” he joked, but he

was speaking the truth.
His mother rolled her eyes, laughing. “You and this your wife, eh?
Don’t worry, I have a surprise for you inside. Come on in. We made you
pounded yam and egusi. It’s been too long since you had proper food.”
Gbenga’s stomach rumbled at the thought of the meal, but s ll he
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thought of Precious. He pulled out his phone and sent her a quick
WhatsApp message. Babe, I’m home. The flight landed safely. Miss
you.
A moment later, his phone buzzed with her response. I’m fine. Training
ended today. We had a party. I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you.
He smiled at her words, but a pang of longing twisted inside him. He

promised her he wouldn’t be in Nigeria longer than a week, and he
meant it. He couldn’t wait to hold her again.
His mother, no cing his distrac on, teased him. “Who are you tex ng
again? Come inside and eat! I’m sure China didn’t spoil you with
pounded yam.”
He chuckled. “Mum, trust me. If I could have anything right now, it

wouldn’t be pounded yam.”
Agnes, walking beside him, let out a small laugh, her eyes twinkling
with amusement. Gbenga caught the look but quickly turned his
a en on back to his mum. Focus, he reminded himself.
“Well, come on inside,” his mother con nued, tugging him toward the
entrance. “Mister, I-miss-my-wife. I’ve got something for you.”
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Agnes had heard it repeatedly throughout the trip: Gbenga missed his
wife. Every me his phone buzzed with a message from Precious, a
so smile would cross his lips, and he’d mumble something about how
much he wanted to be with her. She had quietly observed, her mind
racing. What if it wasn’t just Precious he missed? What if, in his
loneliness and stress, he was craving something else—something
more physical, more immediate?
She mulled over the idea, feeling conflicted. This could be her chance,
her only opportunity to seduce him while he was vulnerable. But the
risk was undeniable. If she failed, she could jeopardise everything she
had worked for: her job, her reputa on, the trust she had built with
Gbenga. Yet, her desire to win him over and take advantage of the
situa on grew stronger. What if this was her last chance? she thought,
nerves buzzing under her skin. The weight of her ambi ons made her
reckless. Her heartbeat quickened as she devised a plan, deciding that
tonight was the night she would make her move.
The mee ng with Chief Ayo-Douglas had gone surprisingly well.

Gbenga’s father had finally agreed to add Uncle Seye to the board
a er some convincing. Agnes had played her part masterfully,
reinforcing the decision and working alongside Gbenga to sway the
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older man. As the evening drew on, Chief Douglas had le for London,
leaving Gbenga and Agnes to e up some loose ends in his home
office. Now, she sat across from him, watching as he sent his final
emails and wrapped up the day's tasks. His focus on the work made
him look even more a rac ve to her—powerful and successful—yet
undeniably red.
She stood up slowly, walking over to his desk. Her fingers trembled as
she casually unbu oned the top three bu ons of her blouse,
revealing a hint of cleavage. “You look tense,” she said, her voice so ,
almost a whisper.
Gbenga glanced up from his laptop, his brows furrowed. “What’s

wrong with you? Are you okay?”
Agnes leaned on his desk, giving him her best sultry smile. “I just
thought... maybe you needed to relax.” She stepped closer, hoping
he’d take the bait.
He didn’t. Gbenga’s face hardened immediately. “Bu on up your

shirt,” he said firmly. “I’m a married man, Agnes. Even if I wasn’t, I
don’t swing that way. I’m a Chris an. You know that about me
already.”
Agnes’s heart raced, but she didn’t stop. This was her moment. She
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rushed to his side, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the tension in
his body. “I want you, Gbenga. We travel together and spend so much
me together, it would be convenient... I’m not saying you should
leave your wife, but maybe I could help you take the stress off.”
She leaned in, pu ng a hand on his cheek, trying to close the distance
between them. Gbenga recoiled, grabbing her wrist to pull her hand
away. He was about to speak when the door to the study burst open.
“Surprise!” Gbenga’s mother walked in, a beaming smile on her face,
followed closely by Precious.
Precious froze, her eyes widening at the sight before her—Agnes

leaning over her husband, one hand on his face, her blouse undone.
Gbenga stood rigid, s ll holding Agnes’s wrist in an a empt to push
her away.
“Oh my God,” Precious whispered, her face going pale. Her breath
caught in her throat as her mind tried to make sense of what she was
seeing.
“Mum, Precious—wait! This isn’t what it looks like!” Gbenga

stammered, his voice full of panic. But Precious had already turned on
her heels, rushing out of the room. “Precious, wait!” Gbenga called
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a er her, running out of the room, leaving Agnes and his mother
behind.
In the thick silence that followed, Gbenga’s mother slowly turned

toward Agnes, her smile gone. “What was that?” she asked, her voice
cold. “Are you two... Are you in a rela onship with my son?”
Agnes, her face flushed with shame, stammered. “No, no, it’s not like
that. We’re not— I just—”
“You just what?” the older woman snapped, her eyes blazing with
fury. “You think seducing a married man is acceptable? Have you no
shame?”
Agnes’s composure cracked. “I... I was planning to seduce him

tonight,” she admi ed quietly, tears welling in her eyes.
Gbenga’s mother took a step closer, her voice low and dangerous.
“Why? Why would you do this? You’re an intelligent, capable young
woman. Why would you demean yourself like this? You’ve
disrespected not only my son but yourself.”
Agnes choked back a sob, covering her face with her hands. “I... I
thought I could—”
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“You thought wrong.” Gbenga’s mother shook her head in disgust.

“My son loves his wife. He’s been missing her terribly, and now you’ve
ruined what could have been a beau ful reunion. If you’ve caused
irreparable harm to their marriage, I swear I will make sure you never
work for us again. You’ve jeopardised everything for nothing.”
Agnes broke down, tears streaming down her face as she collapsed
onto the chair behind her. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
“Well, it has happened,” Gbenga’s mum said harshly. “Now we have to

deal with the consequences.”
With that, she walked out, leaving Agnes to wallow in her own regret.
Precious stood in the garden, her back s ff with frustra on as the cool
night air wrapped around her. She heard Gbenga’s footsteps behind
her but didn’t turn. Her emo ons swirled—hurt, anger, confusion.
The sight of Agnes leaning into her husband with her shirt undone had
been seared into her mind.
Gbenga approached carefully, his heart pounding. He had to fix this.

“Babe, please let me explain.”
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Precious held out her hand, stopping him before he could get too
close. “Please, don’t touch me. I am red and hungry, and now, I’m
angry too. Is this what you've been doing?”
“Precious, no,” Gbenga’s voice was firm, but gentle. “You didn’t tell me
you were coming to Nigeria. What happened? Why didn't you tell
me?”
Precious let out a bi er laugh, s ll not looking at him. “If I had given
you a heads-up, you wouldn’t have been caught.”
Gbenga stepped closer, despera on creeping into his voice. “It’s not
like that. She was trying to seduce me. I was pushing her away.”
Precious turned, her eyes flashing with emo on. “How many mes
has she tried to seduce you, Gbenga? How many mes has she go en
irritated because you didn't give in?”
“Tonight was the first me, I swear, and nothing happened. I was
telling her off. If you had waited, you would have seen it.”
Precious crossed her arms, her frustra on deepening. “Really? How

convenient. I don’t know what to believe right now. But I’ll tell you
what—I’ve been talking to your mother. She called me yesterday, like
she has been doing every week, because we’ve been working on our
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rela onship. She men oned how much you missed me, and she
thought it would be a nice surprise if she sent a jet to bring me here.
But clearly, she misinterpreted your feelings.”
Gbenga sighed, his shoulders dropping. “No, she didn’t misinterpret

anything. I did want to see you. I do miss you.”
He made another a empt to hold her, but Precious stepped back,

holding him off. “Please don’t. You need to understand how this
looks.”
Gbenga’s heart ached. “Babe, you have to trust me. That woman,
Agnes, she’s never done anything like this before, I promise you.”
Precious’s voice was steady, but hurt laced her words. “That’s
convenient, Gbenga. So, what, I’m supposed to believe she just
suddenly made her move tonight?”
Gbenga stepped forward again, his voice cracking. “You’re hur ng me

by not trus ng me. You have to have some faith in me. I would never...
never touch another woman sexually.”
Precious’s eyes so ened for a moment, but her doubt s ll lingered.

“How can I trust you? Agnes is exactly your type. You know that as well
as I do. She’s ambi ous, brilliant, fiercely independent. She’s
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everything that I’m not. And maybe you didn’t do anything yet, but it
wouldn’t surprise me if that’s why she felt bold enough to try.”
Gbenga blinked, stunned by her words. He stepped closer, his eyes

locked on hers. “Precious, do you know how many ambi ous,
intelligent women I’ve worked with? Do you know how many brilliant
women I’ve met in my career? Why haven’t I married any of them?
Why did I marry you?” Precious remained silent, her gaze faltering as
Gbenga con nued. “I’ve met women like Agnes before; smart, driven,
independent, but none of them captured my heart. You did. From the
moment I met you, I was in love with you. People say love at first sight
is a fantasy, but I felt it with you. And even now, with just a few feet
between us, my heart is breaking because you don’t trust me.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she watched the raw emo on on his face,
his vulnerability tearing at her own defences.
“You are my type, Precious. You are my spec. Whatever you think
you’re not, you are exactly what I need, what I love. And as you
con nue to grow, evolve, and change, you will always be my type.
Whatever you become will only make me love you more. Agnes is a
great worker—brilliant, yes. But that’s all she is, a worker. She doesn’t
have my heart. You do.” Gbenga’s voice broke as he added, “Babe, you
are the only one who holds the key to my heart, and it’s breaking right
now because you’re ques oning me.”
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Precious’s tears fell silently as Gbenga's own eyes glistened with

emo on. She slowly stepped forward, closing the distance between
them. “I love you,” she whispered. “I trust you. It’s just... it’s so
awkward.”
Gbenga gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears.
“It’s not awkward. Just trust me. I’m so happy to see you.”
Precious smiled through her tears. “I’m happy to see you too. There’s
so much I need to tell you.”
“I can’t wait to hear it,” he replied so ly as he pulled her into a ght

hug, holding her close.
They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms,
feeling the tension ease away. A er a while, Gbenga pulled back
slightly, plan ng a so kiss on her lips. “Let’s go back inside. I need to
explain things to my mum too.”
Precious nodded, and hand in hand, they walked back toward the
house, renewed.
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Gateway To Heaven
As Gbenga and Precious walked into the living room, s ll holding

hands, Gbenga’s mum looked up, her face brightening immediately.
“Oh, there you are, my lovebirds,” she said, no cing their intertwined
hands. “I’m so glad you didn’t let that girl ruin things between you.”
Precious exchanged a quick glance with her husband then nodded at

his mum. “Gbenga explained what happened”
“What did he say?” she asked a bit cau ously.
Precious glanced at Gbenga again. She squeezed her hand gently then
looked back at her mother-in-law. “She was trying to seduce him and
he was pushing her off.”
Gbenga’s mom lted her head, assessing Precious. “And you believe
him?”
“Yes,” Precious said with confidence. “I trust my husband.”
“Oh, you’re such a blessing!” Gbenga’s mum said in relief, pulling

Precious into a warm embrace. “You’re the perfect girl for my son.
How did I not see this before?” She held her for a moment, a li le
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longer than Precious expected, and the gesture felt comfor ng. Once
the hug ended, Gbenga’s mum turned to her son, her tone growing
more serious. “That girl, Agnes, needs to stop working for you. And it’s
not just because of what she did tonight.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I agree, but what do you

mean?”
His mum's face darkened with a mix of anger and disbelief. “A er I le

her in the room,. Something told me not to leave just yet and stay back
a li le.” Gebnga and Precious exchanged a curious look as she
con nued. “I overheard her making a phone call. She was talking to
Mildred—apparently, she was planted in our lives to secure a board
seat for her husband.”
Precious’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Yes!” Gbenga’s mum con nued, the words coming fast now. “Agnes
said something about her job being at risk because she made the
wrong move tonight, but she also said she’d done enough to secure
Seye's posi on on the board, and she expects to be paid in full. These
people played us for fools.”
Gbenga sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “This is

messy.”
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Precious touched his arm. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
“It’s fine. We’ll deal with it,” he said, his voice low.
His mum wasn’t done. “I walked her right out of this house, you won’t
see her again. And I’ve already called Mildred—I told her that I’m
going to tell your father everything. In fact, I’m sending him a message
now, so he’ll see it as soon as he lands in London. It’s all over for
Mildred and Seye.”
Gbenga shook his head, s ll absorbing the news. “I can’t believe this.”
“They’re evil people,” his mum mu ered. “But enough of them. I’ll
leave you two to catch up.” She smiled knowingly and exited the room,
leaving Precious and Gbenga standing in the quiet living room.
Precious turned to Gbenga, her voice so . “I’m sorry. I know Agnes

was important for the work you were doing. What are you going to
do?”
Gbenga exhaled, then shook his head. “There’s always going to be

someone else who can step into that role. Like I told you, she was just
about the work, she didn’t mean anything to me—she’s replaceable.
You, on the other hand, are not.” Precious smiled, feeling a sense of
relief and warmth at his words. Gbenga’s eyes so ened as he stepped
393
closer to her, his hands trailing down her arms. “Now,” he murmured,
his voice dropping low, “how about you show me just how much you
missed me? Because trust me, baby, I missed you. And my body misses
you too.”
Precious blushed, trying to step away playfully, but Gbenga caught

her, sweeping her up effortlessly in his arms. “Gbenga!” she squealed,
laughing.
But he was already carrying her toward the bedroom, a teasing grin on
his face. “You’re not ge ng away that easily.”
Three days later
Gbenga and Precious sat side by side in the private jet, cruising
through the clouds on their way back to Ethiopia. The hum of the
engines was a soothing backdrop as the two of them sat in
comfortable silence, le ng the pressure of the past few weeks fall
away.
The flight a endant approached with a polite smile. “What would you
like to have?”
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Precious glanced at Gbenga before replying, “Apple juice, please.”
Gbenga raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Apple juice? Since

when?”
Precious smiled playfully, a glint in her eyes. “Things change.”
He chuckled, leaning back, s ll studying her. “Hmm, Apple juice, huh?

Interes ng.” But just as he was about to make a teasing comment, his
tone turned more serious. “Can you believe my mum this morning?
The way she dealt with Aunty Mildred and Uncle Seye was something
else.”
Precious giggled, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress. “She
really did handle it, didn’t she?”
Gbenga shook his head in disbelief. “I’m s ll in shock. The audacity,

driving to the house, trying to make Agnes the scapegoat! It’s so low.
What were they thinking? I can’t believe Aun e Mildred would hurt
mum like that for her own selfish reasons. She’s right to cut off all
forms of communica on with her; at least for now. And I think daddy
removing Uncle Seye from the board was the right call. How dare they
try to ruin our marriage?!”
”Precious placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Gbenga, you have to let
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go. There’s no space in your heart for unforgiveness. God didn’t let
them succeed, so why carry a grudge?”
Gbenga sighed deeply, her words se ling in. “That’s why I love you.
You’re my voice of reason. What would I do without you?” Precious
smiled warmly, taking a sip of her apple juice. Gbenga’s gaze so ened
as he con nued to watch her—the light in her eyes, the quiet
confidence she carried—something was different. “Wait, hold on,” he
said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You’re s ll dodging my ques on.
Since when do you drink apple juice? You’ve always hated it.”
She set the glass down, her smile turning mysterious. “I love how you
no ce every li le thing about me.”
Gbenga leaned closer. “Of course I do. You’re my wife. Every li le

detail ma ers.”
Precious took a deep breath, heart racing with the news she had been
holding in. She reached for his hand and said so ly, “Well… I’m
pregnant.”
Gbenga’s eyes widened in shock, and for a split second, he was

speechless. Then, as if the words truly hit him, he jumped from his
seat, pulling her up and wrapping her in a ght embrace. “We’re
pregnant? We’re having a baby?”
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Precious laughed, her arms around his neck. “Yes, Gbenga! Be careful!
Don’t squish me.”
He loosened his grip, cupping her face with both hands and kissing her
forehead, her cheeks, and then her lips. “I can’t believe this. This is the
best news of my life! How long have you known?”
“I found out two weeks ago,” she said, her voice so with emo on. “I
no ced I couldn’t tolerate orange juice anymore, and then there was
the dizziness. I thought it was the stress of the training, but something
told me to take a test. And here we are.”
Gbenga held her close again, pure joy radia ng from him. “Oh my God,
Precious, we’re going to be parents!”
As they se led back into their seats, Precious reached into her bag and
pulled out a folder, handing it to him with a grin.
“What’s this?” he asked, glancing at the tle. “Gateway to Heaven: A

Business Plan?”
Precious’s eyes sparkled as she explained. “A er the training, I

realised something. I want to open a training school for people who
want to work in avia on as flight a endants, cabin crew, anything
related to the air. But it’s not just about the technical skills, I want to
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teach them values, I want to equip them with kindness and grace, so
that every person they interact with leaves with an impression that
might lead them to Christ someday.”
Gbenga’s mouth dropped open slightly as he listened. “Oh wow,

Precious, that is a fantas c idea… And I almost stopped you from doing
the training. I didn’t see the full picture.”
Precious squeezed his hand. “No, you didn’t stop me. You supported
me. And God used this to show me my path. The training wasn’t for me
to be a flight a endant—it was to learn how to build something that
helps others grow.”
He nodded, awe and pride filling his voice. “Obeying God really is a
journey of faith. You take one step, and only then do the next pieces
fall into place.”
Precious smiled, her eyes welling up. “Exactly. I was never meant to
just fly. I’m meant to build.”
Gbenga grinned. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but this…
This is going to be incredible.”
Precious smirked, teasing him. “So, are you going to invest? Because
we’re going to need funding.”
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“Fully funded,” Gbenga declared with a laugh, pulling her close.

“Whatever you need, I’ve got you covered.”
Precious giggled, res ng her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for
always believing in me”
“I’ll always believe in you” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
The plane con nued its smooth journey back to Ethiopia, their
home—carrying not only their love but a new chapter filled with
purpose, faith, and family.
The End
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Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Thank you for spending me with Gateway to Heaven. This story isn’t
just a novel, it’s a testament to the power of divine guidance,
unexpected encounters, and trus ng God’s ming in all things.
Through Precious and Gbenga’s journey, I hope to encourage you to
open your heart to divine coincidences, to remain hopeful when life
feels uncertain, and to embrace God’s purpose, even when it unfolds in
unexpected ways.
There are four central lessons I hope you take away from this story:
1. Divine Encounters and Being in the Right Place at the Right Time
Life is o en about being posi oned for the opportuni es God places
before us. Precious and Gbenga mee ng wasn’t mere chance but a
divine coincidence orchestrated to fulfill a greater purpose. When we
maintain a posi ve a tude and stay open to the possibili es in our
current reality, we’re be er prepared to step into God’s blessings. Pray
for divine encounters and for the wisdom to recognise God-given
opportuni es. The most impac ul moments in life o en come when
we are exactly where God intends us to be.
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Gateway To Heaven
2. Embracing God’s Will Beyond Comfort
Precious learnt that following God’s will some mes requires us to step
into uncomfortable and unknown places. Trus ng His plans, even
when they challenge us, leads to growth and fulfillment. It takes
courage to surrender our own agendas, but in doing so, we experience
the fullness of His purpose. Proverbs 3:5-6 reminds us to trust in God’s
ways, which are o en higher than our own understanding.
3. Finding Purpose in Unexpected Places
Gbenga’s journey is a reminder that some mes God’s purpose doesn’t

align with our personal plans. Instead, it unfolds in moments and
rela onships we may not have an cipated. Even when life takes us
down unforeseen paths, God is s ll working, weaving each moment
into His grand design. The so-called “detours” are o en steps toward
the very purpose He has prepared for us.
4. Trus ng God’s Process Even When It’s Unclear
Both Precious and Gbenga had to exercise pa ence and faith as they
faced unknowns. God’s process o en involves seasons of wai ng,
growth, and refining. When we surrender to His meline, we find
peace and clarity. Remember, even when the road is unclear, God’s
plan for us remains good and sure (Jeremiah 29:11).
401
Prayer Guide
The journey with Precious and Gbenga is a story that invites us to

deepen our faith, stay open to divine opportuni es, and trust God’s
orchestra on of our lives. I encourage you to join me in prayer as you
reflect on these lessons, seeking God’s guidance and blessings for your
own path.
1. Prayer for Divine Encounters and Right Posi oning

“Lord, I ask for divine encounters and opportuni es to fulfill the
purpose You have set for me. Help me to be in the right place at the
right me, just as You posi oned Precious to meet Gbenga. Give me
discernment to recognise divine moments, and let my steps be ordered
by You, so that I may walk into the blessings You have prepared for
me.”
Scripture: Psalm 37:23 - “The steps of a good man are ordered by the
Lord: and he delighteth in his way.”
2. Prayer for Courage to Embrace God’s Will

“Father, grant me the courage to follow Your will, even when it feels
uncomfortable or challenges my understanding. Strengthen my heart
to say ‘yes’ to You, knowing that You are with me in every step. Help me
to trust that Your plans are always good and to surrender fully to Your
purpose for my life.”
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Gateway To Heaven
Scripture: Isaiah 41:10 “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be
dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will
uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
3. Prayer for Recognising Purpose in Unexpected Places

“Lord, help me to see Your purpose even in the places and moments I
didn’t expect. Teach me to trust that You are working behind the
scenes, using every encounter and circumstance to bring me closer to
Your will. May I embrace each day as part of Your divine plan, even
when I can’t see the full picture.”
Scripture: Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for
the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his
purpose.”
4. Prayer for Pa ence and Trust in God’s Process

“Heavenly Father, some mes I grow impa ent when I cannot see the
outcome. Help me to trust that Your process is refining me and that
Your ming is perfect. Keep me from rushing ahead or se ling for less
than Your best. May I have the faith to rest in Your presence, knowing
that You are guiding me.”
Scripture: Isaiah 40:31 “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew
their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall
run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”
403
5. Prayer for Clarity and Faith in God’s Timing
“Lord, I surrender my plans and desires to You. Show me the path You
have prepared for me, and let me find peace in knowing that Your
ming is perfect. Lead me by Your Spirit, and help me to walk with
pa ence, faith, and trust that You are direc ng my every step.”
Scripture: Proverbs 3:5-6 — “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and
lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him,
and He will make your paths straight.”
As you pray, may you find strength in knowing that God is guiding
every step of your journey. He is at work in ways you cannot see,
orchestra ng each moment for a greater purpose. Trust Him, remain
open to His leading, and embrace the divine encounters and
opportuni es He places in your path.
With love,
404
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gateway

Copyright @ Bolanle Olosunde-Jenrola 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,

The moral right of Bolanle Olosunde-Jenrola to be identiﬁed as

This is a work of ﬁction. Names, characters, business, places,

Edited by: Temitope Bolade-Akinbode

To my amazing husband, Olatunbosun Jenrola, thank you for being

A huge thank you to my wonderful editor, Temitope Bolade-

I’m also incredibly grateful to my stellar Bon Storytelling Agency

To my dear mother, Ayoola Olosunde, thank you for reading every

Gbenga Ayo-Douglas stood by the ﬂoor-to-ceiling window of his oﬃce,

mentor, Mr. Dapo Olatunji, an Execu ve Director at the bank, had

Ethiopia was one of Africa’s fastest-growing economies, and Pinnacle

And then, there was his mother!

and even during his me at the London School of Economics, there

“Start mee ng her now! At least go on a few dates!"

His mother’s words reverberated in his mind even as the oﬀer to

marriage wasn’t exactly a model either. His parents hadn’t shared a

"God, what do you want me to do?" he whispered under his breath.

Silence ﬁlled the room.

Precious Adeleke smiled broadly as she stepped oﬀ the plane at Addis

“Hello, ma!” she said breathlessly, recognising Mrs. Cole’s number on

The man, dressed in an expensive suit, yelped in pain, stepping back

Precious’s heart lurched, panic spreading through her. “Oh my God,

Precious dragged the ﬁ h bag into the conference room, struggling to

"What is this you’re wearing, Precious?" she snapped, her voice

Precious blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I thought I could…”

"Thought what?" Omolara interrupted, her tone sharp. "That you’d

Precious fought to steady her breath, her heart hammering in her

Omolara scoﬀed, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous

Before Precious could muster a response, the door to the conference

“I saw some of those gi samples in Nigeria,” she said, ge ng straight

Precious hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with

“Hurry up,” Omolara snapped. “If you embarrass me again, consider

As they le the conference room, Omolara glanced at Precious’s a re

Every banker in the building moved with a sense of urgency, and as

She ghtened her grip on the container of gi items and focused on

Eunice, ever the professional, stepped forward with a bright smile.

The room fell s ll for a moment. Omolara, usually so sure of herself,

There was an awkward pause before Gbenga shi ed topics without

Gbenga’s eyes barely ﬂickered. “Comedy’s a good choice.” His

Just as he turned away, Precious felt the weight of the samples

The room went s ll.

Omolara’s face contorted in rage, her voice barely contained.

“Precious, are you kidding me? What is wrong with you?”

Eunice immediately turned to Gbenga with a forced smile. “Of course,

Omolara, clearly uncomfortable, fumbled for a response. “Yes, sir.

The two women exchanged glances and reluctantly le the room

“I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened. I—”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.

Her breath hitched. “I—I didn’t mean to, sir.”

He sighed, standing tall again. “Don’t worry about it. Accidents

Just then, her stomach growled loudly, cu ng through the tension.

Gbenga raised an eyebrow. “Have you eaten today?”

Precious nodded, grateful, yet s ll overwhelmed. “Thank you, sir.”

Gbenga returned to his desk, picking up his phone. “Take care of

“Calm down,” Eunice interjected, her voice ﬁrm but gentle, cu ng oﬀ

Omolara turned to Eunice, her expression incredulous. “Eunice,

Eunice smiled, her demeanour calm but conﬁdent. “Trust me,