Chapter One
They say every love story begins with a spark. But this one? This one begins with broken pieces and desperate choices.
Elena
Elena Martins had once believed in happy endings. She grew up sketching wedding dresses in her school notebooks, imagining a future filled with love, laughter, and a home that smelled like cinnamon rolls on Sunday mornings. But Lagos had a cruel way of slapping the softness out of you.
Her father's stroke had left the family in financial ruin. Hospital bills swallowed their savings whole, and with him unable to work, the weight of survival fell heavily on Elena and her mother. She had a younger brother, Tobi, just fifteen, who was supposed to be focusing on his WAEC exams. Instead, he spent evenings begging her to let him drop out and work at a mechanic shop.
"No," Elena told him every time, masking her fear with a stubborn smile. "You'll finish school. You'll go to university. You'll make Daddy proud."
But inside, she wasn't so sure. School fees were overdue, the landlord had been banging on their door for rent, and she could barely keep up with her two jobs. In the mornings, she tutored spoiled children who mocked her accent; in the evenings, she waited tables at a noisy restaurant where customers felt entitled to grab her waist with greasy hands. At night, she sold thrift clothes online, haggling with people who argued over an extra ₦500.
She was exhausted, but what hurt most was the betrayal. Caleb—her first love, her supposed "forever"—had shattered her. She had loved him recklessly, supported him when he was broke, shared her secrets and dreams with him. And yet, she had walked into a party one night and found him pressed against another woman. Not just any woman, but her best friend.
That night, something inside Elena broke.
She didn't believe in love anymore. She didn't even believe in promises. All she wanted was stability—a roof that wouldn't collapse, a brother who could finish school, a mother who could breathe without worry. Not love. Just peace.
Damian
While Elena struggled to survive, Damian Adeyemi was drowning in privilege. But wealth didn't mean freedom—it meant chains of a different kind.
He was the only son of Chief Adeyemi, a man whose name carried weight in every boardroom in Lagos. The Adeyemi empire stretched across oil, telecommunications, and real estate. On the outside, Damian was the perfect heir: polished, ambitious, dangerously intelligent. He walked into meetings and people listened. His presence demanded respect, and his voice carried authority.
But behind the sharp suits and million-naira watches, Damian lived under a suffocating rule. His father's empire came with conditions. And the latest one was brutal:
"Marry before the end of the year," Chief Adeyemi had thundered one night, his voice echoing in the grand dining hall. "Or I will hand the company over to your cousins. They are already circling like vultures, waiting for you to fail."
Damian had clenched his jaw, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. "I don't need a wife to run the company."
"You don't get to decide that!" Chief Adeyemi's fist slammed against the mahogany table. "This family thrives on legacy. No heir, no marriage, no empire."
Marriage, to Damian, was nothing but business. Love was weakness—he had learned that the hard way. Years ago, he had given his heart to a woman who seemed genuine, only to find out she had been with him for money, for the Adeyemi name, for the luxury. She had betrayed him so smoothly it had taken months before the truth surfaced.
Since then, Damian built walls so high no woman could climb them. His relationships were shallow, temporary, carefully controlled. He didn't date for love, only for appearances. And yet, now, time was running out.
He needed a wife—not a lover, not a soulmate. A partner on paper. Someone who would understand the rules, play the role, and stay out of his heart.
Damian Adeyemi never lost. He didn't plan to start now.