The office buzzed with quiet energy — keyboards clacking, printers humming, faint chatter bouncing between cubicles. Golden sat at her desk, her phone pressed to her ear, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Heyyy baby," she cooed softly.
Xavier's voice came warm and deep. "Hello, angel."
She chuckled, twirling a pen between her fingers. "How's your day going?"
"Good," he sighed. "Just caught up with work. You?"
Golden leaned back in her chair. "I'm okay. Nothing much happening here today."
Before Xavier could reply, Favour's sharp voice sliced through the air.
"The boss asked to see you after the meeting," she said with a hiss, arms folded. "And the meeting starts in a few minutes, so get off that stupid phone."
Golden's smile faded. "Baby, I've got to go. I'll call you back."
"Is everything okay? Who was that?" Xavier asked, voice laced with concern.
" Nobody," she said quickly. "We'll talk later."
"Wait, Golden—"
But she'd already ended the call. She sighed, stood, and walked toward Favour's desk.
"Hey," she said calmly. "We need to talk."
Favour scoffed. "I have nothing to say to you, you sly witch."
Golden clapped slowly, smirking. "Witch? Wow… you love coming up with new names for me, don't you?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You're not important. You're nothing."
Golden tilted her head. "Really? Says someone who's clearly obsessed with me."
"Obsessed? Please!" Favour snapped. "I hate you so much, you can't imagine it."
Golden smiled faintly. "Oh, I can imagine it. It's all written on your face." She took a breath, her tone softening. "Anyway, I just came to say—we need to stop this cat-and-rat fight. You might not be tired of it, but I am. I want peace in this office, not chaos." She started to walk away, then turned slightly. "And don't forget—I'm your senior here. Next time you talk to me like that, I won't let it slide."
She walked off.
Favour stood frozen, fists clenched. "That imbecile," she muttered, crumpling a paper and tossing it into the bin.
⸻
Later — Meeting Room
The staff sat around the long conference table, papers spread, air cool and tense. The manager paced slowly, flipping through reports.
"I must say," the manager began, adjusting his glasses as he looked around the table, "you've all done well with the individual assignments."
His gaze lingered briefly on Golden and Favour, a knowing look passing over his face.
"I hope we keep seeing results like this. Consistency, people — that's what sets us apart."
A few staff nodded in agreement, murmuring quiet "Yes, sir"s.
He straightened a pile of documents and turned toward another section of the table.
"Alright, sales team," he said, tapping his pen lightly, "let's hear your report."
The room filled with the rustle of papers, the shuffle of chairs, and the low hum of voices as the sales lead began speaking. The meeting stretched on — numbers, charts, updates — until finally, after what felt like hours, the manager closed his folder with a soft thud.
"Good work, everyone. Meeting adjourned."
Mr. Adebayo's Office...
Golden knocked softly before entering. "Hello, sir."
Mr. Adebayo smiled warmly. "Golden! How are you doing?"
"Very well, sir. Thank you."
He leaned forward, grinning. "You didn't miss Xavier too much, I hope?"
Golden blushed, looking down. "I actually did."
They both laughed.
"Well," he said, picking up a file. "You'll be seeing him soon enough. I'm about to make that happen."
Golden blinked, confused but smiling. "Sir?"
"There's a contract to be signed in Lagos. Akin was supposed to handle it, but the board decided it's yours now."
Golden gasped. "Really? That's such an honor, sir!"
Mr. Adebayo chuckled. "Yes, yes. And you'll get the chance to see Xavier. It's been what—six months now? I'll send you his address. Surprise him."
Golden beamed. "Wow. I'm really grateful, sir. Not just for Xavier, but for trusting me with this."
"Don't mention it," he said with a wink. "Take the rest of the day off. Prepare for your trip."
"Thank you, sir."
She left the office, her heart bursting with excitement. Seeing Xavier again thrilled her more than anything.
⸻
Lagos – The Next Day
The city roared with life — horns blaring, street vendors calling out, the sun blazing over restless crowds. The air smelled of roasted corn and car exhaust, a chaotic rhythm that somehow made sense.
Golden stepped out of the building, clutching her bag. She pulled out her phone and dialed.
"Hello sir, I'm done. Contract's signed."
Mr. Adebayo's voice came through, pleased. "Good job. We'll talk more when you get back."
"Definitely, sir."
"Heading to Xavier's?"
Golden smiled softly. "Yes. Can't wait. Just waiting for my ride."
"Alright, kid. Enjoy."
She hung up, her pulse quickening.
⸻
Xavier's Apartment...…..
The apartment radiated quiet luxury — tall glass windows, cream-colored curtains, elegant wall art, and a faint scent of cinnamon and wood polish. On the center table were open documents, blueprints, and a sleek laptop.
On the couch sat a woman — curvy, striking, and confident. Her name was Diana, Xavier's personal assistant. Her legs were crossed gracefully, a file in one hand.
Xavier emerged from the kitchen carrying two glasses of juice. "Here," he said, handing her one before sitting beside her.
"Thanks," Diana purred, taking the drink. "You know, we've been at this since morning. Maybe we deserve a little break."
He smiled faintly, flipping through papers. "We can rest when we're done. We can't miss the deadline."
She leaned in slightly, voice sweet. "We definitely won't. You don't have to rush yourself, Xav."
"You can't be too sure," he murmured, still focused.
Diana smiled slyly. "So, Xav… because you've got a girlfriend somewhere in that small town, you're turning me down? You can't tell me you don't see all the green flags. I'm the full package."
Xavier looked up slowly. "Diana, stop. We're here to work, not mess around. And don't ever call my girl a village girl."
She smirked. "Relax. I'm not asking you to leave her. I just want a taste. Of you."
"Diana—"
Before he could finish, she grabbed his shirt and forced a kiss on him.
The door creaked open.
Golden stood there — suitcase in one hand, smile fading as her world shattered before her eyes.
Her voice trembled. "Oh my Goodness … what's this?!"
Xavier froze. "Golden?"
He jumped up, eyes wide. "Wait—I can explain! It's not what it looks like!"
Tears burned down her cheeks. "Screw you, Xavier! Screw you!"
She turned and bolted out.
"Baby, please! Let me explain!" He ran after her.
"Don't touch me with those filthy hands!" she screamed, backing away.
"Golden, it's not what it looks like. She—she...it was a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" she shouted. "You were kissing her!"
"No! I didn't—she just—"
"Shut the hell up, Xavier! You cheat!"
Her voice cracked under the weight of betrayal.
"Please, Gold," he begged, reaching for her arm. "Nothing happened, I swear—just listen—"
"I won't listen!" she yelled, stepping back. "I'm going back to Apu—and don't you dare follow me!"
"Gold, it's late—it's dangerous—please—"
He tried to touch her again, but she yanked her arm away.
She walked off, tears blurring her vision.
Didn't look back.
Xavier clenched his fists. "Fuck!!!" He turned to Diana, rage flaring. "You caused this. You ruined everything!"
Diana folded her arms, smirking. "Maybe it's for the best."
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" he thundered.
She rolled her eyes, grabbed her bag, and walked out.
Xavier ran outside the gate, scanning the street, hoping to see her. Nothing. Just the night air and the echo of his own heartbreak.
He dropped to his knees, whispering her name.
"Golden…"
But she was gone.
Golden runs to the roadside, tears blurring her vision as she waves frantically for a bus. One screeches to a stop, and she climbs in, sinking into a corner seat. The city lights smear into streaks of gold and red outside the window, but she doesn't see any of it—only the image of Xavier and that woman burns in her mind.
Her phone buzzes. XAVIER CALLING.
Then again. And again.
She stares at the screen, trembling, lips parted as if to speak—but nothing comes out. With a shaky breath, she silences the call.
A message arrives. Then another. Then ten more.
Each vibration feels like a knife. Finally, she switches the phone off, presses it to her chest, and buries her face in her palms.
By the time the bus stops, the night air has gone cold. She drags herself into a small hotel nearby. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, offers her a soft smile and a key without asking questions.
Golden manages a weak "thank you," then makes her way to the room. The moment the door clicks shut behind her, she drops her bag, slips off her shoes, and sits on the edge of the bed. For a moment, she just stares at the floor—silent, empty.
Then the weight of everything crashes down. Her chest tightens, her throat burns, and the tears she's been holding back finally spill over.
She curls into herself on the bed, sobbing quietly at first—then harder, until the room echoes with the sound of her heartbreak.