Sandra lay sprawled on her bed, her body heavy with exhaustion and her heart weighed down by sorrow. Her tears fell relentlessly, carving wet paths down her cheeks as she clutched her cellphone, staring at the screen. A photo of James smiled back at her, a bittersweet reminder of the love they shared but were forbidden to fully embrace. Her bedroom, dimly lit by the soft glow of the screen, seemed to echo her despair. Suddenly, the framed photograph James had gifted her on her 25th birthday crashed from its place on the wall, the sound startling her out of her thoughts.
She turned her head sluggishly toward the source of the noise. Her body, already drained from crying, protested as she dragged herself out of bed. Her legs felt like lead, and every step was an effort. Her tears fell freely, dripping onto the cold floor as she approached the fallen frame. Kneeling down, she picked it up, her fingers trembling. The image of her and James beamed back at her—a snapshot of happier times. Her grip tightened on the frame as rsobs wracked her body once more.
"I thought life was all about money, glamour, and living the 'big girl' lifestyle," Sandra muttered to herself through her tears. "I never imagined I could fall so deeply in love, especially with someone like James. Of all people, he was the last person I thought I'd give my heart to." Her voice cracked, and her hands clenched the frame. "But now… his father—Otunba, the man who used to be my sugar daddy—is determined to keep us apart. I thought I had everything figured out. I thought being a 'baby girl' was the best way to live, but I was wrong—so wrong."
Her chest heaved as regret consumed her. "If only I had listened to my mother… if only I had chosen a different path. My whole life feels like one big regret," she lamented, her voice barely above a whisper. She placed the frame carefully on her bedside table, her gaze lingering on it as fresh tears blurred her vision.
Sandra had everything she'd ever dreamed of. She was a successful businesswoman, the proud owner of a luxurious car and a beautiful house. To the outside world, she was the epitome of success—a boss lady who had achieved it all. Yet, beneath the surface, her life felt hollow. The man she loved was just out of reach, held back by the iron will of his father.
The shrill ring of her phone cut through her thoughts, jolting her back to the present. She quickly grabbed it and saw James's name flashing on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat as she answered, her voice soft and strained. "Hey, James."
"Have you been crying?" James's voice was filled with concern, and Sandra's fragile composure nearly crumbled again.
"What else can I do?" she replied, her voice trembling. "Your father is determined to keep us apart. He refuses to let us get married."
James's tone was gentle but firm. "Sandra, you need to calm down. When two people are truly in love, no one—not even my father—can stop them."
Sandra sniffled, her tears slowing but not stopping. "What's the plan, James? How do we fight this?"
There was a pause before James spoke again. "I was thinking… maybe we could leave the country. Start fresh somewhere else."
Sandra shook her head, even though James couldn't see her. "That's not the solution. Running away from our problems won't fix anything. We have to face this and fight. Together."
"My dad is a stubborn man, Sandra," James admitted. "He's been feeding my mother all sorts of lies about you, trying to turn her against you too."
Sandra's voice broke as she responded. "This is all my fault. I messed up, James. I let greed blind me, and now I'm paying the price."
James's voice softened, his love for her evident in every word. "I'll come over so we can talk this through. Just hang in there, okay? I love you."
"I love you too," Sandra whispered. She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift back to the past to the life she once lived and the choices that led her here.
flashback
The memory was vivid, as if it had happened just yesterday. Sandra stood in front of her mirror, twisting and turning as she inspected her reflection. "This dress doesn't feel right," she muttered, frowning. "It's not sexy enough. I need Mr. Coca to notice me tonight. I need him to ask for more."
With a frustrated sigh, she walked to her wardrobe and began rifling through her clothes. Her hand paused as her eyes landed on a sleek black mini-dress. It was backless, form-fitting, and left little to the imagination. A smile crept onto her lips as she pulled it out. "Perfect."
In record time, Sandra stripped off her current outfit and slipped into the black dress. She admired herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. "This will definitely catch his attention," she said, her confidence soaring. She moved to her shoe rack, scanning her collection until her eyes settled on a pair of Gucci nine-inch heels—an extravagant gift she'd bought with Mr. Coca's money. The strapless heels were the perfect complement to her outfit.
Grabbing her mini handbag and her phone, Sandra peeked out of her bedroom. The coast seemed clear. Her mother was engrossed in her Bible, the pages rustling softly as she flipped through them. Sandra slipped off her heels, carrying them in her hand as she tiptoed toward the door.
But her mother's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Sandra," she said, her tone sharp. Sandra froze, her heart pounding as she turned to face her. Her mother's eyes traveled from her head to her feet, her disapproval evident. "Where are you going dressed like that?"
Sandra swallowed hard, scrambling for an excuse. "I… I'm going to visit a friend," she stammered.
Her mother's gaze didn't waver. "At this hour? And dressed like that?"
Sandra felt her frustration rise. "Mom, it's not a crime to go out with friends. I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."
Her mother's expression hardened. "Did you check the time? It's past 9 PM."
"Mom, you need to evolve with the times," Sandra shot back, exasperated. "I'm going to be late. Please, just let me go."
Her mother sighed, shaking her head as Sandra slipped out the door, her heels clicking against the pavement. She hailed an Uber and gave the driver the address of the nightclub. Her thoughts buzzed with excitement and anticipation. She was on her way to meet Mr. Coca—the man who had transformed her life.
Sandra entered the buzzing nightclub, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she walked past the crowd. The dim lighting danced across her shimmering black mini-dress, catching the attention of many, but one gaze in particular remained fixed on her—Mr. Coca. Sitting in the VIP section, Mr. Coca, an older man of imposing stature, watched Sandra with keen interest. The music thumped in the background, but his focus never wavered.
Sandra headed to the bar, her poise exuding confidence. She slid onto a stool and signaled to the bartender. "A glass of red wine, please," she said, her voice smooth and commanding. The bartender nodded, quickly serving her drink. She took a sip, her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around the glass.
From across the room, Mr. Coca couldn't take his eyes off her. Something about her aura—her effortless beauty and self-assuredness—drew him in. Determined to make his move, he stood up, adjusted his agbada, and made his way toward her.
"Hey there," Mr. Coca greeted, his voice rich and deep. He flashed a charismatic smile as he leaned against the bar.
Sandra turned her head, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Hello," she replied, taking another sip of her wine.
"You're absolutely stunning," Mr. Coca said, his eyes scanning her face and dress with approval. "So beautiful and… sexy." His words lingered, carrying a hint of flirtation.
"Thank you, sir," Sandra responded, her tone playful. "You're looking quite dashing yourself."
Mr. Coca chuckled. "May I have a word with you?"
Sandra nodded, tilting her head slightly. "Of course."
"Not here," he said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Let's move to the VIP section where it's quieter."
Sandra agreed with a soft smile, grabbing her glass as she followed him. They entered the roped-off area, where Mr. Coca's bodyguards stood at attention. With a subtle nod from him, they stepped away, giving the two privacy. Sandra took a seat on the plush leather couch while Mr. Coca settled beside her, his gaze unwavering.
"You're quite the enchanting woman," Mr. Coca began, his tone smooth. "Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?"
Sandra's lips curled into a sly smile. "No, I'm single. And ready to mingle."
"That's good to hear," Mr. Coca said with a grin. "Did you come here with friends tonight?"
"No," Sandra replied, taking another sip of her drink. "I prefer doing things on my own. It's more exciting that way."
"Interesting," Mr. Coca said, leaning closer. "Do you live on the island?"
Sandra shook her head. "No, I stay on the mainland, but I love coming to the island to flex. Life's too short to waste, right?"
Mr. Coca chuckled, impressed by her boldness. "I live on Banana Island. I'm Mr. Coca. And you are?"
"Sandra," she said simply, her eyes locking with his.
Mr. Coca smiled, already captivated. "What would you like to drink or eat? Anything you want, just say the word."
Sandra leaned back, her confidence unwavering. "I've had enough for tonight. But let's get to the point—why did you bring me here?"
Mr. Coca's expression grew serious, but his tone remained warm. "Sandra, I'll be honest. I want you to be my sugar baby." He opened his briefcase, revealing stacks of crisp dollar notes. He pulled out a bundle of $5,000 and placed it in her hands.
Sandra's eyes widened in astonishment. She hadn't expected such an extravagant gesture right away. "Wow, Mr. Coca," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "Why were you wasting time asking me this? My answer is yes."
Mr. Coca grinned, clearly pleased with her response. "I like a woman who knows what she wants."
Sandra tucked the money into her bag, her mind racing with thoughts of how this arrangement could help her achieve her dreams. "You didn't need to waste time, Mr. Coca. I would've said yes sooner if you'd just asked."
Mr. Coca laughed, his deep voice resonating. "I like you, Sandra. You're straightforward. Now tell me, should we stay here, or head to a more private place?"
Sandra didn't hesitate. "Let's go. I'm done flexing for tonight."
Mr. Coca gestured for his bodyguards, who promptly grabbed the briefcase and escorted them out. His luxurious car, an expensive black car, awaited them outside. The bodyguard opened the door, and Sandra stepped inside, her heart pounding with excitement.
As the car drove through the city lights, Sandra leaned back, her thoughts racing. "I finally caught a big fish," she thought, a smile spreading across her face. "$500 for just one night? My dreams are finally within reach."
Mr. Coca noticed her smile and chuckled. "You seem to smile a lot. What's on your mind?"
Sandra glanced at him, her expression playful. "I'm just a happy person. Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Coca. Your family, your life."
Mr. Coca relaxed into his seat, his tone becoming more conversational. "Well, as you know, I'm Mr. Coca Benson. I have three children—two daughters and a son. James, my eldest, runs my businesses. Omotara, my second daughter, is married, and Omotayo, my youngest, is still single. My wife also has her own business, but she's always busy. We don't spend much time together."
Sandra nodded sympathetically. "That's unfortunate, Mr. Coca. But don't worry, I'm here for you now. I'll make sure you never regret meeting me."
Mr. Coca smiled, clearly enjoying her company. "And what about you, Sandra? Tell me about yourself."
Sandra leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. "I'm the youngest in a family of six. My two sisters are married, and my brothers are working hard to make it in life. I've always been independent, though. I have big dreams, and I'll do whatever it takes to achieve them."
The car pulled up to the entrance of Eko Hotel, its grand façade gleaming in the moonlight. Mr. Coca stepped out first, offering Sandra his hand as she exited the car. Together, they walked into the hotel, their presence commanding attention. Mr. Coca quickly arranged for a suite, and they made their way upstairs.
The suite was lavish, adorned with elegant furnishings and a breathtaking view of the Lagos skyline. Sandra stepped inside, her eyes lighting up as she took in the opulence.
"Do you like it?" Mr. Coca asked, watching her reaction.
"I love it," Sandra said, her voice filled with admiration. "You didn't waste time telling me what you wanted, and I respect that."
Mr. Coca chuckled. "I'll make sure you're well taken care of. Tomorrow morning, I'll give you more cash before you leave."
Sandra smiled, her confidence unwavering. "Thank you, Mr. Coca. But for now, I'd like to freshen up." She began undressing, her movements deliberate and graceful, as she headed toward the bathroom.
As the door closed behind her, Sandra couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph. Her journey to securing the life she always dreamed of was just beginning. But in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered questions she wasn't ready to confront: What price would she ultimately pay for this life? Could she truly balance ambition and happiness without losing herself?
For now, Sandra silenced those doubts, focusing on the opportunity at hand. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but tonight, she was determined to savor her victory.