CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAMIAN'S P.O.V.

It's Sunday, but instead of going to church like my parents, I stayed home. Before you judge, I'm not a heathen; I just rarely go. I didn't hit the elite clubs with my brothers and their friends either, although I do enjoy them sometimes.

Honestly, I'm swamped with work every morning, especially on Mondays. My desk is piled with tasks, and I can't remember the last time I went to church or to a club.

I'm always busy with office duties—attending meetings, organizing things, and so on.

"I was thinking of heading back to my place this weekend," I mentioned to my personal bodyguard, Nathaniel. "The family reunion is over."

He chuckled quietly, just out of earshot. "But boss, what about your meeting with the chief regarding the construction changes?"

Did he just say that?

Whatever. I'm glad I'm not an only child. If I were, my dad would overwhelm me with even more responsibilities.

I groaned, rubbing my face and rolling my eyes, trying to dismiss Nathaniel's comment.

My phone and laptop beeped simultaneously, but I ignored the notifications as Nathaniel stood up.

"Boss, would you like a glass of—" He gestured to the empty glass on the table.

I nodded, and he bowed and left.

When I have tasks like these, I usually work from my father's study room, where I am now.

After Nathaniel closed the door, I checked my phone. An anonymous message had arrived.

I normally ignore such messages, so I moved on to my laptop. The email was also from an unknown sender. I was about to disregard it when I realized it was distracting me from my work.

I set the file aside and checked my phone. Based on past experience, I suspected this message was from a woman.

When I scrolled back to my laptop, I saw the same message on both devices.

Nathaniel walked in with my glass of white wine, breaking my focus.

"Boss," he set the glass on the desk and took the chair opposite me.

"You won't believe this," I said to Nathaniel. He had been my bodyguard since I was five, and I bought him from my dad when he wanted to let him go.

I took a sip from my glass, handed him my phone, and turned the laptop so he could see.

As expected, Nathaniel chuckled. "I know there have been many women who've tried to ruin your reputation with threats and fake videos, but this seems different."

"So, you think she doesn't just want me in her bed?" I leaned back in my ergonomic chair.

"Sometimes I wonder why these women don't confront you directly," Nathaniel frowned, still staring at the phone screen.

I chuckled. "They're scared, Nathaniel," I said, picking up a file and flipping through it.

"So, what do we do now? This is getting out of hand," he asked, setting the phone down.

I was about to answer when the door opened and my mom stormed in, still in her church attire: buba, wrapper, and gele.

Nathaniel, knowing the drill, stood up, bowed, and left us alone in the study.

Mom looked furious, as if I were responsible for all of Nigeria's problems. She removed her gele, revealing her new 31-inch bone-straight wig.

I was about to ask why she ignored Nathaniel's greeting, but she abruptly pulled out the chair Nathaniel had just vacated and sat down with a scowl.

Mom rarely shows this kind of anger, so I wondered what was bothering her.

"Did you and Dad have another fight in the car?" I asked, thinking they often argue. "Or did you lose your bracelet?" She's known for being careless.

"Neither," she snapped, slamming my desk and nearly sending the files flying.

I was taken aback.

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

She pointed her freshly manicured nails at me and bared her teeth. "You're the problem, Damian."

I sighed, exasperated by her constant pressure to get married. I hoped she wouldn't bring it up today, or I'd seriously consider diverting my attention elsewhere.

I sat back with my arms crossed, prepared to endure her tirade.

Her eyes were fiery. "How could you stop Darin from answering Adira's calls?"

Oh, that.

I sighed inwardly, checking the files on my desk.

Mom seemed even angrier as she slammed the desk again. "Damian! Am I not talking to you?"

"What's the big deal, Mom?" I grumbled, recalling the night I confronted Darin about the incident with Adira.

Adira, my brother Dayo's ex-wife, is someone I can't forgive for the pain she caused my niece, Sharon.

"Forgetting about Dayo," I said firmly, "Adira was never accepted by this family. She's in the past, and I don't see why she should remain in Darin's contacts."

"You don't get it, Damian. As long as Sharon is connected to Adira, she still has some place here—though not completely."

"Tah!" I muttered. I will not allow that. "Never, Mom. Adira betrayed my brother. You saw it, and so did everyone else."

Mom looked as if she had been doused with cold water, frozen for several seconds.