Monday morning found Gabriel in his office at Asika holdings, with Gregory standing in front of his desk rambling off the discrepancies in their proposed cassava production deal from the yellow folder he held opened in front of him.

The boss man was mute, his gaze locked on the silver knob of his office glass door, but he was not really seeing the metallic object, his thoughts were on a polar express journey, reviewing and recalculating thoroughly the figures his tall assistant had rattled off earlier.

Closing the folder slowly, Gregory paused in his speech to eye him cautiously. He had worked under Gabriel for nearly half a decade, and had known throughout that time to avoid him like the plague whenever he was brooding. He could act explosively in those times.

Gabriel was expressively brooding at the moment.

Taking a few paces back, Greg shifted to his far right, away from the man's eye view, before deciding to break the chilling serenity in the broad office.

"Gabriel, we might exceed our current budget if we are proposing to have this project ready in three months."

The man behind the desk did not reply, choosing to roll the small green stress ball between his right palm methodically. Greg inched more metres to the right just in case.

"How much?"

The man swallowed before opening the closed folder in his arms to peruse through for the required information he had memorised already.

"You're aware that I don't like repeating myself."

"Ten percent, sir."

The loud booming noise that ricocheted off the glass door had Greg cowering in his boots just to protect his ears. The green ball lay helplessly on the dark rug, rolling back and forth on the border line between the door and the visitors chair.

Gabriel sat up in his chair and attacked the jet black computer on his desk, furiously tapping away on the keyboard. His eyes skimmed over the interface, plainly bent on finding, -or creating, which would be more appropriate- the solution to the problem encountered. It was widely known that the man excelled at doing impeccable work.

Greg cowardly made his way back to the front of the desk, and quietly sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. His boss didn't spare him a glance, so he opened his tablet to work on some ideas too. You didn't work for a workaholic like Gabriel without picking up a few desirable traits along the way.

"How much is in the general managers' account?"

Greg paused in his work to stare incredulously at the man from his rimmed glasses. Although Gabriel was the general manager, the account, however, was not made for his personal use. The accounts department oversaw and gave permission to use the funds therein, after receiving his penned approval, of course.

When the man gave him a heated glare, Greg punched a few keys on his tablet and the data popped up.

"We have approximately one hundred and seventy million as net profit, but a total of two hundred and ten million as gross, revenue from quarterly sales not included."

Gabriel nodded, obviously having an inkling what should be in the account. He smirked and made a few taps on the keyboard. An alert notification popped up on the tablet and the young man's mouth dropped. How dare he? He was stunned speechless. This action would have dire consequences once Raphael gets wind of it!

"But, Sir,..." he trailed off miserably, words failing him effortlessly when the man held his gaze menacingly.

"I made a simple transaction. Now, we have enough money to continue funding the production process. Nothing is stopping this project from becoming a success."

Or stopping him from clenching the CEO position fair and square, Greg nearly added but grounded his teeth together to prevent them from fetching him the pink slip. Gabriel would not hesitate to see him out of a job in seconds.

It was common knowledge that the ambitious man behind the desk had been eyeing the CEO position for so long, which would explain his unbeatable records in the company for the past year, but Greg, who worked closely with him, knew that it was just an act for what the man was really aiming for. The position of chairman.

He had, inadvertently, on a search for a production portfolio, been privy to very confidential files last month. The files showed that Gabriel Asika wanted to be chairman and his plan, as meticulous as it was outlined on that piece of document, had several backups. The first had been to charm investors over to him camp with his unparalleled success in bringing in sales. The second method, however, was what caught his attention. It had something to do with a child and an inheritance but Gabriel had walked into the office at the precise moment just before his curious eyes could read further. He never saw those files again after that day.

"But that would be stealing from the company, Sir!" He cried out, trying quite furtively to dissuade the stubborn man.

Gabriel grinned at his bespectacled personal assistant as if he didn't know, couldn't decipher, what was going on, before replying with a smugness that infuriated his right hand man sometimes.

"It isn't called stealing if you're only taking back what you put there in the first place."

For that witty statement, Gregory Ajala had no comeback.

++++++++++

Gina never really understood why the elite feminine population hated being housewives until she became one,- without the official title that comes with it, of course. Annoyed at herself for even wishing she had the blasted title attached to her name, she whisked the batter in front of her furiously, briefly visualising Gabriel's head as the batter, and the red tint, his blood.

The cursed, wretched man who manipulated her into temporary residency in his house for the next nine months made certain she didn't leave the house without his knowledge and penned signature when necessary. His workers followed his instructions to the later, none tried to deviate no matter her claims of being his heir carrier. Apparently, being a 'baby mama' was not that big of deal for all these wealthy Lagos bachelors, which ultimately made her a nobody. Huffing and puffing, she attacked the batter again with renewed vengeance.

Taking an energy break with the accompanying pants, her thoughts drifted to her current status. She couldn't exactly claim to be his baby mama since she had barely been a month in his house but he had made sure to fill her up with his seed the minute she got her IUD removed, claiming 'time was of the essence'. He had even continued the ritual consecutively for days just to be positive. In his exact words, he didn't like wasting money on non-profit-making ventures. She knew it was bullshit since it was glaring he enjoyed sex with her.

However, days after the cheating scandal found him absent from their nights of sexual exercise. He had ceased from coming to her room in the night, preferring to keep their relations strictly professional, that night's disastrous dinner notwithstanding. It was glaring he would never see her the same way again, Sisi had made sure of it.

To kill her boredom cum sexual frustration, she had applied to an online professional baking class, her alter ego as Sochima the striving baker rebranded. It worked out well for the one week it had run, and today, she was putting her skills to test in making a red velvet cake.

Watching the creamy mixture with delight, her breath left her mouth in a whoosh, the action helping to calm her nervous mind. She had done cupcakes and ordinary tea cakes that tasted quite like cassava chaff in her mouth because she had economized marginally on the ingredients, but a change in her living conditions meant she could afford everything in surplus. Succinctly, the cake should be beyond delicious.

"What is that nice smell?"

She turned around to find Thelma watching her with undisguised curiosity.

She and the older woman had gotten quite close since her niece left the house which shoukd have made the situation slightly suspicious but Thelma treated her as she would her own daughter hence the cordial relationship they have. When she wasn't acting like Margaret Thatcher, Thelma was Mother Theresa which explained their closeness. She ran the house like it was hers, with Osuofia, the gardener and Solomon, the new chauffeur falling in line without complaint. With Sisi gone, Gina found herself frequenting the kitchen to help out with the cooking and it was always received with gratitude.

"I'm making red velvet cake with chocolate dressing. It's supposed to taste nice," she replied, somewhat uncertain.

Thelma eyed the batter and chuckled. "You can't frown like that and start having bad thoughts. If you don't believe it would turn out nice, then it wouldn't."

She hummed at that inspirational quote and gave herself a mental pat on the back. "Alright, cake, you are going to turn out delicious, so Gabriel can see I'm putting his money into good use, not only in paying for damaged furniture and dinnerware." She grimaced at the memory, shaking her head mildly which raised up bubbles of laughter that erupted from the older woman's lips.

She watched the wrinkles on her face squeeze together as she tried to control her laughs.

"I heard about that." She commented in between laughs. "You really displayed your village girl skills quite alright. Gabriel must have been shocked!"

Pouring the batter into the already greased cake pan, she thought for a second. "I don't think he minded much. I mean he was holding his own quite well in the fight between brothers."

Thelma sighed and strolled towards the left side of the kitchen which contained the cooker, oven and microwave to go tinker with the setting knob of the oven. Gina had noticed she was that meticulous when it came to cooking.

"I don't understand why he enjoys getting into fights with his brother. They are grown men. You'd think they'd be past that stage already." She stood to her full height after ensuring the oven was at the appropriate setting.

Gina paused in the action of lifting the heavy cake pan to stare at the disgusted look marring the woman's features. "He told me he didn't get into fights with his brother when they were younger. Apparently he was too matured for that." She added with an eye roll that nearly gave her a headache.

She nodded in agreement, watching Gina place the pan in the already hot oven. "And he was matured at such a young age. You should have met him then. He had his head screwed on tight too, unlike Malcolm whose second name was chaos. Everything changed after their mother died, you know."

"Their mother?"

"Yes," she replied monotonously, staring off into the distance. "Her death affected them all in some ways but you won't notice it unless you've lived with them like I did. His reaction surprised me the most cause he was the least close to her yet he got into his first altercation with his brother because of her."

Gina's mind recalled that he had mentioned a picture frame. Supposedly, the picture was of his mother and Malcolm had burnt it? Why would he get angry about that? Couldn't he had easily replaced it? Surely, as their mother, they had tons of her pictures in their house. Or perhaps there was more to the story?

She turned to face the woman squarely in an attempt to get her to divulge more secrets. "What was the picture all about?"

As though bashed over the head suddenly by the Asika ancestors to stop spilling their secrets, Thelma gave her a wary look. "I shouldn't be telling you all these. It's not as though you're staying long in this house. You're not even his girlfriend, sef."

Gina rolled her eyes at the dense woman before putting up her nice girl facade. Who cares if she was his girlfriend or not? She was living in this house presently by his directives and would be for the next eight months. She should be considered as family.

"My mouth is like glue. There's nothing you'll tell me that'll leave it. Besides, Gabriel and I are together. We are just taking things slow at the moment."

If she had her doubts concerning her credibility, the woman didn't voice it. Instead, she let out a sigh. "Mrs. Grace was such a weak woman that it was left for her children, especially Gabriel, to protect her from that evil man called Raphael Asika..."

"Gossiping about my family, are we?"

The sharp, clipped tone of her employer had Thelma scrambling to the freezer and tinkering with the ingredients stacked inside. Gina eyed the woman, wondering why she was putting up the busy act, but inferred that working for someone like Gabriel meant you were on your toes at all times, otherwise, you would be out of a job instantly.

She turned slightly towards the door to find him glowering at her. When she didn't quiver under the intensity, he passed that glare to Thelma instead, who scrambled out of the kitchen, giving the pair much needed privacy to talk. She waited a full two minutes for him to broach a topic, but when he didn't say anything, she ignored his presence and turned to face the sink where she had dumped her baking utensils from earlier.

She had barely soaked the dishwashing foam with the liquid when he barked.

"What are you doing?!"

Gina paused in the action of scrubbing the dishes clean to stare at the owner of the voice as though he had three heads on top his neck.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Gabriel clenched and unclenched a fist, wondering why she took great pleasure in testing him. "You should not be here in the kitchen gallivanting around like lost sheep without a shepherd. Your help is not needed."

Being insulted always woke up the raging bull in her, and this time was no exception. Why did he delight in belittling people as much as he could?

"It is you that is acting like a lost sheep without shepherd. Onye ara!" She hissed spitefully, cleaning her hands free of suds to face him, hands akimbo. If he came this afternoon for war, it was best to be prepared.

If he wasn't still angry about her sleeping around, he might have let out a chuckle or two at being termed a mad man. Instead, his lips curved up into a smirk. "You have been warned, Gina. I don't want to see you in my kitchen again."

Since he wanted a reaction from her, he was going to get it full dose. "You can't order me around, Gabriel. I'm not a prisoner here. First, you stationed a driver to always monitor my movement, then you told them to not let me leave the house as if I'm a house dog..."

"It's not as if you are a social animal." He rolled his eyes.

She ignored him and forged on. "Now, you want to dictate where I should enter in this house and where I should not. That will not happen. Not while I'm alive and living in this house. You'd have to kill me first."

When his brow lifted up at the remark, she faltered in her step. He may actually kill her if it came right down to it. His personality screamed he was that cold.

"I didn't bring you here to my house for you to offer your services as a househelp. I have people for that job." 

"Cleaning up after one's self is not a crime. You rich people are very annoying sometimes, I swear," she retorted with a hiss before turning back to face her dishes, completely dismissing him.

Gabriel swore under his breath at the blatant disregard.

If he wasn't paying her to be here right now, and if the likelihood of her being pregnant at this moment wasn't an option, he would have had her put out like the street girl she was masquerading as. But his hands were tied, and she knew it. Which meant she could abuse it as long as it lasted.

He let out a defeated sigh and told himself he could withstand her rash behaviour. Then his heart nearly collapsed when he recounted the time frame. Eight months was a very long time when you're living with a mad girl.

He tilted his head to study her, to discover why he had thought she moving in with him was such a good idea initially but got distracted by the view in front of him.

He was entranced with the way she scrubbed furiously at the dishes, her body swaying subconsciously to an imaginary tune. Her ridiculously long weaves were tied up into a bun ontop her head, with a few tendrils escaping her hair net. Her sleeveless purple knee length gown hugged her waist and hips expertly, clearly outlining her features that would bring any warm blooded male succumbing to her charms. Too bad he had sworn off her completely after that morning. Even remembering that incident made his blood boil.

He sighed, running a hand down his face before expelling a tired breath. He wanted her gone.

"Fine. You can move back to your house and stay there till you give birth. You don't have to stay here."

The look she gave him, followed by her signature ear piercing hiss had him making a turnaround for his room without waiting for a reply.

+++++++++++

That night, Gina stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her red silky nightie, to find Gabriel standing near the foot of her bed.

It was a pleasant surprise since he had been busy with work lately, plainly trying to avoid any conversation with her that might invariably lead to tangling under the sheets and it had dampened her mood significantly. She may not like the guy or his family, but he knew his way around a woman's body. What else could she possibly need?

She watched his arm muscles flex and instantly knew why. She had been around him for almost three weeks now to know when he was pondering. He was so lost in thoughts he didn't notice when she stepped into his view.

"Gabriel?" She began tentatively, breaking him out of his reverie.

"I need to talk to you." Typical of him to go straight to the point.

"If it's about your earlier suggestion..." she began but he cut her off sharply.

"Forget I said anything. I want you here. I want to be close to my child at all times."

She nodded, somehow feeling disappointed that he only cared about the baby. "Why are you here then?"

He exhaled, holding her stare. "I will be brief, as I do not want to keep you from bed. My father invited me to the house this weekend and I'm expected to bring you along."

"Me?" A confused tone fell out.

"Yes, you." He nodded with a dismissive shrug. "He got the wrong impression about you after that awful dinner, so we'll get on his good graces by informing him about his grandchild."

Gina felt lost for a few seconds. "But that's too early. I'm not even sure I'm pregnant!"

He saw her panicked features and relented. "Don't worry. My plan does not necessarily involve I tell him this weekend. There will be time for that. Just pack your bag, add things you'd need to spend the weekend and we'll leave once I get back from the office tomorrow, understand?" He ordered without an iota of emotion in his voice.

"Goodnight, Gina," he declared, before turning to march out of the room, leaving a frustrated horny woman fuming at his back. 

~~~~~~~~~

Seriously, I don't know Gabriel's problem, and so does Gina, but together we'll find out. And what better way to do that than to go over to the family house, right? Off we go, then!

Don't forget to vote and comment.

Sending you kisses 😘😙