London woke slowly, wrapped in a thin grey mist that curled around buildings like secrets refusing to rise.
Osato barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that sleek black car, the silhouette in the driver's seat, and the way her heart had leaped even when she tried to deny it.
Ebenezer…
Or was her mind tricking her?
She forced herself out of bed, showered, and slipped into the only decent work outfit she owned—a simple cream blouse and dark trousers. Her hands shook as she applied a light lip gloss. This was her first real job in London, her chance to start again. She couldn't afford distractions—especially not from a man who made her chest feel too tight.
"Focus, Osato," she muttered to herself, grabbing her umbrella.
The morning air bit her cheeks as she hurried toward the sleek, glass-fronted building of Hamilton & Rhodes Luxury Holdings. The name alone made her feel small—like she was stepping into a world she had no manual for.
Inside, the lobby was a palace of marble floors, chandelier light, and air that smelled faintly of oud and wealth. Everything whispered money.
Old money.
Dangerous money.
She swallowed hard.
The receptionist, a tall blonde woman with a clipped accent, barely looked up. "New intake? Third floor. Admin wing."
Osato nodded politely and walked toward the elevators, her heels clicking nervously.
As the doors slid open—
Her breath caught.
He was standing inside.
Ebenezer.
Dark skin glowing under the elevator lights.
Brooding eyes.
A quiet presence that felt like gravity.
He wore the same chauffeur uniform—jet-black suit, crisp gloves in hand—but today he looked sharper, colder, more controlled.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he tilted his head slightly.
"Good morning… Miss Osato."
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
"You—" she whispered, stepping inside, trying not to stare, "you were at the club last night?"
He didn't answer immediately. His jaw flexed.
The elevator doors closed.
"No I wasn't, he said finally. "I thought I saw you.
Her breath hitched.
He had seen her.
Watched her.
And he wasn't pretending otherwise.
You say me? Or u thought u saw me? He laughed " he asked softly.
His eyes stayed on the floor display above them, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
"I was home through out busy with some stuff," he replied. "Ohhh she said I must have mistook you for someone else."
A strange energy filled the small space, thick and electric. Like the air before rain.
Osato clasped her hands to keep them from shaking.
"So where are u heading to?"
Ebenezer turned his head then, slowly, fully, as if he'd been resisting the urge.
His eyes met hers.
Steady. Intense.
The kind of look that held heat and warning in equal measure.
"I am heading towards my office, sorry my bosses office he forgot his coat in the car, people listening," he said quietly.
Her pulse thudded.
Before she could respond, the elevator chimed open on the second floor. A group of staff filed in, chatting loudly about spreadsheets and deadlines. The spell broke.
Ebenezer stepped back.
When the elevator reached the third floor, he held the door slightly as she stepped out.
"Osato," he said, voice low.
She paused.
His eyes softened—barely.
"If anyone asks… we don't know each other."
The door slid shut before she could speak.
She stood frozen in the hallway, heart pounding.
What did that mean?
Why would he say that?
What was he hiding?
She walked into her office wonderinganc paid little attention
The admin wing smelled like fresh paper, expensive printer ink, and stress.
Stacks of files lined the hallway. Phones rang nonstop. Assistants typed like their lives depended on it. " pedro introduced himself as her Collegue. She was so pleased with him they became friends. Perldro said quietly welcome to hell.
Osato smiled despite her tension. Their chaotic energy warmed her chest.
But she kept glancing at the elevator.
She wasn't imagining it.
Ebenezer's presence lingered like perfume she couldn't shake.
"Why are you smiling, y u dy smile like person wey just see fine boy?"
"I'm not smiling," Osato lied.
"Lie," pedro said, folding her arms. "Pure lie."
snapped his fingers.
"Ah! I knew it. Are u admiringEbenezer"?
Osato opened her mouth—
A deep voice cut through the air.
"Miss Edebiri."
Everyone froze.
Osato turned slowly.
A tall, sharply dressed man with silver-streaked hair stood at the entrance of the admin wing. His suit alone looked like it cost more than her rent. This was Mr. Hamilton himself—the co-owner of the company.
But his eyes…
Hard. Calculating.
Like someone used to sizing people up and dismissing them.
"Sir," Osato breathed, stepping forward.
Hamilton's gaze raked over her—professional, assessing.
"You're the new operations assistant. You'll be shadowing my PA this week. Keep your phone on. You'll be called when needed."
"Yes, sir."
"And Miss Edebiri?"
"Yes?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, almost suspiciously.
"Keep your focus. This is not a place for… distractions."
Her stomach dropped.
Did he know?
Did he see her enter the elevator with Ebenezer?
Was the chauffeur not allowed to speak to staff?
Why would a man of Hamilton's status care?
He walked away without another word, leaving a trail of questions behind him.
Pedro leaned close, whispering,
"Guy… that man get FBI eyes. If you get secret, he go smell am."
Osato swallowed.
Her secret had a name.
And it was wrapped in a chauffeur uniform.
Hours passed in a blur of printing, sorting, emails, and whispered chaos. By late afternoon, Osato stepped into the hallway to breathe.
That was when she saw him again.
Ebenezer stood near an exit door, half-hidden behind a pillar. He looked like a shadow carved from stillness.
Her heart lurched.
She approached him slowly.
"You said we shouldn't talk. Why are you waiting for me?"
He didn't smile. Not even slightly.
"I'm here to warn you," he said softly.
"Warn me? About what?"
He glanced around as if expecting someone to appear.
His voice dropped lower, urgent.
"Be careful who you trust in this company. Things are not… what they look like."
Her pulse raced.
"What do you mean?"
"Just—" he stopped, jaw tightening. "If anyone asks, you and I have never spoken before today. You don't know me. I don't know you."
"But I do know you," she whispered back. "And you know me."
For the first time, he looked shaken.
Just for a heartbeat.
"That," he murmured, "is exactly the problem."
Before she could ask another question, footsteps echoed down the hall.
Ebenezer straightened instantly, face returning to stone.
He moved past her without another word, brushing her shoulder lightly—too lightly to be seen, but enough to send heat crawling through her skin.
A secret.
A warning.
A man who wanted to stay away but couldn't.
Osato exhaled shakily.
What exactly had she stepped into?
And why did her heart whisper that she wasn't ready to walk away?
The rest of the day dragged like a weight tied to Osato's ankles. The air in Hamilton & Rhodes felt different now—sharper, colder. Every corridor seemed to hum with invisible rules she didn't understand. Every passing glance from older staff felt like an assessment she was failing without knowing why.
By 5 p.m., she was exhausted. Her brain throbbed from staring at spreadsheets. Her new PA supervisor—Mrs. Harding—had assigned her an "easy starter task," which turned out to be entering over seven hundred client codes and categorizing internal reports she barely understood.
Osato stared at her screen, frustrated.
Everything was confusing.
The reports were filled with initials, coded segments, luxury acquisitions… things way above her level.
Pedro appeared behind her cubicle wall.
"You still here? Ahahn, new girl. Pack your load and be going home now. If you wait till 8 p.m., they'll baptize you with workload."
"I'm trying," she muttered. "I don't get some of these categories."
Pedro shrugged.
"Ask someone nau. But not Mr. Hamilton oh—unless you want panic attack."
Pedro left with a playful salute.
Osato sighed and rubbed her forehead.
That was when a deep voice spoke behind her.
"You're doing it wrong."
Her heart leaped.
She turned.
Ebenezer.
Standing there quietly, hands in his pockets, wearing no uniform now—just a fitted black sweater and dark trousers that made him look even more impossible to ignore. His presence in the admin wing felt illegal, like he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near here.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered. And what do i know about my job, said angrily, you follow me everywhere, why are you here, this is not your work place, but u are always here, abeg get lost.
He glanced toward the hallway.
"No one's paying attention. They've all closed."
"That doesn't answer my question."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"You look lost."
She swallowed. "I'm not lost. Just… confused." she said angrily, what do you know?
"Let me see."
Before she could protest, he pulled a chair beside her and sat, fingers brushing slightly against hers. It sent a spark up her arm. She pretended not to feel it.
He leaned in, studying her screen, eyebrows furrowing.
"You're placing internal A-clients under Tier C. That'll flag the whole system."
"But they're labeled—"
"Wrongly," he finished. "Intentionally, sometimes."
Her brows knit. "Why intentionally?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he began typing—quiet, efficient, precise. His fingers moved fast, reorganizing sections she didn't even understand.
"You know the system?" she asked slowly.
He gave a tiny, amused huff.
"I built the first draft of it."
She blinked.
"What?"
Ebenezer didn't look up from the keyboard.
"Don't let the uniform fool you," he murmured. "I have a PhD in Marketing and Strategic Business. This…" he gestured around the cubicle, "used to be my world."
Her mouth fell open.
"You're lying."
His lips curved slightly.
"I don't lie, Osato."
She stared at him—really stared.
The confidence.
The precision.
The way he read the data like it was a language only he spoke.
"You have a PhD?" she repeated, almost whispering.
"From Leeds," he said calmly. "Top of my class."
"But… you're a chauffeur."
He paused, finally meeting her eyes.
There was something wounded in his gaze, something dark and buried.
"Life doesn't always give you the job you earned," he said quietly. "Sometimes it gives you the job that keeps you alive."
A chill travelled through her.
"What do you mean by that?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he pointed at the screen.
"That column should be indexed, not manually filled. Otherwise you'll be here till midnight."
She cleared her throat, unsure how to move past what he'd said.
"You didn't answer my question."
"I know," he said softly. "And I won't. Not yet."
Osato tried to focus on the screen, but her thoughts were spinning.
A PhD holder.
Working as a driver.
In this kind of company.
Something was very, very off.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked, voice low.
Ebenezer leaned back slightly, watching her with an expression that felt too intense for the small cubicle.
"Because I've seen people drown here," he said.
"And you… you don't look like someone who should drown."
Her breath caught.
Heat bloomed in her chest.
He stood suddenly.
"I fixed the main issues. Just restructure the remaining folders the way I showed you."
She rose to her feet without thinking.
"Ebenezer—"
He shook his head.
"Don't say anything."
"Why?"
A shadow crossed his face.
"Because this company is full of listening ears. And if anyone finds out I helped you—"
He didn't finish.
"What would happen?" she whispered.
Ebenezer opened his mouth to answer—
But the overhead lights flickered.
And then:
A door slammed. Hard.
Someone was close.
Someone who shouldn't see him here.
Ebenezer stepped into her cubicle quickly, positioning himself behind her chair, close enough that she felt his breath on her shoulder.
"Pretend I'm not here," he whispered.
Her pulse hammered.
Footsteps approached.
Slow. Heavy.
Commanding.
Osato's heart dropped when the person stopped directly at her workstation.
Mr. Hamilton.
He glanced at her screen, then at her face.
"You're working late," he said, voice unreadable.
"Yes, sir."
His eyes scanned the cubicle…
and paused on the faint movement behind her chair.
Osato held her breath.
Hamilton's gaze sharpened.
"Is someone here?" he asked.
Her throat tightened.
This was the moment.
The one that could expose everything.
Ebenezer's hand brushed hers under the desk—light, steady—guiding her without a word.
"No, sir," she said softly. "Just me."
Hamilton lingered.
Too long.
Then—
Slowly—
He nodded.
"Finish and head home. Don't stay too late."
"Yes, sir."
He walked away, footsteps fading.
Osato exhaled.
Ebenezer didn't move.
His breath warm against her ear.
"That," he murmured, "was close."
She turned slightly.
He was inches from her face.
"Why is he watching you like that?" Osato whispered.
Ebenezer's jaw tightened.
"Because," he said calmly, "Hamilton doesn't trust anyone he didn't break himself."
"What does that mean?"
He stepped back, face unreadable.
"Go home, Osato. And tonight—lock your door. From the inside."
Her stomach dropped.
"Why?"
His eyes met hers, full of warning.
"Because the company you think you work for isn't the company you actually work for."
And with that—
He walked away, disappearing down the dim hallway, leaving Osato frozen with confusion, fear…
and a dangerous curiosity that was quickly becoming something more.