Songs for this chapter are:
Dulce - Gawvi
Makes no sense - Asa
Dead again - Asa
I gotta live - Wande
***
"Madam, the minister from Somalia has arrived, " my husband's secretary said over the phone in a perplexed voice as soon as I picked his call.
"Good. Now, come to the warehouse right away so you can pick up the goods to my husband's office."
"Yes, Madam."
"Make it quick. I do not have time to spare. I can't keep the minister waiting for long"
"Yes, ma'am. B-but, ma'am...your husband, my boss never mentioned anything about the minister from Somalia coming over to purchase boxes of unrefined sapphire before he left for Arabia."
"My husband is a very busy man. You don't expect him to remember every transaction or schedule he has and that is why I, his wife is here to assist him."
"But he does—"
"Now I'm going to give you two options to pick from: Ask another stupid question and lose your job or shut your dirty mouth, come to the warehouse right away to pick the goods and remain my husband's secretary, " I cut him sharply.
"I won't ask you any more questions, ma'am. You equally have a say in the operations of the company."
"You don't say, " with an eye roll, I hung up on the secretary.
Practically though, I was right. He had a contract with the suppliers from Yemen to ship unrefined sapphire indeed only that I had just gotten in contact with the suppliers privately and paid them an extra amount of money which was derived from making use of my husband's banknotes originally meant for the supply of rubies just so the Yemeni can supply the extra boxes of goods that I could make use of.
It wasn't like I didn't have my own money but sharing is caring not so?
Take heed, before you accuse me of stealing. I was only ensuring that I enjoy the all-round benefit of being Mustafa's wife. After all, that was what I bargained for when I chose to be his wife. So, a mere alteration of an entire transaction shouldn't do much damage, should it?
More importantly, it was the perfect time to make tangible moves towards establishing my bag and shoemaking business which I planned on birthing in a few months from now and I planned on making it really big since it was my dream business. It would be a grease to my elbow to actualize the biggest dream I've harbored since my teenage years. It would be something outstanding to account for, something worth marveling at, something worth the congratulatory messages from people, commending me for turning to be that great a person in life despite all of the unpleasant emotions I've been embalmed in all my life.
Owning a business I've dreamt of for so long to have would serve as the perfect wall to safeguard me from feeling emotions based on what I've been and might still go through with human beings. If I am to feel emotions at all, then it would be strictly business-induced.
Moreover, it would earn me the joy I've been longing to feel and if it only brings me tears, at least it wouldn't be tears of hopelessness, tears that I would be unable to wipe away. They would be tears of hope, tears of the zeal to work harder so my business can rise up again and do ten times better than it did before it fell.
It was indeed, promising.
Now that I have made my point clear, I hope someone agrees with me that it's only relevant that I get the adequate support I need from my husband without necessarily having to ask for it.
As I made my way towards the entrance, I saw my husband's secretary run towards me, wiping beads of sweat off his shiny forehead in the glistening sunlight.
"What set of goods am I supposed to deliver to the Minister, ma'am?" he said breathlessly, clasping his knees in perspiration.
"Check carefully for goods with the code, XXL298C inscribed on it. Be fast about it. There are ten boxes with that inscription. Do well to make sure that none of those boxes as missing as you bring them to the office."
With that, I took the elevator that led the fastest to my husband's office immediately after I'd seen the entourage of the minister almost eroding the company and numerous bodyguards standing ramrod straight.
When I reached the reception, I saw the minister seated on the sofa with four bodyguards standing upright by his side, each of them holding a medium-sized, black briefcase in hand, filled with money.
My money...
Swallowing deliciously just by the mere fact that those briefcases would be in my possession in the next couple of minutes, I gave a bow of obeisance to the minister.
"Good Afternoon, your excellency. I apologize immensely for the delay. I was busy making sure the goods containing the gems are in place. My husband's secretary would be coming with the boxes very shortly."
"Hmm. I hope these gems are indeed valuable and original. The economy of Somalia has to be great this year. More money has to be generated to be able to feed the magnitude of starving people in our country and neighboring countries would not want to purchase fake gems from us. If these gemstones are indeed authentic, you would be saving an entire nation, " He said after a coughing spree.
The minister was so short, I secretly wondered if he had swallowed a pill to remain an inch above a dwarf but his shiny dark skin and his reasonable eloquence made up for his major default, making him at least tolerable to have a conversation with. More so, he was the key to my next level so why should I not tolerate him?
"Yes, they really are, your excellency. Hundred percent authentic in fact. My father-in-law has mines in the suburbs of most countries situated in the middle east and Islamic countries in Africa and Asia. These gemstones are directly imported from the mines in those countries so you can bank on us, " I said with a smile.
I'd left out the fact that Yemen was one of those very few countries where my father-in-law did not own a mine in which meant that there was an increased possibility that the gemstones might be fake but what do I care if the gemstones are original or not? All I need is the damn cash.
At least if the sale of those gemstones would indeed save a nation full of mostly malnourished citizens, then I guess I was actually doing the right thing only that I was going it without my husband's consent and I don't know if he would mind selling extra boxes of sapphire gemstones from the Yemeni suppliers to the minister from Somalia neither did I know if he would mind if he learned that I made use of his banknotes without his permission but whatever it is, so long as I profited heavily from it, everyone else could go to hell.
A few minutes later, the door burst open, leaving us with a view of the secretary whose hands were full of the ten medium-sized boxes. He walked briskly to the table situated at the center of the reception and placed the boxes on it. He was panting heavily like a seventy-year-old who had just run a marathon.
"Unstrap the first box so the minister can have a look at one of the samples of the gemstones," I commanded him and after he gave the minister a bow, he grabbed a pair of scissors from the shelf, using it to the tear the carton open. He stepped aside, letting me walk towards the table as I took a small box carved out of the carton that was crafted with ceramics.
I gave the minister another bow, not minding how much it made me uncomfortable, due to my hair sticking on my face so long as it was all for the money that was soon going to be in my hands. I handed the small box carefully to the minister, letting him examine it properly.
As I raised my head up, I watched his expression carefully as he examined the raw crust of hard, solid sapphire gemstone in the box. He raised his brow a little above the ladder of his face and brought it down. He repeated the movement occasionally and with a slight, almost unnoticeable twitch on his lips, he gave one of his bodyguards to carefully examine it as well.
If I thought the minister's expression was stone cold, then staring at the bodyguard made me feel barmy for jumping so hastily into conclusion. The coldness in his expression could have frozen mercury and it made my heart nearly skyrocket out of my chest.
Oh Allah, please let these gemstones be exactly what they need. I don't care if it turns out to be fake, so long as I have money before they get to decipher that later on.
I wasn't sure if Allah was going to hearken to such a prayer but nevertheless, I just needed these people to purchase the gemstones.
Then...
"This..." The bodyguard muttered and my heart did a large thump on hearing the monosyllable. "...is one hundred percent authentic, your excellency."
"Exactly! His Excellency, The Governor and the minister of external affairs from Azerbaijan is so going to be amazed by the sight of these gemstones once they become refined, "
Yes! Those briefcases are going to be in my hold!
The minister gave me a pleased look, nodding ever so vibrantly. "We are buying all of these gemstones for 500 million dollars."
Damn. That...Is One hundred and eighty-one freaking billion Naira!!!
Struggling so hard not to look so mindblown by the sound and the quantity of the amount aforementioned to me, I stood straight, imitating the closest look to a sergeant.
So much for trying to act like you are not fazed by that amount. You look so damn ridiculous, woman!
"Thank you very much, Your Excellency. It was spectacular doing business with you, " I muttered those few words in an attempt to shut my inner woman up.
The minister gave his bodyguards a look that signaled an instruction that didn't have to be verbally expressed and immediately, they match forward, each dropping the black suitcases in their hands onto the center table.
I took a deep breath, battling with the urge to unzip the briefcases in their presence.
These people should get their flat behinds out of here already!!
"I shall be taking my leave now, and my guards would be bringing the boxes along with them."
"Very well then. My husband's secretary shall see you off in a few minutes, " I said with a smile that I wasn't sure had reached my eyes.
Once they were completely out of sight and earshot, I fiddled my fingers around one of the briefcases, unzipping it only for my eyes to be graced with the view of freshly printed, minty scented, stack of U.S. Dollars!
Damn!
I looked up at the secretary and he didn't need to be told what to do before he scurried out of the office like a frightened mouse at the sight of a viper. I took each briefcase in hand, the joy I felt completely overshadowed the feeling of the weightiness of the four briefcases beneath my hold as I took the elevator downstairs.
Once I saw where I'd parked my car in the morning, I dropped each briefcase carefully at the booth. I hopped joyfully into my car, deciding that the bank would definitely be the first best place to head for.
During the ride to the bank, my phone rang repeatedly and I picked the call on seeing the caller ID.
"Hey babe, how are you doing? It's been so freaking long. Don't you miss me?"
That voice that I had undeniably missed. The resurfacing of the voice brings back several memories of when I had heard that voice so closely as his lips bit softly on my earlobe sent currents of shivers running down my spine.
"No, because I told you to stay away."
"But your voice sounds so raggedy. I am back now and I miss you. I need you, don't you need me?"
"Cut the crap."
"Yes or no, Cassie. Do you need me?"
"Shit, yes I do. Where are you?" I gave up, my breath hitched just by the sound of his powerful voice. A power that did so many interesting things to me.
"Where we usually meet babe, before you told me to stay away but I never stayed away. Instead, I spent months, masturbating vainly just by visualizing you beneath my hold but I can not stay away from you anymore babe."
"Heck. I missed your manhood too. I am very happy right now even though you are the last person I would want to celebrate with, I can sure do with some great sex right now, " I admitted, biting my lip so needily.
"Okay Cassie, I'd be waiting. You don't know how hard you have made me by being so consenting, " he growled.
"Please, say my name one more time, " I begged, almost moaning.
"Cassie, " He said in that voice, able to make me lose every sense of my already non-existent normalcy.
I ended the call, wondering just how on earth I had given into him like a needy slave. He cheated on me, made me an object of ridicule, came back sneakily into my life and I let him in, let him have sex with me behind closed doors, cheating on my darling husband simply because no one felt as homely to me as him.
Simply because I felt like I was forever indebted to him for saving me from captivity but despite how much I knew he was poison and that he wasn't good for me, I just couldn't break free, even if I did, it was only temporal. Whenever he came calling, I always succumbed.
Sweet, subtle captivity...
I already didn't want to feel any emotions from people. I only wanted to be focused on business but with him, could I really say I knew what I was doing? Could I really say that I was mentally stable? He held the keys to my sanity but somehow, I was so deliciously entrapped that I never knew if it was important to demand the keys to be able to feel normal again.
Sweet, subtle, captivity...
***
Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."