The morning sunlight spilled through the windows, casting warm streaks across the polished floor. Mirabel stirred awake, the sharp knock on her door breaking her from sleep. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Mrs. Ruth, looking surprisingly vibrant, stepped in with a smile.
"Mother! You're already up!" Mirabel exclaimed, quickly rushing to her side. "How are you feeling? Shouldn't you still be resting?"
"I'm fine, my daughter," Mrs. Ruth replied, her voice steadier than it had been in days. "But I have something important to tell you."
Mirabel helped her mother settle onto the bed, her brow furrowing with concern. "Is it about your recovery?"
Mrs. Ruth hesitated, clasping her hands together. Her gaze dropped momentarily before meeting her daughter's eyes. "Something happened at the hospital… something I can't quite explain."
Mirabel froze. "What do you mean?"
Mrs. Ruth's voice dropped to a whisper. "While I was unconscious, I felt someone near me. A man. He wasn't a doctor or a nurse, he wore a black robe. He took my blood, Mirabel. I couldn't move or speak. I tried to scream, but it was as if my body didn't belong to me. And when I woke up, I felt this sharp pain on my wrist."
Mirabel stared at her mother, struggling to process the revelation. "Are you sure? Maybe it was just a dream or the effects of the medication."
Mrs. Ruth shook her head firmly. "No, it felt too real. His face… I can still see it clearly." She rubbed her wrist as if the memory alone caused her discomfort.
"But when I arrived, the only person I saw was Mr. Femi. He was by your side. And… I told him to leave," Mirabel admitted, her tone softening.
"Why would you do that? He's been nothing but kind to you and me."
"I was just being cautious, Mother," Mirabel said, looking away.
Mrs. Ruth sighed deeply, her voice laced with a mixture of worry and reproach. "Maybe I imagined it. Perhaps you're right. But you should apologize to Mr. Femi. He's a good man, Mirabel."
Mirabel nodded reluctantly, but her thoughts lingered on her mother's story. A man in a black robe? Blood drawn without explanation? It sounded like something out of a dark fable.
"Alright, I'll apologize," she promised.
Her mother smiled, the tension lifting from the room. "Good. Now, let's not dwell on this. I'm feeling better, and we have brighter days ahead. Remember, I'm still the Alpha of Abuja and nothing can keep me down!"
Mrs. Ruth laughed, her voice echoing through the room as she stood and walked toward her room. But Mirabel's mind lingered on the strange tale, unease curling in her chest.
Later that day, as the sun began its slow descent, Mirabel found herself pacing the living room. She was nervous, not about the strange tale her mother had shared, but about seeing Mr. Femi again. She hadn't intended to be harsh with him at the hospital, but her instincts had kicked in. Now, she owed him an apology.
The doorbell rang, its chime reverberating through the quiet house. Taking a deep breath, Mirabel opened the door to find Mr. Femi standing there, his usual warm smile lighting up his face.
"Good afternoon, Mirabel," he greeted, holding a small bouquet of lilies. "I came to check on your mother and, of course, to see you."
Mirabel smiled, stepping aside to let him in. "Thank you, Mr. Femi. Before anything else, I owe you an apology for how I treated you at the hospital. You see,i was worried about my mother and didn't think things through. Please forgive me."
His expression softened as he handed her the flowers. "Mirabel, there's nothing to forgive. I understand you were under a lot of stress. But since you're apologizing, I do have one small condition."
Mirabel tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "And what might that be?"
"You'll let me take you out to dinner. No excuses," he said with a playful grin.
A chuckle escaped her lips. "That's hardly a condition, but alright. You've got yourself a deal."
"How about 6 p.m. tonight?" he suggested eagerly.
"Perfect," she replied, feeling an unexpected flutter in her chest.
By the time 6 p.m. rolled around, Mirabel had transformed into a vision of elegance. Her red dress hugged her form perfectly, and her hair, sleek and flowing, added an air of effortless sophistication. As she stepped outside, she spotted Mr. Femi waiting beside his sleek black car, a bouquet of roses in his hand. His tailored black suit only emphasized his charisma.
"You look breathtaking," he said, his voice genuine as he opened the car door for her.
"And you're quite the charmer," Mirabel replied, blushing as she slid into the passenger seat.
The evening unfolded beautifully. The restaurant he had chosen exuded luxury, with candlelit tables and soft jazz music setting the mood. Over dinner, their conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from Mirabel's childhood to Mr. Femi's work.
By the time dessert arrived, Mirabel found herself laughing at his witty remarks, her earlier reservations melting away.
"I hope this won't be the last time we do this," he said as he walked her to her door later that night.
"Let's see how well you behave," Mirabel teased, earning a laugh from him.
The following morning, Mirabel awoke to find a gift box waiting for her on the dining table. Her mother, who had just finished breakfast, gestured toward it. "That's from your Mr. Femi," she said with a knowing smile.
Mirabel opened the box to find a delicate bracelet and a note that read: Dinner tonight, same time?
"Persistent, isn't he?" Mrs. Ruth remarked with a chuckle.
"He is," Mirabel admitted, but her smile betrayed her growing affection.
As the days turned into weeks, their outings became more frequent. It didn't take long for the family to notice how much happier Mirabel seemed. Her laughter filled the house, and even Mrs. Ruth, who often queried her about "falling for a suitor," couldn't deny the positive change.
Then one evening, Mr. Femi called with an unexpected request. "Mirabel, I'd like to have dinner with your family. It's important to me."
"Dinner with my family?" she repeated, surprised.
"Yes. I think it's time," he said, his tone warm but serious.
The family dinner was nothing short of grand. The dining table, adorned with fine china and crystal glasses, reflected the importance of the occasion. When Mr. Femi arrived, dressed in a pristine white suit, he carried himself with a confidence that put everyone at ease.
Throughout the meal, he charmed the family with his wit and sincerity, effortlessly winning over even the most skeptical of relatives. But as dessert was being served, he stood, his expression shifting to one of solemnity.
"Dear Adejoro family," he began, his voice steady, "thank you for welcoming me so warmly tonight. You've made me feel like one of your own, and for that, I'm deeply grateful." He turned to Mirabel, his eyes locking with hers.
"Mirabel, from the moment I met you, I knew you were special. Your grace, intelligence, and unwavering strength have left an indelible mark on my heart. I can't imagine my life without you in it."
With that, he dropped to one knee, producing a velvet box from his pocket. Inside, a stunning diamond ring sparkled under the chandelier's light.
"Mirabel Adejoro," he said, his voice filled with emotion, "will you marry me?"
Tears welled up in Mirabel's eyes as she covered her mouth in shock. The room fell silent, every gaze fixed on her. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes. Yes, I will."
Cheers erupted around the table as he slipped the ring onto her finger. The family embraced the couple, their joy palpable. Mrs. Ruth, watching her daughter's happiness, wiped away tears of her own.
As the night wore on, plans for the wedding began to take shape. Mr. Femi insisted on a swift ceremony, choosing December 12 as the date. The family agreed wholeheartedly, eager to see Mirabel start this new chapter of her life.
That night, as Mirabel lay in bed, staring at the diamond on her finger, she thought about how quickly her life had changed. Love had found her in the most unexpected of ways, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly at peace.
But in the stillness of the night, her mother's words resurfaced: A man in a black robe… taking my blood.
A shadow passed over her thoughts, but she shook it away. For now, happiness was all that mattered.