Beyond Our Arrangement

Chapter One

It was just another day. Another day filled with the drama of what it's like to welcome the son of wealth—as everyone would classify Raphel Omotayo— home. Men in matching black suit and ties rushed out of the huge building that stood in the middle of the largely-huge space of land that could be a city itself, arranged themselves in something like a line on the right and left side of the tall, golden, entrance door, and bowed their heads as Raphel's limousine drove into the driveway.

Everyone was quiet, maybe due to fear or respect, and slowly, in a nice order, ladies in red-coloured, simple, knee length dresses came out through the entrance door and waited by it. They wore a smile on their faces, as they had all been trained to do for several years, and held bouquets of roses to welcome this son of wealth. One could easily tell that tension surrounded the air and even everyone present could not tell the reason for that. Maybe they were not standing still enough or maybe the Omotayos may not be satisfied with their outfits? They sought perfection for this family because their job in the mansion—their lives—may be at risk from just welcoming Raphel.

As soon as the Limousine parked in front of the building, a tall, well built man in a red suit opened its door. Raphel Omotayo stepped out first. As a gentleman he often proposed to be, he stretched out his right hand to help Faith, his wife, step out of the Limo.

Well, what or who was Faith Adebanjo Omotayo? Everything that could define sassiness.

Slowly, and with that usual disgust look she wore, she raised her eyes to stare up at Raphel who patiently waited for her hand. “You know I can walk by myself, right?”

His chest stinged as he held the urge to snort or exhale in frustration. The only expression he could give was a fake smile, and he said in a low voice, “Honey, it's a whole five minutes. I can't let you walk alone for that long.”

“Of course.” Reluctantly, she took his hand and started to walk with him towards the door of the building. Her eyes moved around as Raphel clinched to her like glue, and like every other time she and Raphel came back home from a  trip, she felt guilty seeing everyone act like a slave for them. She exhaled and shook her head.

“Any problem?” Although Raphel knew her thought process already, he still asked. Almost immediately, he regretted asking. “Oh, never—”

“Do they always have to do this?” She cut him off. Well, he just stared comprehensively at the door, ready to hear her complain again. She squeezed her face in worry. “Seriously. Could you stand in the Nigerian sun just to welcome a random man?”

“Random?” He chortled. Inhaling, he spoke, “I still don't get why you keep advocating for people who are just doing their job.”

Again, she shook her head in disgust.

For the last one year plus they had been married, she wasn't someone to spend a second without complaining about one thing about this ‘rich family’. So, as usual, she started, “By the way, don't ever take me with you to the UK.”

“Oh, please,” he retorted, his gaze on her. His full eyebrows squeezed into something that looked like a frown, and since they weren't in the building yet, he thought this was an opportunity to scold her as usual. In a  low and angry tone, he continued, “You spent most of yesterday's meeting time outside the conference room, claiming to have gone to the restroom.”

“Well…” She looked at him, shrugged, and raised her eyebrows. “Who am I to control nature? You woke me up by 4am so how can you expect me to not have fallen asleep?”

“Who falls asleep while standing in an elevator!”

She threw her left hand in the air but he swiftly tugged her towards him before she did something crazy, but she still yelled, “Me! When I don't get enough sleep.”