Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 17
Why did I wear flat shoes? High heels gave me a certain kind of confidence, one that I needed badly here. Two sisters raised a song and the others joined in. There were more handshakes, more smiles and I gradually relaxed.
And then it happened. I met the man who would later throw me into the mud, roll me over like dough on a chopping board and with a table knife patiently chip off caked mud from my skin and feed each piece to me and afterwards force me to say, ‘This tastes better than chocolate.’ He was the right hand man of the devil.
‘Welcome.’ He grinned. I shook his outstretched hand.
In those few seconds, I found myself moved by his appearance. Dark brown eyes framed by well-shaped brows. The irresistible calmness that sat on his beautiful face disturbed me greatly. There was something mysterious about his unspoken words, something that got you curious, that made you want to dig and find out what held him together.
‘You finished from FUTA?’ he asked.
I shook my head. He let go of my hand. My eyes followed him to his seat and when he sat down, our eyes locked and he smiled. Who for goodness sake was he?
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