By Nightengale Ben-Onyeukwu
‘I’m not the kind of girl you can mould into
what you want.’
‘You aren’t ordinary,
and I don’t hope to mould you into what I want… you’re beautiful and my
heartbeat… I don’t care whether you’re poor or rich. I love you for who you
are,’ he whispered. ‘You’re an angel. I love you so much, my woman.’
Chioma stood in place, confused. She would never
believe in a billion years that such a nobleman would come begging to be her
beau. She felt that the whole scene was so unreal. She barely knew this man
except for the stories she read about him on papers and heard from rumours. His
statement was an order, one that didn’t seem to have any room for objections.
She knew that such a man at the pinnacle had that kind of power. With his
family background, Michael was looked up like a god. But today, he was here begging for love from a lowly woman, a
woman without any status ranking, a woman not regarded as beautiful or breathtaking.
But she was the most beautiful woman in the eyes of Michael Njemanze.
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