The last time I vomited was when Janet's grandma gave me a meal prepared with chia seed.

It was on one of those days that I followed her home to see her elderly grandparents. 

Although the old woman had felt guilty for my predicament, I had calmly assured her that it was not her fault at all.

I rinsed my mouth off and examined myself in the giant mirror in front of me.

The realization that I could be pregnant suddenly hits me, leaving me totally disturbed. I quickly push off the thought and clean up hastily to avoid attracting undue attention from my over-inquisitive colleagues. On my way home, I branched into a nearby pharmacy and got myself a pregnancy test kit. It was safer to run the test at home. Going to the hospital would warrant suspicion and thus expose whatever secret I was holding back. I kept praying for the result to be negative. It had to be. “A one-night stand can’t result in pregnancy,” I assured myself, although a part of me frowned at my obvious stupidity. At home, I peel off my dress before splashing water on my greasy body. Feeling calmer, I opened the test kit and read the instructions out loudly, as if to remind myself of some hidden cautions to hearken to. Afterwards, I carefully inserted it as instructed and watched in amazement as the lines pelted from one shaky line to two visible lines. “This can’t be possible," I exclaimed, covering my face as tears found their way to my face. "Never have I ever been so callous in my life. The weight of what has just happened pulls down on me, suddenly leaving me in obvious pain. My family would never forgive me for this. I needed to act as fast as possible. And the only thought that came to my mind was to abort the child. As I battle with my mind over what to finally do with the pregnancy, my phone rings out. Why on earth was he calling? It wasn’t work time. "Hello,” acting unaffected by the sudden call. “Come over to my house right now.” The line suddenly goes off, and then silence and more silence until I find myself questioning the sanity of my boss. “Who does he think is who he is to bark orders at me?” At that moment, I wished I had turned off my phone or probably placed it in flight mode. It was 7:30 p.m. and a bit too late to step out. My strict father always made sure we were at home before 7:00 p.m. Even as an adult, he didn’t relent in disciplining my siblings and me if we made the mistake of staying out late. Although I was independent now, I still feared something bad could happen if I broke the rule. Call it superstition; I couldn't agree less. The first time I broke the rule was the night I went to the general’s welcome party. The second time would probably be now, as I took a deep stare at the direction he sent via SMS on my phone. The ride to the Nicholas Mansion was disturbing. The Uber driver kept making silly faces at me each time I caught a glimpse of his face through the rear mirror. I murmured silent prayers and was shocked when he uttered a loud “amen” in return. “You’re definitely the weirdest driver ever,” I managed to say, catching his glare boldly. “Yeah, only when I see very pretty ladies.” His next words make me throw caution into the air, and I ask him to drop me off by the roadside. I paid him off and watched him smile gleefully as I made for another taxi. The mansion was finely built, and the interior decorations were all made of silver, from the lights to the furniture and the picture designs. I took in the wideness of the sitting room. It was bigger than my entire family house put together. I wasn’t expecting a shortfall from the almighty Nicholas’. They were visibly one of the wealthiest families in town. I was caught in the exploration and didn’t even notice a presence with me in the sitting room. My boss was seated on a single-seater sofa, his legs crossed in his usual manner. I have a mild cough, and my attention is shifted back to reality. Why is he always catching me unaware? Does he always enjoy doing this?

“I want to make you an offer; you could say no if it’s not okay with you.” 

“What offer is that?” I returned, feeling my heart thud in a strange rhythm.

“I want you to marry me." 

The words hit me harder than the day I crashed into a door while sleep-walking. As I open my mouth to reject the offer, he cuts me off, a gesture I immediately understood to mean that he was not done talking.

“ I will give you $20 million in return. ” A smirk curves at the corner of his lips as the outrageous amount slowly leaves his mouth.

“Why pay me to marry you? 

“You will find out only when you agree to my proposal.”