20 years later
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Diana Nicolson took one gentle stride after another, down the perfectly glazed staircase into the large glamorously designed ballroom that housed elite-looking guests.

It could not be anything short of perfect because she'd carefully designed it herself. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the arching white ceiling. The walls were white and spotless and the marble floor polished to perfection. The reflective surface of the glass windows added aesthetic pleasure, as well as the red and white roses whose fragrance, was welcoming and heartwarming.

Diana beamed with pride.

Knowing that the invitees would already be satisfied from her careful attention to detail, there was only one thing left to do. It happened to be just what she knew how to do best. Stand pretty, throw fake smiles around, take a bow or two, all in a futile effort to entertain her husband's guests.

It wasn't surprising that the moment she'd stepped in, other elegant women seemed to have phased out momentarily, leaving her in the spotlight. The center of attraction.

All glances were directed towards her. Some in admiration, some in utter envy, watching the charisma in each step. She gave a light wave and flashed a smile at them, feeling like a beauty queen on her pageant runway once again.

To say that Diana was beautiful would be a large injustice. Her peculiar features made her outstanding and breathtaking. She had an unduly attraction. Fiercely enticing amber eyes that lured you in at a glance which was unusual for a black woman. Her skin was healthy and flawless. She had all the curves at all the right places. Truly a spectacular finish, even God would be proud of his handwork.

She finally descended the last staircase and with all eyes on her, she walked towards her husband and placed her hands in his outstretched palm.

"Happy birthday, my love," she whispered the words with a smile playing on her lips as Harry Nicolson took in her appearance so keenly.

Seeing him watch her like that with so much interest as his adam's apple bobbed up and down his throat, gave her such an exhilarating feeling as though butterflies had been released in her stomach.

And it was not because she loved him.

She didn't.

Over the last few months, she'd felt mostly invisible to him it made her sick. The plan was to go all out tonight and give him something he could not resist. That was why she worked extra hard and spent so much money on a lavish white, flowery ball gown, a curly blonde wig, and the best makeup she could lay hands on. 

With the look on his face, she was almost certain her effort was not in vain. The admiration in his eyes was a reassurance that she was still as appealing as 13 years ago when they tied the knot barely two months after he got separated from his fifth wife.

Rumor had it that he usually got divorced from his wives as soon as he no longer found them attractive.

Diana did not care if that was indeed a trend, but she was going to make sure it would never be the case for her. Of course, there were so many tricks in the book. Regular spa visits, exercise, strict diet control, even a few plastic surgery procedures. 

She thrived for his attention and would go any lengths to keep things between them just the way they were. 

"You look spectacular, my dear," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a light kiss on it.

"Thanks," she replied with a smile, and usually, for courtesy's sake, she would've thrown in a little compliment. However, something about the atmosphere and the way her tight-fitted dress tugged at her abdomen, refrained her from feeding him lies.

His protruded belly, grey hair, and the regular suit he stubbornly insisted on wearing — even after all her effort to persuade him otherwise — , showed how much effort he made to hide the fact that he was a 65-year-old man.

She didn't have to think so hard why such was the case. It was crystal clear that she was the trophy and he was the athlete drenched in sweat, showing her off to the world. The reward for many years of working hard and procuring trillions of naira to his name.

Harry began to guide her around the hall, introducing her to his guests comprising of senators and fellow business tycoons.

Diana had only overheard whispers of him assuming a political position in the forthcoming election. He hardly spoke to her about any work-related issues, because he was one of those men that thought women were nothing more than objects of admiration.

She didn't care about his opinions or patriarchal views, just as much as she didn't care about what business venture or political move he was delving into. She only cared about her position as his wife and having more than enough money at her disposal to spend as she pleased.

"Meet Senator and Mrs. Williams," Harry carried on redundantly and Diana responded with a stiff smile to the huge man standing in front of them with his wife by his side. Her cheeks were already hurting, same with her feet but she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind.

Being a beauty queen meant smiling through the pain, being a trophy wife offered very little aberration. 

"The lovely Diana, I've heard so much about you. So nice to finally meet you," said Mr. Williams as he took lustful glances at her through the glasses that rested on his nose.

She chuckled. "Good things I hope."

"My daughter insists you're her fashion icon. She follows you on all these modern social media things," he replied extending his hands for a shake.

"Oh, I'm honored," Diana said accepting his handshake.

Mrs. Williams must've noticed the way he looked at Diana and how his hand lingered on hers as they shook and with the frown on her face, it was easy to tell that she was not pleased.

Diana could not care less. Women being jealous of her was normal and welcome.

She was about to greet the senator's wife when her phone rang in her purse, startling her a bit. She had to take it out to hang up immediately before she earned a disproving look from Harry.

However, on seeing the caller I.D 'Daniel P.I', all color seemed to drain from her face.

She hung up and turned off her phone, throwing it back into her purse without hesitating.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked as they walked away from the couple. She forced a smile and nodded in response. If he'd had doubts about the verity of her reply, he chose to remain quiet about it much to her relief.

The next few hours of the party were mostly a blur. Diana kept zoning out, wondering why exactly the private investigator she'd hired would be calling.

Daniel hardly called. All he did was send monthly updates to an anonymous mail so their dealings would be as discrete as possible. Her phone number was only relayed to him for use in case of emergency.

Was this an emergency? Was it something she was ready to face? How would she deal with it? What would happen if Harry found out what she was up to?

Nothing seemed to relieve or bring her mind back to a ball she'd so carefully designed. Not even when the live orchestra rendered the blue Danube, her favorite song, and she was forced to waltz with her husband.

She stepped on his foot at least three times till he'd finally given up on her. As soon as the song was over, he moved away and went back to mingling with his colleagues.

Diana slipped out of the party without failing to mention to the butler that she was feeling a little dizzy and wanted to rest a bit in case Harry came looking for her.

As soon as she got into her bedroom, she shut the door and leaned against it. After taking a deep breath, she took out her phone, turned it on, and returned Daniel's call.

"What did I say about randomly placing a call to me?" She attacked him, taking quick steps towards her king-sized bed.

"I-I... Good evening, Mrs. Nicolson."

She rolled her eyes. She'd already thrown courtesy to the wind, there was no need for a do-over.

"You should've sent me an e-mail."

"I did. Twice. Two days ago and another one this morning," he replied.

She sighed. That was very possible. She'd been so tied up with putting the event together that she completely forgot to check that mailbox.

The fact that he was so persistent to talk to her could only mean one thing and she dreaded to find out what it was. "Anything new?" She asked.

Daniel cleared his throat over the phone. "Yes. In fact, there is good news."

Diana sat on the edge of her bed and massaged her temples. There was nothing 'good' about this situation. No news was always the best news.

"What is it?"

"I have a very strong lead, Mrs. Nicolson. I'm almost certain that it is him. We need to meet up so I can give you more details and we can take further steps from there," his voice rang with enthusiasm.

Diana would've liked to be sure that they were on the same page. That he was really speaking about a child she'd abandoned 20 years ago. But before she could summon the words or the courage, the door was swung open and Harry proceeded in.

"I'll keep in touch," she shuffled the words and hung up immediately.

"Who was that?" Harry asked.

"Oh..." She paused to catch her breath and think. "Just the florist. I had to call to thank her for those beautiful roses. I'm so extra, I know." She chuckled.

"They were indeed beautiful," Harry complimented and it was such a win because he was sometimes very difficult to please. "But you know what was most beautiful tonight?"

She quirked her brows, enquiringly with a smile on her face.

"You, my darling wife," he said taking steps closer to her. He placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her. "The guests are already leaving, do well to greet them. But don't stay too long, I'll be here waiting," he added, caressing her cheek and running his hand down her arm.

She had to maintain the smile on her face, as she struggled to ignore the stench of alcohol on his breath.

Diana nodded, pretending to be the obedient wife she was, which was a perfect escape to avoid his advances tonight. She stayed as long as possible, making sure every last guest had left the premises and the place was being tidied up before she returned to her bedroom.

Just as she hoped and expected, Harry was already fast asleep, snoring loudly.

She sat on the bed and put on her noise-canceling headphones. At this point, she could only wish there were devices that could do more to cancel thoughts, memories, and even emotions.

A/N

There you have the first chapter!
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