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Though, as he was leaving, he asked Timi to walk with him, much to Nonso's horror, who had been buzzing around him, hoping for a pat on his cleanly-shaven head.

“Would you make me regret choosing you?” Agu asked as they approached his convoy of black Lexus jeeps.

Timi threw him a sharp glance, but his fleshy face held no expression.

He did this a lot. This veiled intimidation he routinely sprang on people even when he knew nothing.

Timi had seen it work many times. Those who had ulterior motives got rattled and fumbled.

And those who were genuine, dared not act funny.

He knew this, yet his heart thumped with trepidation. “That depends,” he returned as casually as he could muster.

Agu paused at the door of the sleekest one. “On?”

“Would you make me look like a low-budget, grey-skinned Rambo because your monetary might is too weak to create a Masterpiece like Red Tinsel?”

There was a stunned silence, with the clowns staring at him like he'd grown horns, then Agu was laughing. So hard, he dissolved into coughing fits.

He waved off offers of handkerchiefs. “You see, son, this is what makes you special. Won't you come for dinner? The wife will be glad.”

Lillian Obaego Nwabufor. A hauntingly beautiful woman who moved with the shadows, staying completely away from her husband's spotlight.

Timi could count the number of times he'd seen her, and if he hadn't heard her speak to her kids, he would assume she was dumb.

She being glad to see him was one of the many lies Agu had taken to spewing.

“We crossed that bridge a long time ago,” he said quietly.

“I see,” Agu murmured. “You should uncross it, Lawson. The future is long. You and me? We’re good together.” His gaze sought Alex who had come out with Timi. “Still think being his assistant is the best you can do, Alexander?”

“I have no complaints,” Alex said.

“Of course. Of course.” He climbed into the car. “Well, see you around, boys.”

It was only when they'd driven off, Timi figured part of what made him so tensed up was the anticipation of receiving another cryptic note. Every time he'd gotten one, Agu had been present.

Had he secretly passed a loyalty test by ignoring them, and Agu wanted to reward him with dinner? He couldn't put it past him to come up with such shit.

On the last day of training, which landed on Good Friday, with Maxwell's bellows of ' fantastic! phenomenal performance !' still reverberating around the hall, D’Yoyo sought Timi out where he had his head thrown back, receiving a stream of water into his parched throat.

“You two look completely ridiculous,” he said, stopping some steps below where Timi sat on the gym stands.

Timi took more gulps, before bringing his head down. “D'Yoyo!” he beamed. “Seems swallowing your words made you plumper.”

Over the weeks, D'Yoyo had observed Timi's progress till his doubtful frowns had given way to grudging respect. Timi was good at his job, and it pleased him to see D'Yoyo beginning to appreciate that.

D'Yoyo didn't bother hiding a disgusted grimace. “I wonder how Haz_brothers and co coped with you.”

“I'm charming,” Timi said, sprawling in the plastic chair. “Not my fault your lack of personality can't recognise charm.” Alex chose the moment to lean over with a napkin, and he raised his face so he could get all his chin angles.

“Jesus Christ,” D'Yoyo muttered. He scowled at Alex. “I hope you know you're not obligated to do whatever this idiot is making you do?”

Timi stole a look at Alex. His button nose and full brows were scrunched in concentration. A grown man shouldn't be so effortlessly cute, but he could never be found championing such an uninformed argument .

“Why?” He spoke around the napkin gently dabbing his upper lip. “Want him to wipe your mouth too? Perhaps with bleach?”

D'Yoyo kept his eyes on Alex. “And you know he doesn't have to speak for you?”

Alex stopped dabbing and leaned back into his seat beside Timi.

He stuffed the napkin into the backpack he'd been carrying since work fully resumed, before sparing D'Yoyo a glance.

“I'm well aware of my job description and when I'm required to speak, Mr. Yohanna,” he said tonelessly.

“The more important question is, are you?”

While Timi choked on a laugh, D'Yoyo shook his head. “Na me fuck up sha. Do you have any complaints about the schedule and locations?”

“Nope,” Timi said. “I'm submitting myself fully into your capable hands.”

Muttering something like 'dick', he stalked off.

“Such a sweet, sweet man.” He grinned at Alex. “You don't like D'Yoyo very much. What has he done to you? Forgive him, will you?”

Alex frowned. “He's unnecessarily rude and doesn't respect you.”

He laughed through an expanding heart. “I actually prefer people like that. With them, you know where you stand. Again, I'm the same.”

Alex's frown deepened. “You're neither rude nor disrespectful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“I know,” Alex said firmly. “You joke. You deflect. Sometimes, exhibit some childlike attributes. But all done within the boundaries of respect.”

His skin tingled. “What an elaborate way of calling me childish.”

Alex stood, then reached out his hand, eyes snagging his. “Childishness connotes negativity. Your actions are the opposite. They are…cute. Very cute.”

He fumbled for words. Should being called cute knock his breath out of his lungs?

How could Alex call him such with a straight face?

Agreed, he'd thought him cute so many times, but that had been in his head.

Alex had voiced his. Was this an indication he was done playing this 'if you ignore it hard enough, it will disappear ' game Timi had cowardly initiated?

He placed his hand in Alex's and let himself get pulled up.

Alex must have added extra strength to the yank, because it brought him right up to his face.

So close, Alex's warm breath wafted across his lips like a tentative first kiss.

They both went still, Alex's fingers flexing around Timi's palm they still gripped, and Timi's eyes drinking in the perfect symmetry of Alex's sculpted face.

In those brown eyes, the gentle purity that was Alex's soul, glimmered. Brightly enticing. And Timi's tainted one hobbled at the entrance, too scared to connect.

His eyelids trembled under the force of Alex's smouldering stare, and his knees might have given out if the sudden ringing of a phone hadn't pierced through the air. He wobbled backwards as Alex pulled off his backpack, rummaging for the office phone.

Alex's Adam's apple bobbed in a hard swallow, little tremors plaguing the hand holding the phone. “Jeere.” He listened for some seconds before handing the phone to Timi.

Timi accepted, clearing his throat. “Nej?”

“Suya Haven called,” she said. “It's been a while they sent suya and masa. Have you been skipping meals again?”

“And risk Maxwell and D'Yoyo chewing me alive?” He trailed after Alex who had begun descending the stairs. “Didn't Alex tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He's been bringing snacks for me. Egg rolls, bread, fruit cake. Smoothie too.”

Nothing came from Nejeere's end.

“Nej?”

She coughed. “Did he…did he prepare them himself?”

Could Alex bake? Didn't he hate cooking? He'd assumed he bought them from the pastry kitchen he loved to visit, and Timi had borne in mind to add the expenses to his salary. “I don't know. I didn't think to ask him. Should I?”

“No!” Nejeere burst out. Then, repeated softly, “No. It's okay. I…it's alright. There's been a recent development, but I don't want you to freak out.”

His steps halted. Dread spiking. He'd been alternating between number 9 and 10 on viral trends lately.

An extraordinary feat, considering how he'd managed to stay at the top 5 for close to a month.

Sporax Media, who'd remained elusive with the last intelligence report placing the ip address of their latest post in Abu Dhabi, still made sure the conversation didn't drift too far from him.

But with lack of additional evidence, Jude and Timi Lawson's marriage had simply become an unconfirmed tasteless obscenity awaiting the long arm of the law.

“What is it?” he asked, avoiding Alex's heavy gaze from where he stood in the middle of the hall.

“Your address leaked.”

“The main house?”

“Yes. The Sporax orangutan is claiming it as proof of your double life. Where you lived with your… husband .”

The pain he felt this time was double layered. “Who talked?” he whispered.

“Uh? All ex-assistants? How do we proceed with this? Those vultures must be camped at your gate now.”

Timi shook his head. “Not possible. Reason I chose the estate. Unless they hide, the police will have a field day arresting.”

“I'd have said we reached out to all previous assistants, but if we're not careful, you could be accused of bullying.”

Timi gripped his forehead. “Just…no comment for now. Is there anything else?”

Nejeere hesitated. “Mr. Joshua Dressman. He called again. And this time, he's threatening to go public. He mentioned Koro-something becoming your unprecedented nemesis.”

Timi's heart dropped. He felt Alex's gaze boring into him. “Ewekoro?”

“Yes. What has that place got to do with you?”

Timi could barely hear anything beyond the ringing in his ears. “Send me his address. Now.”