The late afternoon sun beat down on the busy Lagos street, horns blaring, voices clashing, and tempers running hotter than the weather. Gill's little Toyota came to a jerking stop as she slammed her palm on the steering wheel.
"Unbelievable!" she hissed, leaning out of the window.
Ahead of her, a sleek black sedan had cut across two lanes and stopped right in the middle of the road as if the entire street belonged to it. Drivers behind her honked in frustration, but the man responsible for the traffic mess didn't even move.
Gill shoved her door open, her heels clicking furiously on the asphalt as she stormed toward the car.
"Hey!" she barked, knocking on the tinted window. "Are you blind or just stupid? Move your damn car!"
For a moment there was silence. Then, slowly, the driver's side window slid down, revealing a man whose calmness irritated her more than the traffic jam he had caused.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and dark hair that caught the fading sunlight. His eyes were cool, sharp, and amused—rested on her as if she were some curious spectacle.
"Do you usually scream at strangers in the middle of the road?" he asked smoothly.
Gill planted her hands on her hips, unbothered by his deep voice or the dangerous charm in his face. "Do you usually block traffic and act like you own the street? Move your car before I call LASTMA!"
The man chuckled, leaning back lazily in his seat. "You're fiery. I like that."
Gill's eyes widened. "Excuse me? This is not a compliment competition. Move your damn car."
He tilted his head, studying her with unsettling ease. "Why are you in such a hurry? Where's the fire?"
"The fire," Gill snapped, "is about to be under your tires if you don't move them this second!"
A few onlookers had started to gather, amused at the sight of the slim, sharp-tongued woman facing down the owner of what was obviously a very expensive car. Some muttered for her to let it go, but Gill wasn't the type to swallow pride or back down.
The man finally opened the door and stepped out. He was taller than she had expected, his presence commanding even without saying a word. He adjusted his cuff casually, ignoring the angry drivers behind them.
"Go back to your car," he said quietly. "The road will clear soon."
Gill let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you mad? You think you can stop the world because you feel like it? Mister, I don't care how much your car costs, you're not better than anyone else here. So either you move it, or I get someone to drag it out of the way."
Instead of being offended, the man's lips curved into a slow smirk. "You're interesting."
Her jaw tightened. "And you're irritating. I've wasted enough time on you."
She turned sharply, muttering curses under her breath as she marched back to her Toyota. The black sedan still didn't move, but when she looked in the rearview mirror, she saw the man watching her with that same unreadable smile.
Gill gritted her teeth. "Men like that are the reason blood pressure medication sells in this country" she muttered.
By the time the traffic eased, she had vowed never to cross paths with that arrogant stranger again.
The stranger, however, had other thoughts.
Inside the black sedan, the man leaned back against the leather seat, a spark of something unfamiliar tugging at him. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to talk to him like that. Longer still since a woman had looked him in the eye without either fear or greed.
"Sir?" A voice came from the passenger seat. His assistant, neatly dressed and perpetually cautious, had watched the entire exchange with wide eyes.
The man's smirk deepened. "Find out who she is."
The assistant was dumfounded. "Pardon?"
"The woman. The one with the sharp tongue and the old Toyota. I want her name, where she works, everything."
"Sir, you usually don't...."
"Just do it," he cut in, his voice suddenly steel. "Don't question me."
The assistant swallowed, nodding quickly. "Yes, sir."
As the car finally pulled away from the road, the man rested his chin on his hand, replaying the scene in his mind. Her fiery eyes, her boldness, the way she hadn't flinched under his gaze—it was intoxicating.
For years, women had thrown themselves at him for his money, his power, his empire. But she… she didn't even know who he was. And she didn't care.
That made her the most dangerous woman he had ever met. And for the first time in a long time, the billionaire felt alive.
Later that evening, Gill slammed the door of her small apartment and tossed her bag onto the couch. Her younger brother, Tega, popped his head out from the kitchen.
"Why are you frowning like you just fought with a demon?" he asked.
Gill kicked off her heels. "Because I practically did. Some idiot in a black car decided to block the entire road and act like he was the President of the world. If arrogance were a disease, that man would be in the ICU."
Tega laughed, shaking his head. "You and your mouth, Gill. One day, you'll insult the wrong person."
"Let them try me," she muttered, heading to her room. "The world should know I don't bow for anybody."
But as she lay on her bed later, staring at the ceiling, she found herself remembering his face—the calm arrogance, the lazy smirk, the way he had looked at her like she was some puzzle he wanted to solve.
Gill huffed and rolled over. "Nonsense," she told herself. "He's nothing but trouble."
She had no idea how right she was.
Meanwhile, in a penthouse far above the city, the man she despised poured himself a glass of whiskey. His assistant stood by the desk, holding a file.
"Sir, about the woman," the assistant began cautiously. "Her name is Gillian Okoye. People call her Gill. She works at a mid-sized company—family-owned. Very stubborn reputation, according to my sources. She's… not someone who bends easily." The billionaire's lips twitched into a smile. "Perfect."
The assistant frowned. "Sir, forgive me, but… you don't chase women. So, wy her?"
The man swirled his drink, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Because she's not chasing me. She's the first person in years to look at me and see nothing but a nuisance. That kind of woman… doesn't come twice."
The assistant hesitated. "And what do you plan to do?"
The billionaire leaned back, his smirk widening. "What I always do. Get what I want. And this time, what I want is her."
He took a slow sip, his mind already spinning with plans. Tomorrow, he would make his move.
Gill thought she had won the battle on the road. She didn't know she had just declared war on a man who could buy her entire world with a single phone call and yet, chose instead to step into hers.