Chapter Twenty

The day Jamal arrived, the house was abuzz with activity. The staff had ensured everything

was immaculate, and Angella's parents were excited to see him. The moment Jamal

stepped out of the car, the household welcomed him warmly, and he greeted them with a

genuine smile. Angella's parents guided him into the living room, where they all settled in.

Jamal, a man in his late 20s, stood tall and confident. His dark complexion and athletic build

exuded elegance. Olatunde, who was present, extended a handshake, recognizing him from

earlier business encounters.

"Long time, Jamal," Olatunde said with a smile.

"Good to see you again, man," Jamal replied firmly.

As they chatted briefly, Angella's mother called her downstairs to join them. Angella

appeared after a few minutes, her light makeup highlighting her natural beauty.

Jamal's face lit up as he saw her. The sight of Angella stirred memories of his teenage

crush. He couldn't deny the feelings that lingered.

"You've grown into an amazing young woman," Jamal said, unable to hide his admiration.

Angella smiled shyly. "And you've grown too. I hope you brought Dubai goodies along."

Jamal chuckled. "Of course! I remember you and my sister trying to turn everything pink

back in the day."

"How is Alimah? She didn't even invite me when she gave birth," Angella teased.

"She's doing great," Jamal replied. "Living in the States with her husband, though. You know

how they are about ceremonies; they keep it simple."

The banter flowed naturally, but to Angella, Jamal was nothing more than an older brother.

Her father, however, observed their interaction with hope, sensing a possible connection.

Before leaving, Jamal gifted Angella a set of designer items—a pink bag, earrings, and a

wristwatch. Angella thanked him warmly, but her heart remained elsewhere.

Later, Angella's father asked her, "So, what do you think of Jamal?"

"He's amazing," Angella replied. "But, Dad, don't forget Kunle is visiting next week.

Her father sighed, masking his disappointment. He wished Angella saw Jamal as more than

family, but he respected her feelings.

The day before Kunle's visit, Olatunji arrived home to inform his parents about his girlfriend,

Temilade, and her intention to visit them soon.

"She'll be here in the next three or four days," he announced over dinner.

"Thank God!" his mother exclaimed. "Please tell her I can't wait to meet her. What does she

like? I'll prepare something special for her."

Olatunji smiled. "She's not picky, Mum. She'll appreciate anything you make."

His father nodded approvingly. "I'm proud of you, son. You're at the right age to settle down.

Bring her here; I want to bless your union."

"Thank you, Dad," Olatunji replied, feeling grateful for his family's support.

When Kunle arrived the following day, he was dressed modestly in a neatly ironed shirt and

trousers. The family welcomed him warmly, and the atmosphere was polite but slightly

formal. After some casual conversation, they served him a meal. Kunle ate with care,

complimenting the cooking to Angella's mother.

After the meal, Angella's father invited Kunle to the study for a private chat.

"So, young man," he began. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Kunle responded confidently, "I love her, sir, and I want to marry her. I want to spend forever

with her."

Her father raised an eyebrow. "How about your parents? What do they think about this?"

Kunle hesitated slightly but replied, "They're both late, sir. But I do have extended family

members who are aware."

"I'm sorry to hear that," her father said solemnly. "And what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a freelancer and an architect, sir," Kunle replied.

Her father nodded but didn't probe further. "I don't have much to say for now. Just take care

of my daughter. She means the world to me. Let us know when you're ready to take the next

step."

Kunle thanked him graciously, and the meeting ended.

After Kunle left, Angella's father called Olatunde into his study.

"Something about him feels off," he said. "I can't explain it, but I don't trust him. Look into

him."

"Trust me, Dad," Olatunde replied. "It's already on my mind. I took his picture discreetly and

will dig into his background."

"Good," his father said firmly. "Let me know what you find."

The following day, Olatunde called Angella into their father's study. He showed them detailed

findings on Kunle's life, gathered from social media and personal sources.

Kunle was exposed as a womanizer and a gigolo, known for dating wealthy women and

leaving them heartbroken. The pictures showed him with multiple women, indulging in

extravagant lifestyles. Some even revealed him smoking and partying recklessly.

Angella's heart sank as she stared at the evidence. Her chest tightened with disbelief and

humiliation. "This can't be true," she whispered, but the proof was undeniable.

Her father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard, but I couldn't let

you walk into this blindly. He doesn't deserve you."

Olatunde added sternly, "If I see him near you again, he'll regret it. You deserve someone

better, Angella."

Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to process the betrayal. The dream of love she had built with Kunle crumbled, leaving her heart shattered.

The betrayal hit Angella harder than she ever imagined. She sat on her bed, her hands

shaking as she held her phone. Her father's revelations about Kunle's true nature had

shattered every ounce of trust she had placed in him. The images and stories of his

escapades replayed in her mind like a cruel, taunting slideshow.

Tears streamed down her face as she recalled his charming smile and gentle words. Was it

all a lie? she thought. The way he looked at her, the promises he made—it was as though

she had been living in a carefully constructed fantasy.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was Kunle calling again. She glared

at the screen, her chest heaving with anger. How dare he still try to contact her?

The call ended, but within seconds, a message from him appeared.

Kunle: "Angella, please, talk to me. I don't understand why you're ignoring me. Did

something happen with your dad? I can explain!"

Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling with a mix of rage and heartbreak. Finally,

she opened the chat and began typing, the words pouring out of her like venom.

Angella: "You're a monster, Kunle. How could you? I trusted you! Was it all a game to you?

Were you planning to scam me too, just like the others? Don't ever contact me again."

She hit send, blocking him immediately before he could respond. She threw the phone onto

the bed, curling up in a ball as sobs wracked her body.

Alone in her room, Angella's mind raced through every moment she had shared with Kunle.

His sweet words, his laughter, the way he had held her hand so confidently—all of it now

seemed like a rehearsed act.

She remembered their first meeting, how effortlessly he had charmed her with his polite

demeanor. He had seemed so genuine, so perfect. But was he just studying her, trying to

figure out the best way to exploit her?

Angella clutched her chest as the pain intensified. She felt used, betrayed, and humiliated.

The thought that she had almost introduced him to her friends, even dreamed of a future

with him, made her feel sick.

Her father's words echoed in her mind: "That guy is not real. I knew something was off about

him."

Why didn't I see it too? she thought, guilt gnawing at her. Her father had always protected

her, and yet she had been so blinded by Kunle's charm that she ignored the signs.

She sat up, her face streaked with tears. "Never again," she whispered to herself. "I will

never let anyone play with my heart like this again."

As the hours passed, Angella's heartbreak slowly turned into resolve. She wiped her face,

stood up, and walked to the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her—eyes red and swollen,

but still holding a glimmer of strength.

"This isn't the end for me," she said softly. "I deserve better."

Though her heart was broken, Angella promised herself that this experience would not

define her. She would heal, she would rise, and she would become stronger than ever.

While Angella stayed in her room, trying to piece together the fragments of her broken heart,

Olatunde was fuming. The revelation about Kunle had ignited a rage within him that he

couldn't suppress. He couldn't just sit back and watch his sister suffer at the hands of

someone so deceitful.

Determined to confront Kunle, Olatunde grabbed his car keys and stormed out of the house.

His father didn't stop him; he trusted Olatunde to handle it.

Kunle's rented apartment was modest but neat. When Olatunde arrived, he banged on the

door, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway.

Kunle opened the door, looking surprised to see him. "Olatunde?" he said cautiously. "What

are you doing here?"

Olatunde pushed past him into the apartment, his jaw tight, his fists clenched. "You're lucky

I'm not here to do worse," he snarled.

Kunle shut the door and turned to face him. "What's this about?"

"You know exactly what it's about," Olatunde snapped. "You thought you could play games

with my sister? You thought you could use her like one of your countless victims? I'm here to

tell you it ends now."

Kunle raised his hands, trying to calm the situation. "Look, I know what you've heard, but it's

not what you think. I've changed, Olatunde. I'm not that man anymore."

Olatunde's laugh was bitter. "Changed? You're a liar and a fraud, Kunle. You don't change

overnight." He stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. "Do you think I'll let someone like

you near my sister? She's too good for you. You don't deserve her."

Kunle's expression shifted, a mix of guilt and desperation. "I admit I've made mistakes, but I

swear, I care about Angella. She's different. She makes me want to be better."

"Save your lies," Olatunde said, his anger boiling over. "You don't 'care' about anyone but

yourself. You're just trying to manipulate her like all the others."

"I'm serious, Olatunde," Kunle insisted, his voice rising. "I like her. I want to change for her.

Give me a chance to prove it!"

That was the last straw. Without warning, Olatunde's fist connected with Kunle's jaw, sending

him staggering backward. Kunle stumbled but caught himself, holding his face in shock.

"Stay away from my sister," Olatunde growled, his voice like steel. "If I ever see you near her

again, you'll regret it."

Kunle wiped his mouth, blood staining his hand. "You don't understand—"

"No, you don't understand!" Olatunde roared. "You're done. You've lost any chance you had.

If you try to contact her again, I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life."

With that, Olatunde turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Back in his car, Olatunde gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to calm himself. He had

done what needed to be done. No one would hurt his sister while he was around.

As he drove back home, he thought about Angella. She deserved someone who would

cherish her, someone honest and kind. Kunle was none of those things.

When he got home, Olatunde went straight to his father's room to report what had

happened.

"He claims he's changed," Olatunde said, still seething. "But I don't buy it. I warned him to

stay away from Angella."

His father nodded approvingly. "Good. That's what needed to be done. Thank you, Olatunde.

Now let's make sure Angella knows she deserves better."

Olatunde sighed, the anger slowly giving way to sadness. "She'll get through this, Dad.

She's strong."

"She is," his father agreed. "And so are you. Thank you for protecting her."

Olatunde nodded and left the room, hoping his actions had sent a clear message. Kunle was out of their lives for good—or so he hoped.