Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten – Pepper Snails and Power Plays

Tammy was officially in her "just surviving rich people" era, and if someone didn't invent a support group for girls who accidentally married billionaires, she might just code one herself.

She was at brunch again. Why? Because apparently rich people didn't eat for hunger—they gathered to flex wealth and judge people over bottomless mimosas.

Jeremy's mom had organized another "intimate gathering," which was basically code for Let Me Parade My Son's Wife So Everyone Can See I'm Tolerating Her.

Tammy sat across from Lady Adebayo, smiling through gritted teeth, every fake compliment like a mosquito buzzing in her ear.

"So, Tamilore," the older woman began, smiling with her eyes just barely veiling the daggers, "how are you adjusting? Still managing to keep up, I hope?"

"I'm managing," Tammy replied sweetly. "Turns out survival is my strong suit."

Lady Adebayo's left eye twitched. Jeremy, seated beside her, took a sip of his drink to hide the smirk curling his lips.

"I must say," she continued, "it's nice to see you… trying."

"Thank you," Tammy said brightly. "That's exactly what your staff told me when I finally learned how to pronounce Balenciaga."

Rita, seated next to her, nearly choked on her champagne.

Jeremy's mom blinked.

Across the table, a few socialites whispered. Probably wondering how this Mainland babe got a seat at the marble-top table. Tammy ignored them. She'd faced scarier things—like bugs in NEPA-less hostels.

"Don't mind them," Rita whispered into her glass. "You already won. You just need to start acting like it."

Tammy smiled. That was the thing. She wasn't trying to win.

She just didn't want to lose herself.

---

After brunch, Tammy was done being fake cute. She changed into sweatpants, flung off her wig, wrapped her curls in a scarf, and retreated to her favorite spot in the house: the secret back balcony no one else used.

Except today… Jeremy showed up.

With puff-puff.

"Peace offering," he said, holding up the bag like a sacrificial gift.

Tammy raised a brow. "Didn't know billionaires bought street snacks."

"I didn't. Wale sent them."

"Of course."

He sat beside her, quiet for once. The sky stretched open above them, warm and blue.

"You handled my mom like a pro," he said eventually.

Tammy rolled her eyes. "She thinks I'm tacky."

"She thinks everyone is tacky. Unless they're related to her or born on a yacht."

Tammy chuckled. "She kept calling me Tamilore, like I was the help."

Jeremy passed her the bag. "You want a new name?"

"Nope. Tammy's just fine."

She bit into a puff. He watched her like she held the answers to questions he hadn't figured out how to ask.

"So," she said between chews, "what's next on your family's list of torment? A polo match? A safari fundraiser for rich cats?"

Jeremy smiled. "Actually, next week is a tech investor dinner. You might want to show face."

"Tech?" Tammy blinked. "That's my zone."

"I know," he said casually. "Which is why I signed us up."

Tammy narrowed her eyes. "Is this a setup?"

"Relax. You'll just be standing next to me looking intimidating and slightly disinterested. It's your natural talent."

She smirked. "And here I thought you hated my face."

He looked at her. "I don't hate your face. Just your attitude."

"Right back at you, husband."

He looked away quickly, but not before she caught the twitch of a smile.

---

Meanwhile, back at the apartment Tayo had secretly rented downtown, chaos was brewing.

Tayo sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her fake Instagram account—yes, she had a burner finsta because villainy required stealth—while reading gossip comments under Tammy and Jeremy's latest paparazzi photo.

Most of the comments were annoying.

"They look so good together."

"Tammy's glowingggg."

"That dress?? Wifey material."

Disgusting.

"I made her," Tayo muttered, slamming her laptop shut. "I made her."

Which was true, technically. If she hadn't slipped the pills into that damn tea, Tammy wouldn't even be in this story. And if Tony hadn't double-crossed her and rerouted the plan, Tammy wouldn't have ended up in Jeremy's bed.

The whole thing was supposed to ruin her.

Instead… it upgraded her.

Tayo opened her messages. Tony hadn't texted back in two days. Sketch.

She opened another message. A new number. No name.

"She's getting too comfortable. Ready to move?"

Tayo smiled.

"Let's shake her foundation."

---

That night, Tammy was in her room coding.

Yes, coding. Because while the rich girls were doing shots at the club and posting "soft life" reels, she was building the thing that would set her free: CyraCode. Her little hacker business that no one knew she owned—except Anjii and Rita, of course.

Jeremy knew something. He wasn't stupid. But he hadn't pushed.

And honestly? She respected that.

Anjii pinged her on encrypted chat.

Anjii: ur monthly numbers just hit 6k users, babe 😭

Tammy: STOPPPP 😭😭😭

Anjii: idc what Jeremy owns, u the real boss fr.

Tammy typed back, smiling to herself.

Tammy: period. now gimme the backend bugs u promised.

---

Downstairs, Jeremy sat with Wale, Tobi, and Zion—his real ones.

"She's different," Tobi said, sipping whiskey. "Tammy. She's not like the other girls you dated."

"Don't remind me," Jeremy muttered.

"She's smart," Zion added.

"She's fine," Wale added.

"She's chaos," Jeremy said.

"She's your wife," Tobi replied.

They all looked at him.

Jeremy looked away.

No one said it out loud, but they could all feel it:

The marriage might've started as a mistake…

But something was changing.

Fast.

---

Across the city, in Zion's private office, encrypted footage played on loop.

The hotel hallway.

A girl stumbling. Wrong door. Security bypassed. Two people entering Room 813. Then silence.

He replayed the timestamp.

And again.

Then he opened his secure call line.

"Jeremy," he said. "That hotel night? It was planned. You were drugged. Tammy was misled. Someone rerouted her to your room."

Jeremy's silence was ice cold.

"By who?"

Zion hesitated. "Your business partner. And someone close to her."

Jeremy's jaw clenched. "Find out who."

"I already did."

Zion uploaded the image to his monitor. It was clear. Crisp.

Tayo Coker.

Standing outside the hotel. Smiling.

Plotting.

Waiting.

---

And just like that…

The fuse had been lit.