CHAPTER THREE: The warning.

My blood went cold.

The message was still glowing on my phone screen inside my small white purse. "He killed his last wife. Ask him what happened to Sophia."

Sophia? Who is Sophia?

Jidenna was holding my hand as we walked down the aisle. He felt me freeze. He leaned close, his perfume strong.

"Amara? What is it? Why did you stop?" he whispered.

I quickly pushed the phone back into my purse. "Nothing sir. Nothing."

But my heart was beating like a drum. Just last night, I thought this man was my savior. Now someone was telling me he was a killer.

The pastor started, "We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony..."

I looked at Jidenna from the corner of my eye. His face was calm, handsome, cold. But was he hiding something? Tari always told me, "My boss is dangerous. He has no heart."

My mother was crying happily in the front row. She thought I had upgraded from Tari to a billionaire. My tailoring customers were whispering, "Amara don hammer o! See her husband! Na billionaire!"

Behind us, outside the hall gate, Tari was still shouting, "Amara! You will regret this!"

The pastor said, "If anyone here knows any reason why these two should not be joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace."

My phone vibrated again. Same unknown number. This time it was a picture.

It was Jidenna, younger, maybe 3 years ago, holding a very beautiful light-skinned woman in a white wedding dress. They were both smiling. The woman looked a little like me - small, dark skin, humble smile. The caption under the picture: "JIDENNA COLE AND HIS LATE WIFE SOPHIA, 2 WEEKS BEFORE HER MYSTERIOUS CAR CRASH."

My hand shook. Late wife? He was married before? He never told me. He said he needed a wife for 30 days because his mother was pressuring him. He never said he had been married before and his wife died.

"Amara?" Jidenna squeezed my hand tighter. "The pastor asked if you take me as your husband. Everyone is looking."

200 guests. My mother standing up. Pastor waiting.

I had to decide. If I say no now, I will be shamed forever in Port Harcourt. If I say yes, I might be marrying a man who killed his wife.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I do," I whispered, my voice shaking.

Jidenna's eyes widened slightly, as if he didn't expect me to say yes so easily. He then said in a clear, deep voice, "I do."

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jidenna leaned in. He did not kiss my lips. He kissed my forehead gently, respectfully. But his hand on my waist was very possessive and tight.

The hall erupted in claps. My mother was dancing and shouting "My daughter has married a billionaire!"

We walked out as husband and wife. Outside, Tari had been pushed far away, but Blessing was still there near the gate, shouting curses with her pink aso-ebi scattered. "You think you have won? You married a murderer! Everyone in GRA knows he killed Sophia! You will be next, Amara! You will be next!"

Jidenna's security carried her away like a small chicken.

In the car, on the way to his mansion in Old GRA, I could not keep quiet anymore. My hand was still holding the phone with the picture.

"Who is Sophia?" I asked, my voice shaking and angry. "Were you married before? Did you kill your wife?"

The car instantly became silent. The driver looked straight ahead and increased the AC.

Jidenna's face became hard like stone. His jaw tightened.

"Who told you that name?" he asked, his voice dangerously low and cold.

"Answer me! Did you kill her? Is that why you need a contract wife? Because no real woman will marry you?"

He suddenly told the driver, "Stop the car."

The Range Rover stopped in the middle of the road. He turned to me. His eyes were dark, filled with anger and pain and something else - guilt.

"Amara, listen to me very well. Sophia was my wife. She died 2 years ago. Car accident on the way to Lagos. I did not kill her. But the world thinks I did because her family is rich and they hate me. They said I was drunk. I have never spoken about it since that day. Who sent you that message?"

His voice was breaking. For the first time, the ruthless billionaire that everyone fears looked vulnerable, like a small boy.

I showed him the message and the picture. He read it and his fist clenched so hard.

"My brother," he whispered. "Kene. My younger brother is sending you this. He doesn't want me to marry anyone. He wants my mother to give him the company. He has been trying to destroy me since Sophia died."

He held my face gently with both hands. His hands were warm.

"Amara, I know this is a contract. 30 days. 20 million. But I will never hurt you. I swear on my father's grave. You saved me today from my mother's pressure. I will protect you with my life. Even if our marriage is fake on paper, my protection for you is real."

My heart softened a little. Maybe he was telling the truth. The pain in his eyes looked real.

We arrived at his mansion. It was huge. Like 10 times bigger than any house I had seen in Port Harcourt. White mansion with big pillars. Guards everywhere saluting.

A woman was waiting at the entrance. An older woman, dressed in expensive lace, with a very stern face and big gold jewelry. She looked exactly like Jidenna.

"So this is the tailor?" she said, looking me from head to toe with disgust, from my white wedding dress that I sewed myself. "Jidenna, you brought a tailor from Peter Odili road to be Mrs. Cole? Have you gone mad? Where is Sophia's class? Where is her family name? Where is her London degree?"

My heart sank. His mother.

Jidenna held my hand tightly and pulled me closer to him.

"Mother, this is my wife. Mrs. Amara Cole. The owner of this house from today. You will respect her as you respected Sophia."

The woman laughed coldly. "Wife? For how long? Until you kill this one too like you killed Sophia? Everyone in this Old GRA knows what you did. You drove drunk and killed your wife."