LOGINThe mistery of a billionaire as he gives birth to a baby outside wedlock, his new found wife wasn't aware, watch out......
View MoreCindy menggerakkan jemarinya yang lentik di atas meja kerja berbahan kayu mahoni mengilap, untuk memastikan tidak ada kotoran, bahkan sebutir debu pun yang berani hinggap di sana. Bagi Cindy, meja itu adalah dunia dan tempatnya menjujukkan eksistensi diri.
Sebagai sekretaris andalan dari Ardi Pradana, sang pemimpin tertinggi Pradana Group, Cindy bukan sekadar pengolah data. Ia adalah gerbang, benteng, sekaligus otak di balik efisiensi sang CEO yang melegenda. Ardi Pradana memang dikenal sebagai seorang pengusaha muda yang sukses. Dan di balik segala kesuksesan Ardi, ada Cindy yang bertindak di balik layar untuk mengatur segalanya. Bagi Cindy kebanggaan adalah integritas dan kepercayaan diri adalah perisai. Jam di salah satu sisi dinding sudah menunjuk pukul 07.00 pagi. Cindy berdiri tegak dengan rok pensil abu-abu dan kemeja putih yang disetrika kaku hingga sudut kerah. Di tangannya, sebuah tablet menampilkan jadwal Ardi yang padat untuk hari ini hingga detik terakhir. Ia mencatat segala sesuatu dengan rinci, mulai dari suhu kopi yang harus tepat 180°F hingga durasi jabat tangan dengan para investor. "Pagi, Mbak Cindy yang paling cantik sejagat raya!" terdengar sapaan bernada dramatis. Cindy tidak perlu menoleh untuk tahu siapa yang baru menyapa, sambil tersandung kabel di pintu masuk ruang tunggu eksekutif. Bambang, asisten pribadi Ardi yang lebih sering membawa masalah daripada solusi, yang kali ini masuk dengan wajah pucat dan napas tersengal. "Bambang, kamu terlambat lima menit," ujar Cindy tanpa mengalihkan pandangan dari layar tablet. "Dan dasimu miring. Pak Ardi ada rapat dengan investor Jepang jam delapan. Jangan sampai dia melihatmu seperti baru bangun dari mimpi buruk. Itu akan mencoreng citra perusahaan Pradana." "Aduh! Jus-justru itu, Mbak..." Bambang mendekat sambil berbisik gagap, tangannya gemetar hebat. "File proposal konsolidasi yang kemarin Mbak kasih... sepertinya saya salah simpan di folder publik. Saya panik, lalu saya klik delete, tapi kok malah muncul peringatan error merah-merah gitu di komputer saya? Terus, komputernya tiba-tiba mati sendiri." Cindy memejamkan mata sejenak, menghirup aroma kopi aromatik di ruangannya untuk menenangkan saraf yang mulai menegang. "Berapa kali harus kubilang, Mbang? Kalau tidak tahu, tanya. Jangan asal klik. Integritas data kita adalah nyawa perusahaan ini. Biar aku yang urus nanti setelah Pak Ardi masuk. Sekarang, siapkan kopi hitam tanpa gula untuk beliau. Pastikan nampannya bersih!" Bambang mengangguk patuh seperti anak sekolah yang baru saja dimarahi kepala sekolah, lalu segera menghilang ke arah pantri. Cindy menghela napas panjang. Menyelamatkan Bambang dari kebodohannya sendiri sudah menjadi agenda harian yang tidak tertulis di kontrak kerjanya. Bagi Cindy, Bambang adalah variabel pengganggu dalam persamaannya yang sempurna. Namun loyalitas pria itu pada Ardi Pradana membuatnya tak tersentuh. Tak lama kemudian, lift khusus eksekutif berdenting. Ardi Pradana keluar dengan langkah lebar yang memancarkan otoritas. Di belakangnya, mengekor Gery, pengacara utama perusahaan Pradana yang selalu tampak cerah dan tersenyum menebarkan pesona . Penampilan khas seorang metroseksual yang gemar berganti pacar setiap beberapa minggu sekali. Sebagai pegawai lama, Cindy dapat merasakan ada yang berbeda pagi ini. Wajah Ardi Pradana yang biasanya sedingin es batu kini tampak keruh, seperti badai yang siap pecah. "Cindy, ke ruangan saya sekarang. Kresna sudah ada di sana kan?" suara Ardi berat, mengandung nada urgensi yang membuat bulu kuduk Cindy meremang. "Kresna? Staf khusus IT itu? Belum ada laporan dia masuk ke area eksekutif, Pak. Protokol keamanan mengharuskan setiap tamu..." "Dia tidak butuh protokol," potong Ardi cepat sambil terus berjalan. "Kamu masuk sekarang! Dan kunci pintunya." Di dalam ruangan kantor yang luas dan beraroma kayu cendana itu, seorang pria muda berjaket hoodie hitam dengan rambut berantakan tak tersisir sudah duduk dengan santai di kursi tamu kulit yang mahal. Ia tampak sangat tidak selaras dengan kemewahan ruangan tersebut. Di pangkuannya terdapat sebuah laptop yang dipenuhi stiker-stiker grup band underground dan simbol-simbol aneh. Pria itu adalah Kresna. Bagi Cindy, Kresna adalah kebalikan dari segala sesuatu yang ia wakili. Cindy membenci caranya berpakaian yang serampangan, caranya memandang rendah formalitas. Dan yang paling utama, caranya masuk ke ruang pribadi CEO tanpa melalui meja sekretaris. "Aku masuk lewat jalur evakuasi khusus, Mbak Sekretaris." Ujar Kresna seolah dapat membaca isi kepala Cindy. Kresna kembali menatap laptop, jemarinya menari lincah di atas keyboard. Menghasilkan bunyi ketikan yang ritmis dan menjengkelkan bagi telinga Cindy yang terbiasa pada kesunyian. "Kresna, sampaikan hasilnya," perintah Ardi sambil duduk di kursi kebesarannya. Gery berdiri di sampingnya, melipat tangan di dada seperti eksekutor yang menunggu perintah. Kresna memutar laptopnya ke arah Ardi, namun layarnya cukup besar untuk dapat dilihat oleh mata tajam Cindy. "Ada kebocoran sistematis selama enam bulan terakhir. Dana dialirkan dalam unit-unit kecil namun konstan ke sebuah rekening cangkang di Kepulauan Cayman." "Berapa? tanya Ardi tidak sabar. "Totalnya? Lima puluh miliar rupiah." "Ck, kenapa bisa kecolongan... " "Karena semua dilakukan dengan bersih, rapi, dan nyaris tak terdeteksi oleh audit standar." Cindy mengerutkan kening, rasa tidak senang mulai muncul di dadanya. Karena audit keuangan perusahaan adalah salah satu pekerjaanya. Dan juga dia tidak bisa terima jika seorang dari bagian IT yang tidak mengerti akuntansi seperti Kresna yang memberikan laporan. "Itu tidak mungkin, Pak. Saya sudah memeriksa setiap laporan transaksi setiap minggu sebelum sampai ke meja Pak Ardi. Tidak ada angka yang meleset satu rupiah pun di neraca." "Memang," Kresna menyeringai, sebuah senyum miring di bibirnya. Senyuman yang semakin menyebalkan bagi Cindy. "Masalahnya, setiap instruksi transfer itu keluar dari ID pengguna dan tanda tangan digital yang terverifikasi atas nama Cindy Clarissa. Ternyata kamu sangat dermawan pada orang-orang di Cayman, Mbak." Darah seolah tersedot keluar dari wajah Cindy yang pucat seketika. Jantungnya berdegup kencang hingga telinganya berdenging. Karena tuduhan dari perbuatan yang sama sekali tidak dia lakukan. 'Bagaimana hal ini bisa terjadi?' 'Jumlahnya lima puluh milyar? Bagaimana jika aku harus mengembalikan uang sebanyak itu?'The rain had returned in the early hours of the fifth day after little Alexander Junior came home. Not the violent storm that had once tried to drown the compound, but a patient, whispering drizzle that tapped against the roof tiles and slid down the veranda glass in slow, silver trails. It was the kind of rain that made everything feel smaller, softer, more intimate—as though the world outside had stepped back to give this new family room to breathe.Inside the living room, the bassinet now occupied the spot near the wide window where the morning light fell softest, and the small circle of chairs and cushions had remained in place, as though the family had silently agreed that this was where they would live for a while—close to the baby, close to each other, close to whatever fragile peace they had managed to gather.Alexander Junior slept in the bassinet, wrapped in the pale yellow blanket Nia had knitted. His breathing was small and even, a rhythm so delicate it seemed to hush the
The drizzle outside had settled into a fine, almost invisible veil that clung to every surface—leaves, windowpanes, the edges of the veranda railing—like a second skin the world had forgotten to shed. Inside the compound, the living room had become the unspoken heart of the house again. The bassinet now occupied the spot near the wide window where the morning light fell softest, and the small circle of chairs and cushions had remained in place, as though the family had silently agreed that this was where they would live for a while—close to the baby, close to each other, close to whatever fragile peace they had managed to gather.Alexander Junior slept in the bassinet, wrapped in the pale yellow blanket Nia had knitted. His breathing was small and even, a rhythm so delicate it seemed to hush the entire room whenever anyone spoke above a whisper. His tiny fists stayed curled near his chin, dark lashes resting against cheeks that still carried the faint flush of new life. Every few minu
The drizzle outside had become a constant companion, not heavy enough to flood the paths anymore, but steady enough to keep the windows fogged and the world beyond the compound blurred and distant. Inside, the living room had transformed into a quiet sanctuary. The bassinet now sat in the center, surrounded by a loose circle of chairs and cushions dragged from every corner of the house. Candles flickered on the side tables—small flames Elena had lit at dusk, saying it helped the baby feel the warmth of home even when the air was cool.Little Alexander Junior slept deeply now, the way only newborns can—complete surrender, tiny chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, one fist curled near his mouth, the other tucked against his cheek. His skin still carried that fragile, almost translucent quality of the first few days, but the flush from birth had faded into a soft, even tone. Every few minutes he made a small sound—a sigh, a hiccup, a faint suckling motion—and the entire family pau
The rain had returned in the early hours of the fourth day after little Alexander Junior came home. Not the violent storm that had once tried to drown the compound, but a patient, whispering drizzle that tapped against the roof tiles and slid down the veranda glass in slow, silver trails. It was the kind of rain that made everything feel smaller, softer, more intimate—as though the world outside had stepped back to give this new family room to breathe.Inside the living room, the bassinet sat near the wide window where the light was gentlest in the mornings. The baby slept there now, swaddled in the pale yellow blanket Nia had knitted during those long, silent days in the nursery. His tiny chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm, little fists tucked under his chin, dark lashes resting against cheeks still flushed from birth. Every few minutes he made a small sound—a sigh, a hiccup, a faint suckling motion with his lips—and the entire room seemed to pause and listen.Amara sat cross-legg
The rain had finally begun to thin after eleven days of unrelenting downpour. It fell now in soft, scattered drops, like the sky itself was tired of crying. Inside the Lekki compound the house felt quieter than it had in weeks—not the suffocating silence of grief, but a gentler one, the kind that c
Clara Henshaw had not left her small apartment in Abuja for six days. The rain had trapped her there—thick, gray, endless—turning the streets outside her window into rivers and the sky into a low, suffocating lid. She sat at the narrow kitchen table, a single lamp throwing harsh light across the sc
The rain had not eased for six days. It fell without mercy, flooding the private beach path, drowning the jasmine bushes Elena had planted on her wedding day, turning the compound into an island cut off from everything except grief. Inside, the house felt smaller than it ever had, the walls pressin
The rain had turned vicious by evening, wind slamming it against the windows so hard the glass vibrated. Elena sat alone in the living room, the single lamp throwing long shadows across the walls. The family had scattered again after the last round of revelations—Theo in the guest house, Amara in h












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