Lahat ng Kabanata ng The reluctant vow: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

The sun rose lazily over Abuja, casting a golden hue across the skyline as Zara stood at the window of her suite, wrapped in a white hotel robe. The city buzzed softly below, but her mind wasn’t on the beauty of the view. It was on Regan. And the strange slip he made last night. You did, kind of. That phrase had echoed through her dreams, chasing her even into wakefulness.Downstairs, the agency had already sent an itinerary to her email. A photoshoot at noon, fittings by 3 p.m., and a dinner event in the evening with international scouts and fashion investors. It was a big deal. One she had dreamed about forever. But somehow, it was hard to focus when questions about her past, and Regan’s strange reaction, hovered in the air like unanswered riddles.A soft knock came at her door.Zara opened it to find Regan, dressed in joggers and a fitted white T-shirt, holding two cups of coffee. “Morning,” he said, his smile a bit cautious.“Morning.” She stepped aside to let him in.“I figured y

Zara kicked the door to her suite shut The buzz from the shoot still lingered in her veins, but it was more the conversation with Regan that replayed in her mind than the flashing cameras or the fast-paced energy of the set.She flopped onto the bed and reached for her phone.Calling: Kemi“Babyyyy!” Kemi’s voice came through excited and crisp. “Tell me everything, don’t skip a thing!”Zara laughed, turning onto her side. “Okay, where do I start? The shoot was insane. Like, proper insane. We had three stylists on rotation, a crazy expensive creative director who kept yelling at everyone—me included—and the cameras? I swear I saw drones flying.”Kemi gasped. “Oh my God. Are you serious? Girl, you’ve arrived.”“I’m not done!” Zara grinned. “Guess who showed up in my Instagram story likes?”“Regan?”“Of course.”“Aww, lover boy. Don’t you dare pretend you didn’t like that.”“I didn’t say I didn’t,” Zara teased. “Anyway, when I got back to the suite, he asked about the shoot, we talked

Zara’s fingers trembled as she clutched the photograph in one hand and the note in the other. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing shallow, and the color had drained from her face. She looked like she’d seen a ghost—no, worse. She looked like the ground beneath her had just vanished.Regan stepped forward and gently took the photo from her, flipping it around to read the words scrawled on the back in sharp, slanted handwriting:“Not everything that makes you happy is real.”He glanced back at her. “Zara,” he said softly, watching the panic ripple across her features. “Hey… look at me.”She blinked, her eyes locking with his. Regan reached out and took her hands in his.“Calm down. We’ll figure this out, okay? You’re not alone in this.”Zara nodded shakily, but her body remained stiff, like she was frozen in time.Regan released her hands and pulled out his laptop from his bag. “I have a way of accessing the hotel’s CCTV system,” he said as he set it down on the coffee table an

Regan stayed frozen by the phone, his mind racing.“We didn’t book a ride,” he said firmly into the receiver.A small pause crackled on the line before the receptionist answered. “I understand, sir. But it was requested earlier this afternoon, around 3:47 p.m. The booking came from your suite. Our system flagged it under your name.”Regan’s eyes narrowed. “Can you tell me exactly how it was booked?”“One moment, sir.”He hung up the receiver and turned to Zara, his voice low. “Someone spoofed our suite number and used my name. If they accessed the hotel’s internal system, it means they’re not just watching from outside—they’re already inside.”Zara’s stomach churned. “They’re planting things under our identity now?”“Yes. Which means we need to trace how it happened.”Moments later, the hotel manager arrived at their door, all polite smiles and apologies. Regan greeted him with clipped professionalism, but the steel in his tone cut through any niceties.“We need to see the access logs

The humid Lagos air clung to their skin the moment they stepped out of the airport terminal. The sky was dull with grey clouds, a stark contrast to the gleaming black SUV parked near the exit. The driver, dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, held a placard that read in bold letters: Mr. & Mrs. KareemZara adjusted her sunglasses, dragging her suitcase behind her as she scanned the crowd. Her eyes soon landed on two very familiar figures standing awkwardly near the corner of the terminal—Imani and Nathan. They weren’t talking. In fact, they were standing apart, looking tense and uncomfortable.“They look stranded,” Zara murmured under her breath, slowing her pace.Regan, wheeling his own bag beside her, followed her line of sight. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you thinking?”“Don’t worry, Regan,” she said, her lips curling into a sly smirk. “They look stranded. Let’s help.”Regan frowned. “Zara—”Before he could stop her, Zara had already taken confident st