บททั้งหมดของ ERE’S SCENT: THE FRAGRANCE OF SIN: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The Friday evening breeze sweeps through the open windows, sending a sharp chill across my skin. I jerk up with a hiss, irritated. I hate the cold. And worse, the rain, the dampness, the muddy streets it leaves behind. Annoyed, I toss the duvet off my body, exposing my warm, naked skin to the air, and immediately regret it. The curtains are wide open, courtesy of my mother’s unannounced visit earlier. I can still hear her voice in my head. “Aanoni, don’t you know it’s bad luck always to close your windows like a depressed person? Jo! Jo! (Please, please!) Fresh air must enter abeg.” I smirk as I remember the way she had gone around, yanking the windows open while muttering about bad energy and how I needed to let light into my life. But another gust of cold air makes me shiver, snapping me back to the present. Damn, I need to close those windows. I step onto the cold tiled floor, stretching my 6’4 frame as the city lights cast faint shadows over my broad chest and sculpted torso.

An hour later, Ahmed drives steadily into the hotel’s parking lot before bringing the car to a smooth halt. “We’re here, sir,” he says. I peer out of the tinted window and immediately spot my mum and her PA standing at the hotel’s entrance, waving in my direction. "Shit. This woman likes stress too much."I sigh, rubbing my temples before unlocking the door. “Alright, Ahmed, let’s go,” I say, stepping out before he can rush around to open the door for me. “Mum, I’m coming. Please hold on,” I call out as I stride towards the entrance, Ahmed trailing behind, ready to exchange pleasantries. “Aanoni, Aanoni, remember I’m gradually becoming an elder,” she says dramatically, tilting her head. She wasn’t wrong, though. Even with the layers of expertly blended makeup and what I assume is a fresh round of Botox, her voice and the way she carried herself were dead giveaways of her age. “Please respect the time I give you,” she continues in a hushed yet firm tone. “Your father is upstair

DAYS AFTERDays pass, but the thought of the familiar stranger lingers deep in my mind. “What would she be doing now? “ I muse, swirling the red wine in my glass before taking a slow sip. Jide, my store representative, had handed it to me earlier, and though the rich flavor coats my tongue, my mind is elsewhere.It was a busy day. Several customers had trooped in at the store for the periodic sales, which I hosted every fourth quarter of the year. A handful of the outlets I distributed my signature scents to had reached for new shipments. It was hectic and engaging, just how I liked it. I lean back in my chair, taking a slow spin before pressing the telephone’s receiver.“Jude,” I say over the telephone as I take gentle spins on my office chair “Sir,” he replies “Come, let’s run over how the stores in Abuja and Owerri would get their new shipments this week,” I drop the receiver back in its place.But even as I shift my focus back to work, my mind betrays me. Ere.The sound of

Fuck, I can't seem to focus," I mutter under my breath, angrily tossing the notepad onto the sofa ahead.Six damn days. Six days of distractions, and they all led to one thing, Ere's thighs.I couldn't get them out of my head.I grab the telephone receiver."Jude.""Yes, sir," Jude replies, his tone weary, like he's been answering me one too many times lately.It always went the same way:"Jude.""Yes, sir.""Would you say perfumes project more in… intimate areas? Like the thighs, cleavage?"A long pause."Umm…""Never mind. Get back to work."And then I'd drown myself in thoughts all over again.The agonizing wait was driving me insane. Suspense chewing at my brain. I'd overthought myself into migraines. Enough. It was time to act."Meet me outside in 5 minutes", I text Ahmed, spraying on my most intoxicating concoction, one that could topple kings, before strapping on my Richard Mille. Today, I was making a grand entrance at Ere's boutique.I'm outside, Ahmed pings back.I head out,

The doorbell rings, slicing through my sleep like a blade.I drag my tired body across the room, hair disheveled, eyes still heavy, and open the door to find the laundry woman standing there with her usual polite smile."Come in," I mutter, my voice rough from sleep."Thank you, sir," she says softly. Without hesitation, she slips past me and heads straight to the walk-in wardrobe. Her hands move with practiced ease, gathering shirts, suits, and trousers in neat bundles."When you're done, let me know," I say, already turning away. I sink back onto the mattress of my king-sized bed, the cool sheets swallowing me whole.Just as my eyes flutter shut, my phone pings on the nightstand.Ayanfe.The sixth notification this week.Persistent. Relentless. Almost desperate. She wasn't giving up on us meeting. And I wasn't ready to open a door I couldn't closeI ignore her message, my fingers drifting instead to the folded papers beside my phone, the informal draft I'd prepared for Ere. My "t