No panic.
No emptiness.
Just rest.
Anthony opened his eyes slowly.
He blinked, sat up, looked around, confused.
Morning.
He checked the time, then froze.
“Wait.”
He ran his hand through his hair.
“I slept.”
He stood up quickly and walked around the room.
Nothing broken. Nothing strange.
Then his eyes landed on the sofa—empty.
And it clicked.
Ma.
He sat down slowly on the bed, thinking, processing.
Last night.
Her voice. Her laughter. Her presence.
Then sleep.
Deep, peaceful sleep.
Anthony stood up again—sharp, focused.
“It’s her.”
Ma was trying to blend into the kitchen like nothing had happened, but her face—guilty. Very guilty.
Mama Grace noticed immediately.
“Ma.”
Ma jumped. “Yes, Mama?”
“Why are you looking like someone who stole a goat?”
Ma forced a smile. “I did not steal a goat. I respect goats.”
Mama Grace narrowed her eyes.
Ma leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“Mama Grace… I slept in his room.”
Mama Grace blinked once. “You what?”
“Accidentally.”
Before Mama Grace could respond, a voice echoed from the staircase.
“Ma.”
Everything froze.
Ma turned slowly, like a generator that was about to spoil.
Anthony stood there—calm, unreadable, dangerous.
Ma swallowed. “Sir…”
Then she turned and tried to run.
“Come back.”
She froze mid-step, closed her eyes. “Jesus, I am coming.”
Ma walked back slowly, head down, hands together like she was about to beg for her life.
“Sir, I’m sorry. It was not intentional. Sleep just came, and I didn’t invite it. I will not do it again. I respect your bed. I respect your room. I respect your sleep—”
“Ma.”
She stopped and looked up slowly. “Yes, sir.”
“Serve my breakfast in my room.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even the spoons in the kitchen seemed to pause.
Ma blinked.
“Sir… my breakfast in your room?”
“Yes.”
She pointed at herself. “Me?”
“Yes.”
Ma looked around—confused, suspicious. “Sir, are you sure nothing is wrong with you?”
Mama Grace coughed to hide her laughter.
Anthony’s lips twitched slightly. “Just do as I said.”
Anthony turned to all the maids, his voice calm but firm.
“From today, no one serves me food except Ma.”
Gasps filled the room.
Shock. Jealousy. Confusion.
One maid whispered, “Ha! It has happened.”
Another muttered, “This girl used something.”
Ma stood there, still confused, still shocked, still trying to understand her life.
The maids were already gathered like early morning news reporters.
“Did you hear what Oga said?”
“Only Ma will serve him food.”
“Ha! This is no longer maid work. This is promotion with benefits,” Ngozi whispered, trying not to laugh. “Maybe she will soon collect staff of office.”
Another maid hissed. “Don’t joke. This thing is serious.”
In the kitchen, Ma stood in front of the breakfast tray like it was an exam she had not studied for.
Bread. Eggs. Tea. Everything arranged perfectly.
She folded her arms.
“So now I am doing VIP service.”
Mama Grace entered quietly. “Ma, carry the food.”
Ma leaned closer. “Mama Grace, are you sure he is okay? Because this behavior is behaving somehow.”
Mama Grace smiled knowingly. “Just go.”
Ma picked up the tray slowly. “If anything happens to me, please tell my mother I tried.”
Ma walked through the long polished hallway, each step echoing like drumbeats.
Left leg. Right leg. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
She reached his door, paused, took a deep breath, and knocked.
“Come in.”
Her heart jumped.
She entered the same room.
White. Gold. Calm. Dangerous for her destiny.
Anthony sat on the bed, already awake, looking like a man who had slept for the first time in forever—which he had.
Ma walked in carefully and placed the tray down.
“Your breakfast, sir.”
Silence.
She turned immediately.
Time to escape.
“But—”
She froze, closed her eyes briefly.
“Yes, sir.”
She turned slowly.
Anthony looked at her calmly, observing.
Then he said, “So no story today?”
