Dinner before you eat me

In the middle days of July, the large funeral hall was crowded with people. As she looked at the affectionate and flattering faces of each person and listened to their concerns about her living together with them, Wuraola's heart grew colder and colder.

"My father didn't have any close friends in his lifetime, and he won't have any after his death. If you have any humanity left in you, please don't disturb his peace and leave."

"That's not it, Wuraola. Your father's house was demolished. Do you still have a house to live in? As a young girl, you're easily deceived."

Standing up with a cold face, Wura opened the door. "I'll give you ten minutes to leave. If you don't leave after ten minutes, I'll call the police."

Her mother died when she was young, and her father worked so hard to raise her. All of her relatives avoided them like a plague. Now that they know that their old house has been demolished and money is to be given, they suddenly appear one by one. Were they trying to take advantage of her?

Seeing that she wasn't joking, the crowd left, cursing and swearing. For a moment, the funeral hall became quiet, except for a man in black who didn't leave.

"Do you want to wait for me to call the police before leaving?"

"My master wants to see you, Miss Wura. Please come with me."

The man looked bold, he was clearly not an ordinary person.

Wuraola was almost numb with grief and had no interest in who this man's master was.

"I'm busy. You can leave."

"Miss Wuraola will regret it if she doesn't come. This matter is very important to you."

Kneeling in front of her father's picture, Wuraola silently remembered her father's hardships, with the gift she had bought for him still by her side.

"Dad, this is the first gift I've ever bought for you. I don't know if you'll like it... Don't worry, I'll avenge you."

Her eyes were cold, and the man in black left silently. Her father died in their old house, which was demolished. Everyone said it was an accident, but Wuraola didn't believe it, because he left her alone in this world.

It was the first time in her life that she received a paycheck. She couldn't wait to buy her father a windbreaker and make a reservation at a fancy restaurant for dinner. But what she saw was her father's lifeless body.

Wuraola clenched her fists, filled with hatred.

"Your father didn't die from an accident." A man's voice sounded from behind her, deep and hoarse, yet sexy at the same time.

Wuraola turned around abruptly.

Behind her stood a man in a suit and leather shoes, with perfectly groomed hair. He wore a white silk shirt with a dark red tie.

He looked down at Wuraola with his deep, black eyes.

His straight nose was topped with a thin, cold mouth which complimented his long eyebrows.

Who was he? And how did he know that her father didn't die from an accident?

"What do you mean?" Wuraola asked.

"Just what you're thinking, exactly as you're thinking it." The man's expression was indifferent, and his eyes were filled with sympathy.

"I can help you."

Wuraola's heart raced. Although she firmly believed that her father didn't die in an accident, hearing someone else confirm it made it difficult for her to control her emotions.

"What evidence do you have to prove it? Or are you just making it up?" Wuraola asked.

There was a moment of silence, the man crouched down, maintaining eye contact with Wuraola.

"I don't have any evidence, but I can help you find it."

Wuraola didn't feel happy, but rather weary.

This man looked dangerous from his head to his toe. He wouldn't help her for no reason.

"What do you want?" Wuraola looked at him and asked, "Or rather, what is the price to pay if you are helping me? What do you want to exchange with me?"

"You."

Wuraola was stunned and didn't understand, "What?"

"I want you."

The man reached out and pinched Wuraola's chin, his actions felt romantic but his voice remained cold, "Marry me."

This was even more shocking than winning a lottery. With just a few simple words, Wuraola still felt like she needed a lot of effort to digest it.

"Are you...sick?"

Would a normal person propose to someone they've never met before at someone else's funeral?

The man wasn't angry, but instead withdrew his hand and rested it on his knee, "If I told you that the only way to find evidence is to marry me, what would you say?"

"Why?"

"Because." The man leaned in close to Wuraola and whispered, "My name is Mide Wellington."

Midd Wellington? Wellington... Wuraola suddenly opened her eyes wide in disbelief and looked at the young man, her lips tightly pursed.

"You said your surname is Wellington?"

She clenched her fists, restraining the urge to punch him in the face, "What's your relationship with the company that forced my dad to sign the agreement?"

Mide saw her sudden change in expression and didn't hide anything as he said "I am the vice president of that company, and my father is the chairman of the board."

Wuraola's head was banging. She had always suspected that the company was responsible for her father's death. What did it mean for him to come and ask her to marry him?

"Are you playing me?"

The reason why her father refused to agree to the demolition was because all of his and his wife's memories were there. If they developed the area, my father would become a thorn in their eye.

"Or do you think I won't do anything to you? Do you think that just because we are common people without money or power, we can't do anything to you?!"

All of a sudden, Mide was about to stand up when Wuraola stretched out her hand to grab his collar, but he grabbed her wrist in mid-air.