ECHOES OF DECEPTION

Francesca stood on the balcony, overlooking the dazzling lights of Lagos, her heart heavy with the weight of the night ahead. The engagement party was in full swing below her, the chatter of the guests a dull hum in her ears. She felt out of place in her own life, as if everything was happening around her and she was just a spectator, powerless to change the course of her destiny.

Downstairs, her sister, Beverly, was the life of the party. She floated through the room, laughing and chatting with the guests, her beauty and charm captivating everyone who crossed her path. Francesca couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as she watched Beverly with her fiancé, Kola. They looked perfect together, a picture of happiness that seemed unattainable to her.

Francesca's thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice behind her. "You look lost in thought."

She turned to see Beverly standing there, a glass of champagne in hand and a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Just taking a moment to breathe," Francesca replied, forcing a smile.

Beverly moved closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked Francesca up and down. "You should relax and enjoy yourself, Francesca. This is a celebration, after all."

Francesca nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. Something about Beverly's tone made her uneasy, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

As the night wore on, Francesca found herself feeling more and more out of sorts. The party seemed to blur around her, the faces of the guests indistinct and their voices a distant echo. She was about to excuse herself and head upstairs when Beverly appeared at her side again.

"Come with me," Beverly said, taking Francesca's hand and leading her through the crowd. "I have something special planned for you."

Francesca followed reluctantly, her instincts telling her that something was off. They made their way through the grand hallway and up the stairs to a secluded room on the top floor of the mansion.

"What is this about, Beverly?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Beverly's smile was sharp, her eyes glinting with something that sent a chill down Francesca's spine. "Just a little surprise for my dear sister."

Before Francesca could react, Beverly handed her a glass of wine. "Drink this. It will help you relax."

Francesca hesitated, but Beverly's gaze was unwavering, almost daring her to refuse. Not wanting to cause a scene, Francesca took the glass and sipped the wine. The taste was bitter, and she had to fight the urge to spit it out, but she forced herself to swallow.

"Good girl," Beverly murmured, watching her closely.

Within minutes, the room began to spin, and Francesca's legs felt like jelly. Panic surged through her, but her body refused to cooperate as darkness crept into the edges of her vision.

"Beverly... what... what did you...?" Francesca's words slurred as her world faded to black.

When she woke up, Francesca was in a bed that wasn't hers, the room unfamiliar. Her head pounded, and her body ached in ways that made her heart race with fear. She tried to sit up, but her limbs were heavy as if they were not her own.

That's when she saw him.

A man lay beside her, his face shadowed in the dim light. Panic flared in Francesca's chest, and she scrambled to the edge of the bed, pulling the sheets around her. "Who are you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The man stirred, blinking slowly as he turned to face her. As the haze of sleep left his eyes, recognition dawned in his expression, followed by a look of confusion that mirrored Francesca's own.

"What... how did I...?" the man began, but the sound of footsteps outside the door cut him off.

The door burst open, and Beverly stepped in, followed by a crowd of party guests, including Kola. Francesca's heart sank as she realized what was happening. This was a setup, a cruel twist orchestrated by her own sister.

"There she is, caught in the act," Beverly announced triumphantly, her voice dripping with venom. "My dear sister, sleeping with a stranger on the night of her engagement."

Gasps and whispers filled the room as the guests looked at Francesca with a mixture of disgust and pity. Kola's face was a mask of disbelief, his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

"Beverly, no... this isn't what it looks like," Francesca pleaded, but her voice was drowned out by the judgmental murmurs of the crowd.

Her mother stepped forward, her face pale with shock. Without a word, she raised her hand and slapped Francesca across the face. The sting of the blow echoed in the silence that followed, and Francesca felt her world shatter into a million pieces.

Francesca's fiancé, Kola, just stood there, his expression one of utter disappointment. He couldn't even look at her, and the sight of his turned back was more painful than any slap could ever be.

But then, as if the world hadn't crumbled enough, the man in the bed stood up. "I can't let this continue," he said, his deep voice commanding attention. "My name is Alexander Cole."

At the mention of his name, the room went silent. Everyone knew that name. Ike was a ruthless billionaire with a reputation that sent shivers down the spines of even the most powerful men in Lagos.

Beverly's triumphant smile faltered, replaced by shock. She had not anticipated this.

"I apologize to everyone, especially to you, Mr. Kola," Ike continued, his voice steady. "But I take full responsibility for what happened here tonight."

Francesca's mind was spinning. Who was this man, and why was he defending her? And why did his name send a jolt of recognition through her, as if she had heard it before in a different life?

Kola was about to leave when Ike's next words stopped him in his tracks. "I will marry Francesca. I take full responsibility for my actions."

"No," Francesca protested weakly, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't even know you."

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