The Senator's Daughter: Abuja Friends, #1

By Amaka Azie

Rita the only daughter of billionaire, Senator Obaseki, hides behind her reputation as a spoilt wealthy heiress with no ambition to cover up a painful past.

Former soldier Nosa Edosa, believes the Senator to be the epitome of greed and political corruption. Failing to bring him to justice through legal means, his last-ditch effort involves kidnapping the man's daughter.

The plan is simple, the execution flawless ... until love gets involved. Neither Rita nor Nosa are what they seem, and as they discover themselves in this quest to right her family's wrongs, they suddenly have something too precious to lose—their hearts.

Experience the thrills of Nigerian politics, sizzling romance, and perilous suspense in this action-packed love story by Amaka Azie

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amaka Azie
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223685456

Book preview

Prologue

M r. Edosa...

Striding down the hospital corridor, his heart leapt to his throat. He froze, not wanting to turn. Desperate to delay the hint of pity in her eyes that he knew would match the tone of her voice.

Nurse Casandra never used his surname. No, not the flamboyant nurse who flirted shamelessly anytime he came into the ward. Instead, his first name always dripped off her lips, its sultry drawl like warmed dark chocolate.

Yes? he answered in a strained whisper, his back still to her as if it could hold back the inevitable.

Mr. Edosa. Again.

Fear tore through him, loosening the quicksand under his feet. Ignoring the nurse’s entreaties, he sprinted down the hallway to the private ward opposite the nursing station. He pushed open the door, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Where is she?

Mr. Edosa, Nurse Casandra, who had followed closely behind him, called again.

Where the hell is she? he barked. His head began to spin, his chest burned inside him.

I’m sorry, Mr. Edosa. She has been transferred to the ICU⁠—

He didn’t wait for more. Tossing the bouquet of flowers in his hand carelessly on the floor, he sped past the nurse, racing to the other end of the hospital.

Sir, you can’t go in— A man in blue scrubs grabbed his arm.

Get your hands off me, he yelled, shaking the man off.

Calm down, Sir, please.

The man’s name tag revealed his status. Dr. Ola.

You must be Mr. Edosa. Nurse Casandra said you were headed this way.

Where is she? he screamed, by now half out of his mind.

The doctor shook his head slightly.

I’m sorry, he said, a sorrowful droop tilting his lower lip as he spoke.

The doctor kept speaking, but nothing penetrated. His brain felt frozen, as if in deep storage. He could barely register the words as they stabbed his ears like sharpened shards of ice.

She took a turn for the worse this afternoon…we did all we could, but—Where is she? he cut through the doctor’s explanations, a stony calm taking over him.

He followed the doctor down a long corridor to a small room. His breath trapped in his chest when the door swung open. There on a trolley lay her body shrouded in a white sheet.

Dr. Ola hesitated before lifting the cloth.

No! he cried out, his voice a hoarse cry roaring up from inside his very being. He grabbed her deathly pale face in his hands and shook it.

No, please no. Wake up. Please, he begged, his voice a broken plea. He shook her again.

Oh, God, no.

Tears filled his eyes, blinding him. He swiped them away, fighting for control of his emotions. This couldn’t be happening.

She was getting better...was supposed to get better.

I’m sorry. The infection spread…

But how? That’s impossible. He threw a glance at the doctor who stood behind him shoulders hunched, his demeanour gloomy.

We don’t know. She suddenly deteriorated. We did the best we could.

He turned back to her, unable to look away from the lifeless beauty before him. Unable to control the tears pouring down his cheeks.

He had only left her that morning for a change of clothes and stopped by the florist to get some flowers. She had started a new treatment and was improving.

What happened? he whispered, brushing his thumb across her face. What happened? Cradling her cheek in his hands, he sobbed, his body trembling.

He gazed down at her, and felt the world around him fade slowly into oblivion, until all he could see was her. The sallow greyness of death on her face, her closed eyes, her mouth slightly parted.

A nightmare that should never have been brought to life come true.

What happened?

Chapter One

The door opened and she came tumbling out of her pink car. Laughing and unsteady on her feet, she would have fallen in a heap if not for her tall, thin companion. He whispered something in her ear, and her voice rang out in laughter, its throaty rumble echoing in the silence of the night.

Her tight red gown clung to her curves like a second skin, its plunging neckline leaving little to even a blind man’s imagination. She was beautiful with smooth honey-brown skin, but her flamboyance teetered on tacky, like she craved attention.

Nosa watched as they ambled toward her bungalow, the thin man’s hand planted on her ass. From the concealed vantage point opposite the gate to her home, Nosa could hear her voice pierce the quiet. It was 3a.m. Not even the birds were up.

As always, a spark of awareness shimmered through his body at the sound of her voice whenever he heard her speak. Husky, but sweet to his ears. It unnerved him. In fact, this entire process of trailing her unnerved him, but he’d run out of alternatives.

For the plan to succeed, he needed to know precisely when to make his move. But it would be hard. As the Senator’s daughter, a bodyguard always lurked somewhere nearby trailing her, keeping a close eye on her and those around her. Guarding her must be no easy task as she was a busy lady, frequently out gallivanting at parties, clubs, and other glittering social events…always capturing her doings on camera for her so-called video blog.

Her chuckle shot through the night air again, and her eyes suddenly whipped in his direction. Nosa sucked in his breath, his heart galloping. When she turned back to the front door, he released a ragged sigh of relief.

Of course, she didn’t see you, he muttered to no one. The tall trees lining the street and the unoccupied parked cars provided his black Toyota ample cover, even with the illumination of the street lights. Yet, the slope of the street gave him a clear view of the compound.

Three weeks he’d been trailing Senator Obaseki’s daughter. Rita…but Nosa had dubbed her Little Miss Princess in his head. As he’d done throughout the week, he discreetly followed her entire day, noting all her activities. It was difficult to keep abreast with all she engaged in. Today she had attended a party with a few socialites, stayed there till evening, and then hopped over to a nightclub with the lean man…presumably her boyfriend.

Her spontaneity confounded the situation to no end. Always out—here, there, everywhere—never in one place for too long. It seemed she tried to run away from her own company.

Her hectic lifestyle worried Nosa. Without some rhyme or reason to her activities, how would he find the loophole to implement his plan? The necessary loophole he needed to present itself and give him the opportunity to strike.

He trained his eyes on Little Miss Princess again. Red hair extensions, or maybe a wig, covered her head. Her face was yet again drenched in heavy make-up, and long fake lashes shielded her eyes.

Her eyes…they always looked dead, devoid of life. As if they held pain. As if they held nothing. Strange, but even though she frequently surrounded herself with people, she never seemed quite present. Rather, far away. Lost.

Looking inebriated himself, her companion struggled to hold Little Miss Princess steady while attempting to open the front door to her bungalow. They stood there talking loudly and laughing for a few minutes more before he finally succeeded unlocking the door and they both stumbled inside.

Another dead end day. God, I need a cigarette.

With a deep sigh, Nosa leaned over and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out the box of nicotine chewing gum he kept there and popped one into his mouth. For the thousandth time since he had decided to quit smoking, he asked himself if it was worth it. This mission required him to be in top form, and nicotine craving was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

His eyes went back to the bungalow. Painted bright pink, it fit a spoilt princess perfectly. He scanned his surroundings with the caution engraved in his system since his days as a soldier. The only guard stationed to watch the Senator’s daughter was already retreating to his vehicle with a bored expression on his face. It must be a gruelling job watching her, Nosa thought feeling sorry for the large buff man. He scrutinised him as he walked away, looking for the gun he knew the man must have stashed somewhere in his clothing. To get Little Miss Princess, he knew he needed to do it when the bodyguard was nowhere around.

A few more chews, and he spit his gum out of the rolled down window. Unwrapping another piece, he threw it in his mouth. Three months since he had quit, and his body had yet to win the fight against its desire for nicotine. Initially, he’d craved cigarettes so much that he had felt physically sick.

But slowly, the hunger had been gradually replaced with his new mission—more an obsession—to get justice for Isoken and all the others. A bitter determination coursed through Nosa. One way or another, those who had suffered due to Senator Obaseki’s greed would get justice. He would make sure of it.

Yes, there would be casualties. Unfortunate, but like any war, inevitable. He had no choice. They had tried everything in their power to get the Senator to admit his wrong, to stop his greed from destroying more lives. They had failed. The legal system had failed them.

This left only one way to get Senator Obaseki’s attention.

Nosa glanced into the compound from where he was discreetly parked. His eyes skimmed over the pink bungalow, the pink Lamborghini and the bright red Rolls-Royce Phantom, and then stopped at her bodyguard’s black Jeep parked at the corner of the building.

Yes, there was only one way to get the Senator’s attention.

Nosa sucked his teeth. Only when citizens took matters into their hands, did politicians stop to consider options other than padding their pockets with money to the detriment of the masses. Only when things became very personal did politicians think about people other than themselves.

He eyed the bungalow one last time as the lights went out, announcing Little Miss Princess’ bedtime and the end of today’s watch. Unfortunately, she was caught in a crossfire having nothing to do with her, and everything to do with her father.

It was about to get very personal for Senator Obaseki.

Chapter Two

Abomb went off in her head. Or at least, that’s how it felt as Rita’s eyes fluttered open. Ahhh, she groaned at the intense pounding in her brain. A sudden nauseous feeling struck her, and she scrambled out of her bed and ran into the bathroom. She made it just in time to the toilet before her stomach hurled out its contents.

Shit, she cursed, flushing away the frothy mess. I’m dying.

No, you are not, a voice behind her boomed, startling her. Rita turned to Ehis, her personal assistant slash occasional lover.

My head is about to explode, Rita moaned, rinsing her mouth with mouthwash.

She glanced at the mirror and flinched at her reflection. She was a mess; her long red wig slanted slightly on her head, with strands of hair scattered all over her face. Unsightly bags under her eyes darkened by poor sleep and fatigue tainted her usually flawless skin, and a false eyelash stuck to her left cheek.

I look like death.

That’s what a hangover does to you, babe.

Don’t call me babe. I’m nobody’s babe, Rita protested, a bit too harshly, causing another bout of pain to strike at her temple. She groaned, holding her head steady to dampen the sting.

Here, I made the usual hangover broth for you, he murmured, handing her a mug of warm fluid.

Thanks, Ehis, she whispered, accepting the mug from him and taking a sip of the bitter drink.

She scrunched her face as the warm liquid hit her throat. Rita had no idea exactly what the drink contained, but it always worked wonders whenever she had a hangover. Ehis claimed it was a secret broth ingredient handed down from his great-grandfather, but she suspected it was green tea mixed with honey and a soft drink.

Did…did we…eh… Rita began hesitantly.

Fuck last night?

Why do you have to be so crude?

But what else do you call what we do? Certainly not making love. He paused, a fleeting annoyed glint flashed in his eyes. You only have sex with me to scratch an itch.

Rita sighed. He was right. She needed to stop using him. She needed to grow up. I’m sorry.

A moment of silence ensued.

No, we didn’t do anything… I was too drunk. And so were you. Ehis’s solemn voice broke the silence.

Good, Rita muttered, moving away from the bathroom, cup still in her hand. The broth was already performing its magic. She was feeling a bit better. I promise to keep my hands off you when I’m itchy. She smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiled back. Yes, do that. I’m more than just a penis.

Rita laughed in response, and a sharp pain pierced her head, reminding her of her hangover. These days, she was beginning to need alcohol more to numb the feeling of emptiness, the feeling of restlessness that always consumed her when she was alone. In fact, I need to stop doing a lot of things. Rita paused. She turned to Ehis, a grave expression on her face. I feel like I no longer know myself.

Why do you doubt yourself all of a sudden?

It’s not all of a sudden… Rita’s voiced tailed off.

Lately, she had been feeling empty. Lost. As if she was merely existing rather than living. She had everything money could buy, thanks to her billionaire father and her massive trust fund. But she was no longer enjoying her life. It’s not all of a sudden, she mumbled again as she sat down at the edge of the bed.

Ehis sat beside her and draped his arm around her. Rita, you are beautiful, wealthy, and have the world at your fingertips, he murmured, kissing her forehead. Enjoy it. Live your life. Don’t let your father or brothers control you.

Rita smiled up at Ehis. She’d known him since childhood. His late mother had been her nanny who had often brought him along to babysit. They had pretty much grown up together. He was always there for her. Yes, she knew he stayed with her because she carried him financially. But she loved and trusted him.

I know no matter where I run to, I’ll have to do what they say.

You don’t have to.

Yes, I do. I am twenty-nine, and my time is running out. Soon, I can no longer give excuses.

You can’t let them force you to marry someone you don’t want.

I haven’t even met him. All I know about him is that he is in his early thirties and the son of another Senator.

He is very handsome though.

I don’t care if he is James Bond, Rita snapped. This is something my father says I must do because it will enhance the family. He doesn’t give me any more reasons. It’s like if I don’t marry that man, the whole world will end.

You don’t have to.

I know, but if I refuse, Daddy will cut me off. I can’t live without what I have become accustomed to since birth. It’s a tough choice.

No, it isn’t. Ehis kissed her forehead, then rose from the bed. You are a clever girl. You will make the right decision.

Thanks, you are my ace.

And you are my best friend.

Rita watched Ehis leave her room. She remained seated on the bed until she finished her drink. Rising, she placed the empty mug on the dressing table and sauntered into the bath. She took a quick shower and put on a red and white floral summer dress.

After getting dressed, she left her bedroom in search of Ehis, who was already seated at the dining table having a bowl of cereal.

I made pancakes for you. You can warm them up if you want, he said when he looked up and noticed her.

Thanks, although I’m not hungry.

You have to eat, Rita. You are losing your famous curves.

I know, and I hate it. She hesitated. But for the past few months now, I haven’t felt like eating… Food doesn’t taste the same anymore.

Ehis shook his head. You rich people eh… He sounded amused. "Now, food doesn’t taste the same abi? Because there is an abundance of it. Tell that to those that need food."

Rita smiled. She knew Ehis sometimes resented her being born into a wealthy family, whereas he had struggled from childhood for everything.

Maybe I’m depressed, Rita murmured.

No, Rita, you are bored. You have too many options; that’s the problem. You need something or someone to excite you.

Rita laughed as she moved over to the kitchen. Ehis was right. She was bored. Everything in her life seemed bland.

Maybe we should do another trip to Dubai, Rita suggested. She could still see Ehis through a carved oval hole in the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room.

Which would make it the third trip there this year. No, I don’t think that’s what you need.

And what, pray tell, Mr Wise One, do I need?

You need a challenge. I’m not sure yet what it should be. I’ll think about it. It could be something for the Vlog.

Rita nodded. She glanced at the tray of pancakes and sighed. She needed to eat more food and drink less alcohol.

I’ll have half of one, she said, cutting into the pancake. She lifted the half slice and folded it before taking a bite. Hmmmm…nice… she gushed with a full mouth. She heard Ehis chuckle.

You are such a dream boyfriend. Why are you still single?

Because everyone thinks we are dating. You block my way. Although he sounded like he was joking, Rita noted a slight strain in his tone.

I don’t mean to…

"I’m joking, Rita…Jeez, I’m toasting a girl, and I’m halfway there."

Eh… And you have not even told me who she is? I’m hurt.

Holding the plate of pancakes in her hand, Rita walked over to join Ehis, who was already done with his breakfast.

Don’t be. We have only gone on two dates. I like her. She is a good girl. A down-to-earth girl. I don’t want to corrupt her by introducing her to you.

Rita’s gut twisted. His words produced a pang that jabbed her in the chest. Is this what Ehis really feels about me?

As if he noticed the callousness of his words, Ehis got up and pulled her into his arms. I’m sorry for being an ass, he said softly.

Is that what you really think of me? She pulled away from him abruptly.

No…well…let’s be honest… You spend thoughtlessly, are always out all night. You are not exactly a role model to young girls.

What the hell does that mean? Rita cut in, a slow rage gradually building up inside her. She loved Ehis, but he had a way of blowing hot and cold. He frequently oscillated between being the most loyal best friend she could ever wish for, and judging her. He never overlooked any opportunity to show his disdain for her affluence. It was as though he punished her for her fortune sometimes.

Nothing serious. Lighten up. I’m just saying she is not like you…

Not like me, how?

Well, she is not spoilt. She is well brought up. She can cook, and knows what to do with money. Wife material.

Me, spoilt? Rita’s blood boiled. She needed him away from her before she said something she would regret. Please leave now, Ehis.

"Haba, I’m your best friend, I’m entitled to be honest with you."

Please leave.

Babe, chill…

"Don’t babe me. Leave now."

Okay, okay. He moved away from her, picked up his wallet and mobile phone from the couch where he had slept and turned back to her.

Text me later when you have calmed down.

Just leave.

Later, Rita, he mumbled as he strolled out of her bungalow, shutting the front door behind him gently.

Furious, Rita flung the plate in her hand at the closed front door. She watched as it crashed onto the metal door, and then landed on the glossy white terrazzo floor, shattering into pieces. She stood there for moments staring at the mess, her chest heaving with rage.

Ehis had no right to judge her. Nobody did. Everyone saw her as a spoilt rich girl with no ambitions. Well, she was more than that. Nobody understood what it felt like to be her. To have everything, and yet, nothing.

Still fuming, Rita marched back to