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A Story Written by Omolola…

Her brows crashed together in surprise. “My father?”

He nodded.

Old anger ran through her. She shook her head. “You must have the wrong person. I haven’t seen my father since. . .Well, I don’t actually remember ever seeing my father.” Bitterness sounded in her voice. “He sent me and my mother packing when I was two.”

“That’s not quite the way it happened.” he said “And I don’t have the wrong person. Your father’s name was Wale Adeyemi, correct?”

Apparently, it had been. It was a little fact Tomilola had learned when she’d found the name Adeyemi on her mother’s marriage certificate and Tomi’s birth certificate after her mother’s death, When she’d seen that name she’d understood for the first time why she’d never found her father when she’d searched for him under the name Wale Daniels. She’d also understood the care her mother had taken to make sure Tomi never came face to face with her father. And the only reason Tomi could think of for that, was that her mom hadn’t wanted Tomi to hear with her own ears that her father didn’t want her.

She nodded. “Yes, Wale Adeyemi is my father. Biologically, anyway. The old man certainly was nothing more than a Pour donor. I can’t imagine why he’d be looking for me now. Unless…” She shot the stranger a hard look. “If he’s after a portion of the Angels money you can tell him I don’t keep any of it. None of us do. A hundred percent of it is donated. And my job as a waitress at the little shop where I live in Port Harcourt barely keeps me in living expenses. I don’t h have much more money now than my mother did the day he kicked us out on the street.”

The stranger grimaced. “Your father didn’t send me to squeeze money out of you.”

She raised a skeptical brow. “No? Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I am the executor to your father’s estate, and the acting chairman of his company.”

The executor to her father’s estate? The world tilted. Her father was dead? She rocked back, trying to keep her balance, but the room spun and her knees went weak, making her sway on her feet.

Demola rushed around the desk with a soft curse, his arms stretched out to catch her.

She quickly lowered herself into Segun’s chair before he reached her. She definitely didn’t need to add the stranger’s touch to her already careening world. She held her hands up to ward away his help. “I’m okay, just…” Stunned.

He dropped his hands to his sides, but his gaze stayed locked on her, watchful, concerned as he stood beside her.

She closed her eyes, blocking him out. Blocking out his intense gaze and his concern and his overpowering maleness as she tried to sift through the emotions swirling inside. Like most kids with a missing parent she’d thought of her father often over the years. On birthdays, she’d wondered if he ever thought of her. Or if he’d wiped her and her mother so completely from his mind, he wouldn’t even notice the day.

To Be Continued…

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