The smell of sizzling pepper soup floated from the hotel kitchen, winding its way through the narrow hallways of Royal Grace Hotel. Maria balanced the tray carefully, her thin fingers trembling slightly as she approached the VIP suite. Her uniform—a faded brown dress and apron—clung to her damp skin from the afternoon heat, but she didn't dare complain. She needed this job, no matter how small or tiring.
Room 709.
She paused at the door, adjusted the tray, and took a deep breath before knocking gently.
Knock knock.
"Come in," came a deep voice from inside.
Maria pushed the door open slowly. Her eyes met the back of a tall, broad-shouldered man standing by the window, looking out into the city like he owned it. His suit was sleek, probably worth more than her entire year's salary. As she stepped inside, the heavy scent of his cologne mixed with the aroma of the food, making her head spin.
She set the tray on the table quickly. "Good afternoon, sir. Your order—"
"Come here," the man said, his voice low and commanding.
Maria froze. Her eyes widened as he turned to face her.
She knew that face.
She had seen it on newspapers, TV screens, and even on the giant billboard near the bus stop. Alexander K. Madu—the youngest billionaire in West Africa, CEO of Madu Group International. Women across the country dreamt of him, but he was here, standing just a few feet from her.
She hesitated. "Sir, I... I was just told to bring your food."
"I said come here."
His eyes didn't leave hers. Something in the way he looked at her made her legs move against her will. She stepped closer, heart thudding wildly.
"You're beautiful," he said, almost like it was a passing thought. "What's your name?"
"Maria," she whispered.
Before she could blink, his hand reached out, brushing her cheek. "You're not like the others."
Her breath caught in her throat. She should have moved back, said something, anything. But she didn't.
The rest of that afternoon blurred in her memory—too fast, too wild, too unexpected. He had taken what he wanted, like he always did. And when she left the room, her tray empty and her body sore, she didn't know whether to cry or run.
Maria didn't return to work the next day.
She disappeared.
And for years, Alexander never thought of her again—until one day, he saw a face that looked too familiar. Too much like hers.
That was when the search began.