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Weeks Later
The engine of the the Matte Obsidian Black G-Wagon died with a low, authoritative purr in the underground garage of the Bello family estate in Ikoyi.
Setto did not open his door immediately. He sat in the air-conditioned cabin, his large hands resting on the leather-wrapped steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the concrete wall ahead.
For thirty-four years, he had moved through this life with the absolute, unshakeable certainty of a man who knew his foundations.
He was a Bello.
The family business, Bello & Sons Global, commanded the largest share of natural resource export across the West African sub-region.
Shipping massive tons of raw shea, organic cocoa butter, processed gum arabic, and sesame seeds from the dry plains of the north down to the ports of Lagos, and out to Europe and Asia.
They also handled real estates on the side.
He was used to managing heavy machinery, complex logistics, and millions of dollars in corporate capital.
But right now, his chest felt tight with a completely different kind of weight.
A beautiful, heavy, sweet weight.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
The lock screen lit up, showing a picture he had taken of Tammy several days ago at her studio.
She had been standing behind her table.
Her hair was up in that messy bun she always favored when she was working, and her brilliant smile was faintly visible as she muttered something under her breath.
She was so small compared to him.
A petite, fierce, independent woman who had built her styling brand from the ground up through sheer brilliance and unyielding pride.
Yet, she had completely undone him.
He got out of the car, his boots clicking firmly against the polished granite steps that led up into the private wings of the main house.
He wanted to introduce Tammy to his family officially. They talked about it and she was open to seeing them.
He wasn’t bringing her today. Today was the preliminary ground-clearing. He knew his family.
He knew the heavy, suffocating expectations of the Bello name, and more than anything, he knew the ticking time bomb that was his younger sister, Koda. He needed to speak to his mother first.
He found Dr. Amina Bello in her private upstairs study.
The room smelled of old leather, heavy legal volumes, and the faint, sweet aroma of frankincense burning in a small ceramic dish.
His mother sat behind her mahogany desk, her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, her head wrapped in an immaculate, dark purple silk turban that matched the rich fabric of her boubou.
Even in her sixties, after decades of serving on medical boards and heading philanthropic foundations, she carried herself with the terrifying, beautiful grace of royalty.
“Setto,” she said, looking up from her papers.
A warm, brilliant smile instantly broke across her face, softening the sharp, analytical lines of her eyes.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming to the house today.”
Setto walked over, leaning down to wrap his massive arms around her shoulders, pressing a respectful kiss to her cheek.
“Good afternoon, Mother. I was in the area for a port clearance meeting. I needed to see you.”
Dr. Amina took off her glasses, folding them deliberately.
“Sit down,” she said, gesturing to the plush leather armchair across from her.
Setto sat, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
He didn’t know how to hedge or play around the truth with his mother.
“Mother... I’ve found her. The woman I’m going to marry.”
The room fell into a deep, profound silence. Dr. Amina did not gasp.
She did not erupt into immediate chatter. She simply leaned back in her chair, her sharp eyes searching his face, tracking the absolute, unyielding gravity in his expression.
She had watched him go through the absolute wildfire of his youth.
The disastrous, erratic marriage to Chloe in the UK that had left his heart scarred and his trust broken.
For a long time after that, Setto had closed himself off, focusing only on the export business, his daughter Eliana, and his spiritual life.
“Tell me about her,” Dr. Amina whispered, her voice full of a mother’s cautious hope.
“What is her name?”
“Her name is Tamilore,” Setto said, and just pronouncing her name made his voice drop into that low, protective register.
“She’s the fashion stylist that styled you for your birthday thanksgiving. She’s completely different from anything I’ve ever known. She loves God, truly loves Him. She doesn’t care about the Bello name or the money. When I asked her out, she made me wait just so she could pray and seek clarity on her own terms.”
A soft, beautiful laugh escaped Dr. Amina’s lips. Her eyes lit up with a deep relief.
“Tammy made a Bello wait?”
“Yes,” Setto smiled, a rough, self-deprecating chuckle breaking from him.
Dr. Amina reached across the wide desk, her warm, elegant hand wrapping around her son’s large wrist.
Her eyes were shining with a sudden, emotional warmth.
“Thank God,” she murmured, her voice thick with gratitude.
“Setto, for years, I have been praying for exactly this. I didn’t want a woman who would look at your estate or your status and bow. I wanted a woman of substance. I have met Tammy and I loved her from first glance. She is already my daughter. Bring her to me.”
Setto squeezed his mother’s hand, a massive weight lifting from his chest.
“I’m bringing her on Sunday. For the family dinner. The uncles and aunties are in town, and I want everyone to see her.”
Dr. Amina’s smile faltered slightly, her brow furrowing with a sudden, protective concern.
“Sunday? Setto, your father’s brothers will be here. They can be... traditional. And what about Koda?”
Setto’s jaw tightened, the hard lines returning to his face.
“Koda will have to learn her place, Mother. I love my sister, but I will not tolerate any high-society tantrums when it comes to Tammy.”
“Koda is hurting, Setto,” his mother said softly, sighing as she looked toward the window.
“Ever since your divorce, she has held onto you like a shield. She thinks any woman who comes near you is a threat to her position in your life. Be patient with her, but stand your ground. I am with you.”
“Thank you, Ma,” Setto whispered, standing up.
“I’ll see you on Sunday.”
The sun on Sunday evening was a heavy, melting crimson over the Lekki-Ikoyi link bridge, casting long, dramatic shadows across the water.
Tammy sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
She looked absolutely breathtaking. For tonight, she had chosen an outfit that perfectly balanced her creative identity with the formal elegance required for a high-society introduction.
She wore a tailored, double-breasted jumpsuit in a rich, emerald green structured crepe with a gold, single-strap heels.
Her hair was styled perfectly.
She wore minimal jewelry: just a pair of vintage gold door-knocker earrings and a delicate gold watch.
Her deep skin carried that natural, warm, radiant glow, but her fingers were locked tightly around her small gold clutch, her knuckles turning slightly white.
Setto glanced at her, taking his hand off the gear shift to cover her small, frozen fingers with his massive, warm palm.
The sheer size difference between his hand and hers was a constant reminder of how fiercely he wanted to protect her.
“Hey, beautiful” he said, his bass voice dropping into that smooth, comforting murmur that always made her stomach do a violent flip.
“Breathe. You’re shaking, my love.”
Tammy let out a sharp, breathless laugh, her smile appearing briefly before her lips thinned with anxiety.
She didn’t look at him; she just squeezed his hand back with surprising strength.
“Setto, I’m supposed to be a hard girl” she whispered, her voice tight.
“But my stomach is doing complete backflips. These are the Bellos. Your family is not small. Your father is a literal industry titan. And I am just a stylist with a studio in Lekki. What if they look at me and see an outsider?”
Setto’s grip on her hand tightened, firm, unyielding, and entirely reassuring.
He pulled the car up to the massive, black-and-gold motorized gates of the Ikoyi estate.
The security guards instantly saluted, opening the gates to reveal a sprawling, brilliantly lit architectural masterpiece surrounded by manicured lawns and towering palm trees.
“Look at me, my love,” Setto commanded gently, stopping the car before the grand portico.
Tammy turned her head, her dark eyes locking onto his.
The intensity in his gaze was blinding. It was a look of raw, concentrated mix of pure love and masculine certainty.
“You are not just a stylist,” Setto said, each word heavy with absolute conviction.
“You are the woman I chose. You are the woman I prayed for. My father’s wealth or my family’s businesses don’t define your worth. You walk into that house with your head held high, because you carry the favor of God on your life. I am right by your side, and nobody– not my uncles, not my aunties, and definitely not Koda, is going to make you feel small. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Do you trust me?” He asked.
Tamilore looked into his eyes, feeling the sheer, unshakeable power of his intentionality.
The fear in her chest didn’t completely disappear, but it was forced to bow to the peace his words brought.
She let out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing.
“I trust you, Setto,” she whispered.
“Good,” he smiled, leaning over to press a soft, lingering, and deeply affectionate peck onto her cheek.
The heat of his skin remained against hers for a second. “Let’s go inside.”
The grand living room of the Bello estate was a masterclass in understated luxury. The floors were vast expanses of white Italian marble, partially covered by antique hand-woven Persian rugs.
The air was thick with the rich scent of burning agarwood, roasted meats, and expensive perfumes.
When Setto led Tamilore into the space, the low hum of conversation instantly hushed.
Sitting on the large, plush velvet sofas were the elders of the Bello family.
Three of his father’s brothers. Tall, stately men in immaculate white traditional shaddas and heavy caps.
And two of his maternal aunties, dressed in magnificent, sweeping brocades and gold jewelry that clinked with every movement.
At the center of the room, sitting in a large armchair, was the patriarch: Engineer Bello.
He was a tall, heavily built man with silver hair, sharp, intelligent eyes, and a deeply reserved, quiet demeanor that commanded instant respect without him ever raising his voice.
Dr. Amina rose from her seat immediately, her purple silk boubou rustling softly against the marble.
“Setto,” she said, her voice warm and clear, breaking the sudden tension in the room.
Her eyes instantly went to Tammy and she smiled.
Setto walked forward, his hand resting securely against the small of Tamilore’s back, guiding her.
“Mother. Father. Aunties and Uncles. This is Tamilore. The woman I spoke to you about.”
Tammy stepped forward, her heart pounding, but she kept her chin high.
She gracefully bent her knees, offering a deep, respectful traditional greeting to the elders.
“Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma. It is an honor to meet you.”
For a brief, agonizing second, the room held its breath.
Then, Engineer Bello’s sharp eyes softened slightly. He gave a single, slow, authoritative nod of approval.
“Welcome to our home, my daughter,” the patriarch said, his voice a deep, gravelly baritone that carried the weight of decades of command.
Dr. Amina stepped forward, completely bypassing the formal distance, and wrapped her arms around Tammy in a warm, genuine embrace.
The scent of her expensive rosewater and motherly warmth washed over Tammy, instantly breaking the ice.
“Welcome, Tammy,” Dr. Amina whispered near her ear, holding her back to look at her face with deep satisfaction.
“You look absolutely beautiful.”
The aunties and uncles instantly broke into warm chatter, completely charmed by Tamilore’s poise and her respectful greeting.
Dr Amina mentioned to them that Tammy was the one who styled her for her birthday.
One of the aunties, Auntie Safiya, clapped her hands together, her gold bangles ringing.
“Ah, Setto! You have done well. She is very beautiful, very proper. Come and sit near me, my darling.”
Tamilore let out a soft laugh.
She sat down among the elders, handling their complex, inquisitive questions about her family and her styling business with a sharp, humble intelligence that left them nodding in deep appreciation.
Setto stood near the pillar, his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching his woman conquer his family with a fierce, quiet pride burning in his soul.
A nanny quietly stepped into the room from the side wing, carefully cradling Eliana in her arms.
The baby girl, wearing a soft pink onesie, was chewing happily on a silicone teething ring, her large dark eyes scanning the bright room.
“Bring her here,” Setto murmured, his entire frame softening instantly as he walked over to meet them.
He gently took the small, warm weight of his daughter into his massive arms.
Eliana gave a soft, bubbly sigh, dropping her teether as she recognized her father’s scent, resting her tiny cheek against his wide shoulder.
Setto turned toward the sofa, walking slowly so as not to startle the little girl, and stood right before Tammy.
“Tammy,” Setto said softly, his voice full of a tender warmth.
“Look who’s awake from her nap.”
Tammy’s eyes lit up the moment she looked up and saw the baby girl.
She stood up gracefully, shifting her clutch to the couch, her arms already opening automatically.
“Oh, look at those cheeks! Eliana, hi sweetie.”
Setto watched with a racing heart as Tammy expertly slipped her hands under the baby’s arms, supporting her small back as she guided Eliana onto her hip.
Eliana blinked twice, her little mouth forming a round ‘O’ as she stared at Tamilore’s gold earrings, before she reached out a chubby, dimpled hand to touch Tamilore’s shoulder, letting out a high-pitched, wet baby giggle.
“She remembers you,” Setto whispered, his eyes dark with an intense, quiet emotion as he watched his daughter rest comfortably against Tammy.
The sight of them together was almost overwhelming.
Soon the sweetness in the room was abruptly sliced through by a cold, heavy frost.
Koda walked into the living room space.
She didn’t look at the elders, and she didn’t look at her mother.
She was dressed in a hyper-trendy, oversized designer blazer and silk trousers, her face an absolute mask of icy, snobbish contempt.
She didn’t greet Tammy.
She simply marched over to the furthest corner of the grand sofa, sat down heavily, and instantly glued her eyes to her phone screen, her thumb flicking against the glass with aggressive speed.
The atmosphere in the room dipped slightly.
Dr. Amina’s eyes flashed with a warning, and Engineer Bello’s brow furrowed, but they remained quiet out of respect for the guests.
Tammy noticed it instantly. The coldness radiating from Koda was like a physical wall.
She kept her composure, keeping Eliana safely balanced on her lap while adjusting the baby’s little pink socks, but she could feel Koda’s passive-aggressive energy cutting through the air.
“Koda,” Auntie Safiya said, trying to bridge the gap.
“Have you greeted your brother’s guest? This is Tamilore.”
Koda didn’t lift her eyes from her phone. She let out a short, sharp, and incredibly rude scoff.
“I’ve seen her, ma. Good evening.”
The response was so clipped that a heavy, dead silence fell over the entire living room.
The aunties exchanged uncomfortable looks, and Tammy’s fingers froze against Eliana’s little hands.
The fierce Tamilore instantly reared her head, her jaw tightening.
She wanted nothing more than to drop a heavy, unrefined clapback that would shatter Koda’s arrogance into a million pieces.
But she swallowed it, forcing her expression to remain smooth, neutral, and poised for Setto’s sake.
Setto’s face went completely dark. The easy, loving warmth in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a cold, terrifying authority.
He stepped out from the pillar, his massive boots making a heavy, echoing sound against the marble as he walked straight over to where his sister sat.
He stood right in front of her, his shadow completely blocking out the light from the chandelier, engulfing her.
“Koda. Stand up,” Setto said.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a low, vibrating bass that made everyone in the room sit up straight.
Koda finally looked up, her eyes wide with a mix of defiance and sudden fear.
“Setto, I’m busy…”
“I said, stand up. Now,” he repeated, his gaze burning into hers like hot iron.
Koda stood up, her lip trembling slightly as she realized her brother was dead serious.
“Put the phone down, walk over there, and greet Tamilore properly,” Setto commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.
“I have warned you about this entitlement before. This is our house, you are my family, but that woman is my future. You will respect her.”
Koda’s face went from pale to a deep, burning crimson.
She looked at Setto. The brother who had always protected her, the brother who had been her shield through every family crisis and she saw nothing but absolute, unyielding rejection in his eyes.
The realization broke her.
Suddenly, a massive, heavy tear rolled down Koda’s cheek, followed by another.
“I hate you!” she choked out, her voice cracking with a raw, unexpected agony that stunned the entire room.
“I hate you, Setto! She hasn’t even been here for five minutes and you’re already shouting at me because of her! She’s going to take you away from me! You’re going to abandon me just like everybody else!”
With a loud, dramatic sob, Koda turned around, stomped her feet violently against the marble, and ran toward the grand staircase, her heavy silk trousers rustling as she sprinted up the steps, her weeping echoing through the high ceilings until a door slammed violently upstairs.
The living room fell into an absolute, stunned paralysis.
Tammy sat perfectly still, her heart hammering against her ribs, her arms instinctively wrapping tighter around Eliana.
Her direct brother, who had been sitting quietly near the dining area, stood up to go after her, his face full of worry.
“Let me go talk to her…”
“No,” Setto interrupted, holding up a large hand.
His chest was heaving under his linen shirt, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.
He looked at Tammy, his eyes softening with a deep, silent apology, before he looked up at the stairs.
“Stay here. I’ll deal with this myself.”
Setto turned and walked heavily up the stairs, his broad shoulders squared, determined to end this madness once and for all.
Setto walked down the long, carpeted corridor of the private wing, the sound of Koda’s muffled sobs growing louder as he approached her bedroom door.
He didn’t knock.
He turned the handle and walked inside.
Koda was flung across the mattress, her face buried deep into a silk pillow, her entire body shaking with violent, heavy weeping.
Setto closed the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the house.
He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down.
The mattress dipped under his massive weight.
He looked at his younger sister.
This girl who had been raised in absolute luxury, who carried herself with so much arrogance in public, but who was currently reduced to a terrified, weeping child on her bed.
He truly did not understand why she was so broken about this.
To him, Tammy was an addition of blessing, not a subtraction of love.
He reached out, his hand resting on her shoulder, shaking her gently.
“Koda,” he said, his voice no longer commanding, but deep, rough, and full of a brother’s heavy frustration.
“Look at me. Stop this crying and talk to me. Why are you doing this?”
Koda pulled her face out of the pillow, her makeup smeared, her eyes bloodshot and swollen.
She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, looking at him with a raw, childish fury.
“You don’t understand, Setto!” she screamed softly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
“You don’t care! Ever since that girl came into your life, you don’t even look at me. You don’t ask about my projects, you don’t take my calls immediately. You used to be my person! Now, you’re bringing her here, and Mother is smiling. You’re going to marry her, Setto! And when you do, she’s going to lock the door, and I won’t have a brother anymore!”
Setto stared at her, the hard lines of his face completely dissolving into a deep, heavy sigh.
He leaned forward, reaching out with both hands to grab her arms, pulling her gently toward him until she couldn’t escape his gaze.
“Look at me, Koda,” he said, his bass voice echoing in the quiet room.
“Listen to me clearly. You are my sister. My only sister. I held you in my arms the day you were brought home from the hospital. Nothing in this world. No business, no marriage, no woman, can ever take away my love for you. Do you hear me? You will always be my sister, and I will always be your shield.”
He pulled her into his broad chest, wrapping his massive arms completely around her frame.
Koda resisted for a split second, before she buried her face into his shirt, weeping softly now, her small hands clutching at his back.
Setto held her tightly, resting his chin on her head, letting her release the fear she had been carrying for weeks.
“But you need to understand something, Koda,” Setto whispered after a long moment, his voice steady and grave.
“Tammy is not your enemy. She is a blessing. And your behavior down there isn’t just rude; it’s a reflection of something broken inside you.”
He slowly pulled back, reaching over to the nightstand where a beautifully bound, leather Bible sat.
A gift he had given her for her birthday two years ago that she rarely touched.
He opened it deliberately, his long fingers turning the thin pages until he found the passage he was looking for.
“Listen to what the Word says,” Setto said, his voice carrying the deep, spiritual authority of a man who built his life on scripture.
He looked down at the page and read clearly:
“A man that hath friends must show himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”
He closed the Bible and looked deep into her eyes.
“Koda, you are surrounded by high-society people who flatter you because of our surname, but you don’t have real friends. You are threatened by Tammy because she is real. She has built her life through hard work and faith, and instead of learning from her, you are projecting your insecurities onto her. You need real godly women in your life, Koda. You need to stop being threatened by everyone who walks into this family.”
Koda wiped her eyes, her expression shifting into a defensive scowl, though the tears had stopped.
She looked down at her lap, her voice dropping into a tight, bitter whisper.
“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with her,” Koda muttered, her lip curling.
“That’s exactly how you were with Chloe, Setto. Remember? You came back from the UK talking about how she was beautiful and sweet and perfect. And what did she do? She married you, she erraticized your life, she almost destroyed our family business with her madness, and she left you broken. Everyone thought she was sweet in the beginning too. How sure are you that this Tammy isn’t just another Chloe waiting to tear you down?”
The mention of Chloe’s name sent a brief, icy chill through Setto’s veins.
The memory of his ex-wife, that erratic, untameable woman who had turned his life into an absolute battlefield, was a scar he would never entirely forget.
But the moment Tammy’s face entered his mind, the chill evaporated, replaced by a warm, solid, and unshakeable certainty.
“My Tammy is nothing like Chloe,” Setto said, his voice dropping into an absolute, iron-clad register that brooked no argument.
“Chloe was driven by her own ego and her own chaos. Tammy is driven by her fear of God. There is an altar in that girl’s life, Koda. I’ve seen her pray. I’ve felt the peace that follows her. Do not ever compare her to my past again.”
Koda stared at him, seeing the absolute, terrifying gravity in his eyes.
She knew her brother; she knew that when he spoke with this level of conviction, there was no changing his mind.
She was not convinced.
Her snobbish, high-society walls were too thick to melt in one afternoon.
But she knew she had pushed him to his absolute limit.
“Fine,” Koda muttered, looking away, her shoulders slumping.
“I’ll behave. I’ll apologize to her.”
“Good,” Setto said, standing up and extending his hand to lift her from the bed.
“Wash your face. Let’s go downstairs.”
When Setto and Koda walked back down the grand staircase, the living room had moved to the long, mahogany dining table.
The family was already seated, laughing and enjoying a massive spread of jollof rice, pounded yam, rich egusi soup, and tender cuts of roasted beef.
Tammy was sitting between Dr. Amina and the baby’s seat, gently rocking Eliana’s little stroller with her foot while she ate, her expression perfectly composed, though her eyes were guarded as she watched them descend.
Koda walked over to the table, her face washed clean of makeup, her posture stiff and rigid.
She stopped right behind Tammy’s chair.
The conversation at the table died down instantly.
Koda cleared her throat, her voice tight, sounding as if each word were being dragged out of her throat with hot pincers.
“Tammy... I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. I was stressed about a project and I took it out on you. It was uncalled for. Welcome to our home.”
The apology was crude, mechanical, and entirely grudging.
Anyone with eyes could see she didn’t mean a single word of it.
Inside Tamilore’s chest, she flared up.
Every raw instinct she possessed wanted to turn around, look Koda dead in her face, and drop a biting response:
Na you sabi. Whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay. Normally, you suppose dey call me Aunty Tamilore. I no be your mate before. But no wahala. Na your brother carry me come here.
But Tammy looked past Koda’s shoulder and caught Setto’s eyes.
He was standing a few paces away, his gaze locked onto her, filled with a silent, pleading vulnerability.
This giant, powerful industry titan was silently begging her to help him keep his family together.
Tamilore took a deep, stabilizing breath, forcing her jaw to relax.
She turned around in her chair, a soft, beautiful, and completely poised smile breaking across her radiant face.
“It’s completely fine, Koda,” Tamilore said, her voice smooth, sweet, and entirely dignified.
“I completely understand how stressed out one can be. Thank you for the welcome.”
Setto let out a visible, heavy breath of pure relief, his shoulders slumping as he walked over to take his seat at the head of the table.
Dr. Amina smiled deeply, her respect for Tamilore hitting an all-time high.
Koda gave a stiff, tight nod, and quickly took her seat at the far end of the table, burying her face back into her phone.
Tammy turned back to Eliana, her smile remaining steady, but beneath the surface, her mind was completely alert.
She knew this was only the beginning. Koda Bello was going to be an absolute, unmitigated menace but Tamilore was ready for the war.
The drive back to Tammy’s apartment was quiet, the late-night Lagos traffic moving in a blur of red and white taillights.
The heavy tension of the family dinner had completely dissipated, leaving behind a deep, exhausting intimacy.
Setto parked his car in the familiar security lot of her building.
He didn’t turn off the engine, but he switched off the headlights, letting the soft, warm amber glow of the dashboard illuminate the cabin.
He turned in his seat, shifting his heavy frame to face her completely.
Without a word, he reached out, his massive, warm hands finding her smaller ones, wrapping around them completely.
He lifted her hands to his lips, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to her knuckles, his eyes locked onto hers with an absolute, burning devotion.
“Thank you, my love” Setto whispered, his bass voice thick with an emotional weight that made Tammy’s heart swell.
“Thank you for tonight, Tammy. I know what Koda did was difficult. I know the apology she gave was stiff. But the way you handled her... the way you kept your poise for my sake... I have never respected a woman more than I respect you right now.”
Tammy looked at their joined hands, a soft, tired laugh escaping her lips, her beautiful smile showing in the dim light.
“Setto, I won’t lie to you. I wanted to tell her off so bad. She is incredibly spoiled. She’s going to be a lot of work.”
“I know,” Setto chuckled roughly, leaning forward, bringing his face closer to hers.
His eyes flared with a sudden, blistering heat– the sizzling chemistry between them snapping back into place with the force of a magnet.
“But you showed her tonight that you are a woman of structure. You didn’t break. You are exactly what this family needs, my Queen. You are exactly what I need.”
He reached out, his large palm cradling her jawline, his thumb gently smoothing over her deep skin.
The heat of his touch sent a violent rush of electricity straight down her spine.
He pulled her forward gently, wrapping his massive arms around her petite frame, burying his face into her hair.
Tammy wrapped her arms securely around his broad waist, leaning her head against his solid chest, listening to the heavy, thunderous, and completely safe beating of his heart.
She felt entirely protected, entirely loved, and ready to face whatever wildfire was coming next.
“We continue our Bible study again tomorrow morning on FaceTime,” Setto whispered into her hair, his grip tightening with a sweet, possessive certainty.
“Six sharp. Don’t be late, woman.”
“I won’t be late, man,” she breathed, her heart completely at peace in his arms.
My Ship is Sailing💃💃
Can somebody help me beg Tammy to give Setto a pet name🥹🙏. She’s such a hard guy. 🌝
Ps: Setto is a man in every word.
Let’s get the engagements rolling 🥰🥰
Dear Koda, please leave Tammy alone. She is not the cause of your problems. Thank you very much.🙂
Ahhh. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Thank youuuuuuu so muchhhhhhhhh