by Kiru Taye
Making Scandal
The Essien Trilogy Book 2
By
Kiru Taye
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Making Scandal
Smashwords Edition
ISBN: 9781311433916
Copyright© 2014 Kiru Taye
Editor: Zee Monodee
Cover Artist: Love Bites and Silk
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used
or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
KT Press
www.kirutaye.com
Blurb
Sassy, successful Faith Brown has earned her place in the boardroom through hard work and sheer ambition. Making family is not on her agenda when there are businesses to develop and competitors to outdo. So when a casual affair with smooth and irresistible tycoon Mark Essien leads to an unplanned pregnancy, she’s determined not to make the mistakes her mother made by living with a man just for the sake of her child.
For Mark, personal matters have no place in the boardroom. Spotting the perfect opportunity, he ruthlessly launches a takeover bid for Faith’s Investment Brokerage firm. Finding out he’ll soon be a father, he knows he can’t let the indomitable and sexy Faith go through with her plans of single parenthood. All gloves are off. He’ll seduce her by any tactic necessary if it means his child doesn’t suffer the same stigma he did as a child.
With the media dogging their affairs in the boardroom and the bedroom, they find that making family is harder than making scandal.
Dedication
To Chioma Nwoko Adeshina, I miss you.
There is nothing better than someone
who derives joy from having you in their life
who treasures you even in the small things
who welcomes you when times are hard
who consoles you when you are down
and who loves you no matter what.
Acknowledgements
I want to acknowledge all the wonderful people without whom this story would not have been written or published.
To God, thank you for giving me the talent to do what I love.
To my lovely husband, you are the best.
To my wonderful children who understand when mummy needs to do some work, and behave.
To my lovely supportive family who mind the kids and give me some much needed uninterrupted writing time.
To my wonderful critique group, thank you for your continuing support.
To my beta readers, thank you for keeping me on my toes.
To my editor, Zee, thank you for believing in this story and for helping me work out the kinks.
To everyone else who reads my stories and can't wait for the next book, you all inspire me.
I love you all!
Prologue
Mark Essien strode down the empty aisle towards the boxing ring. On his left hand side marched Felix, his older brother, Kola Banks, their bodyguard, on the man's other side. His brother's pace, controlled and confident, belied the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Mark knew. Anyone who saw Felix in his blue-with-white-band boxing attire—boots, shorts, robe and gloves—and understood what lay ahead would be clued in too.
Boxing had never been Mark’s thing, but Felix enjoyed it as a sport. Apart from training sessions at the membership-by-invitation-only exclusive private gym they used to keep in shape, he had not participated in a boxing fight since his days at university.
Footsteps echoed off the hard flooring, announcing their arrival with the thud of insistent drumbeats. Musk and citrus from air fresheners scented the cool air, wafting from overhead air-conditioning units. Beyond the reach of the aisle spotlights, the rest of the area lay in darkness, the spaced out exercise equipment resembling misshapen, shadowed aliens.
A touch of unease tightened Mark's shoulders. This would be Felix’s first serious match since his car accident and the subsequent six-week coma. Had four months been enough for him to recover?
Foolhardy notion to box today. However, no amount of logic from Mark convinced his brother to not fight. Good or bad, determination ran in Essien blood, a trait they all shared and part of the reason their business ventures rocketed with successes.
However, Felix had a wife, Ebony, and a baby on the way; no harm should come to him. They might not share the same mother, but Felix was his brother; his blood. And Essiens stood side by side, in love and in war.
Like right now.
In the ring occupying a chunk of the massive well-kitted gymnasium, his brother’s opponent leaned against the ropes, his corner men on either side of him. The referee stood at the centre alongside the owner of the boxing club. No one loitered in the sidelines. Kola had arranged this strictly private affair to set things right for Felix.
A lesson needed to be taught. No man messed with an Essien and got away with it.
Kola parted the ropes and Felix stepped between them. Mark stood at the edge of the ring, his hands in his trouser pockets, projecting outward calm when inside his concern for his brother's wellbeing rose. His stomach churned and his mouth dried out. He eyed the cooler at the base of the square platform which contained plastic bottles of mineral water, but didn't pick any.
Felix gave a cursory nod in acknowledgement at the other man. His opponent pulled his lips back, baring blue gum shield in a nasty sneer. This wasn’t meant to be a friendly fight. The stakes were too high, almost a winner takes all.
Felix ignored the man's taunt and rolled his shoulders, hopping around on his corner of the ring to keep his heart rate up.
Mark squinted at the opponent jumping and pacing his half of the ring. Stocky, he packed more weight than Felix, so if his brother got hit, he’d feel it. Felix had religiously watched all those videos of Mohammed Ali fights as a teenager. He hoped his sibling had learned a thing or two about avoiding punches.
"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," would come in very handy today.
The referee introduced them—Felix Essien versus Dele Savage—read out the rules, and started the countdown to the first round.
Kola took Felix’s robe and stepped out of the ring. "Remember, keep moving. Don’t let him hit you."
Felix jabbed the air in quick succession, hopped twice, and turned. Mark caught his gaze, leaned onto the hard base below the last rope and said, "Knock him the fuck out."
His brother nodded, bared the white mouth-guard in a grin, and rotated to face his adversary. At the bell, Dele Savage lived true to his name and ran at his brother like a bull, with a jab. Felix ducked and hit out with a left hook, connecting with his opponent’s right side. They circled each other. Another jab came at him. He blocked and threw a cross punch.
Watching his brother fight reminded Mark of the first time he'd ever seen Felix throw a punch. As a kid, Mark had been thin and tall, bookish and a little awkward. His confidence and body had filled out later, in his teenage years.
In his earlier days, he'd lived with his mother who hadn't been married to Chief Essien, their father at the time. He'd known Felix was his older brother by two years, though they lived in different homes yet attended the same primary school.
Felix has always been athletic, at home on the sports field. Mark preferred playing a Gameboy or readi
ng a book than doing anything that required physical exertion.
In those days, Mark couldn't understand why he only saw his brother at school, or why they couldn't hang out more frequently. Neither did he understand why he could only see his father once a month.
The kids in his school picked up on this fact and made fun of him. Mark had hated the taunts and lashed out the only way he could, with his acerbic tongue. One lad hadn't taken his blistering words well and had gone as far as pushing him down in the playground.
Like a super hero, Felix had stepped in and asked the kid to back off. Between the heart hammering in his chest and the loud rush of blood in his ears, Mark could barely open his mouth to tell his brother not to defend him. After all, Bully Bami, as the boy was known by the pupils, was twice the size of most kids in the playground and Felix went on a suicide mission by challenging him.
Still, Mark could only watch on as if the actions unfolding before him were from a television screen. The boy shoved Felix in the chest. Felix responded with a jab that landed midriff and sent Bami careening into the circle of kids and onto his backside.
The incident earned them a trip to the Headmaster's office and an earful from their father. But Felix and Mark's relationship had been cemented on that day. Mark developed an awe-like respect for his older brother. When Felix's mother passed on and Mark's father married his mother, they all lived under the same roof, finally, and Mark and Felix became almost inseparable.
Ding. The sound of the bell drew his attention back to his surroundings. The first round ended. Felix stepped back and lowered his body onto the stool Kola placed in his corner.
The bodyguard bounded into the ring and crouched over Felix, outlining Dele's weaknesses and what Felix needed to do, while Mark pulled himself up behind the ropes and rubbed his brother's shoulders, reinforcing his silent presence with the physical contact. Mark's strength didn't manifest in the technicalities of boxing. But his brother would feel his presence and know that Mark stood behind him, with him, in this and always.
The next round went great and quickly. All of Felix’s punches hit their mark and he avoided being hit, except for one glancing blow on his shoulder.
In the third round, he caught the man out with a right upper cut, blood flying in the air. A drop splattered on Felix's forehead. Dele hit the deck. The dull, satisfying thud reminded Mark of sacks of food being offloaded out of containers at Apapa Wharf and chucked into mountainous piles.
The bell rang. Air rushed out of Mark's mouth, the tension knotting his muscles dissipating. Not that he hadn't believed in his brother winning the match. He just didn't like watching Felix get hurt.
Moreover he'd never witnessed Felix lose a fight except to Kola. Then again, they were not in the same class. It would be like comparing limes and oranges—Felix's welterweight to Kola's super middleweight. As a former member of the Nigerian Armed Forces, Kola was a trained fighter, built like a bullet-proof armoured tanker, but with the reflexes of a stealth fighter jet.
Kola jumped over the ropes and parted them for Mark to step through. Lips curled in a full smile, Mark embraced Felix, not caring that his torso was slick with sweat and wet patches now stained Mark's blue, silk shirt. Kola patted Felix's face with a towel.
The referee stepped forward and grabbed Felix's hand, lifting it high above their heads as he declared the winner.
Now, to collect the prize.
When Kola’s investigation had pointed all fingers at Ebony’s ex-fiancé as the man who had taped his encounter with her and sold it on to the blackmailer, Felix, Kola, and Mark had agreed they needed to get back at Mr. Savage. Kola had wanted to throw the man to the wolves or the area boys, the local gang of men Kola had mixed with as a kid, who saw Dele's actions as an affront to one of them.
But Felix hadn’t wanted a street brawl.
Neither had Mark. He had learned early in life that he could cause as much harm to a person with his brain as with a fist. In those days, what he lacked in superior athletic skill, he more than made up in academic prowess. He learned to read people and understand what made them tick.
One valuable lesson he acquired—people were willing to pay whatever price for an easier life.
So he started charging to do students' homework and tutoring them. Since he was in a private school, all the kids there were from wealthy families, so pocket money was par for the course. By the time he got to secondary school, he hadn't needed the pocket money from his parents. He had a regular income.
So when it came to punishing Dele, Mark's suggestion had been to strip the man of what made him a man—his wealth. Take away his job, house, and car, and make him destitute. This was Africa, after all. And like it or not, a man's worth was measured mostly by his status and lifestyle. Take them away and he would cease to be relevant in society and become nothing. Nobody.
Felix had chosen the boxing ring, instead—a legal and equally painful option—and had thrown the challenge to Dele in a way he couldn’t resist. Enter the boxing ring with Felix or face a malpractice suit. And of course, Dele hadn't known his opponent had been an Olympic standard athlete in his prime. Their family home had a cabinet decorated with Felix's tournament trophies.
To Felix, challenging Mr. Savage to a boxing match was the equivalent of a duel, an arrangement to engage into combat between two individuals to preserve one or the other's honour. Not only had Dele betrayed Ebony's trust, he had insulted Felix, in the process.
And according to his brother, "there's no greater satisfaction than the impact and crunch against flesh and bones when you knock an opponent out and see him sprawled on the floor."
Now the rat rocked on his knees before Mark’s brother, his face and lips distended from Felix’s punches. Kola slipped a smart phone into Felix’s hand, the small white towel now hanging over Felix's shoulders.
"I warned you that if you messed with my wife, I’d make you pay for it. You should’ve heeded my advice," Felix said, his voice raspy from the aftermath of his fight, his chest heaving as he inhaled short breaths.
"I haven’t seen or spoken to your wife since that day in the hospital," Dele mumbled through swollen lips, his head bent, his shoulders slumped.
Felix squatted beside his beaten foe. "I believe you. However, pictures of you and my wife were sent to me and my father with a threat of it being published online if we don’t meet specific demands. Do you know anything about that?"
"No. I...I don’t."
"We’ll see. Kindly unlock your phone for me." He held out the phone so Dele could see it.
"I won’t. Why should I?" The man lifted his head and glared with defiance, spitting a wad of bloody saliva at Felix’s feet.
Kola stepped forward.
Felix appeared to retain his cool, though. "You might consider changing your mind. Unlike me, Kola here has no qualms about disfiguring this pretty face of yours. No woman would want to look at it ever again."
Dele’s eyes widened and he pushed off the floor with his hands and staggered backward. Kola bunched his fists and took another step forward.
"All right. The code is 9-3-2-9."
"Thank you." Felix entered the number to the phone keypad and unlocked the screen. He accessed the media folder and scrolled through until he found what he was looking for.
"Well, well, well. So it was you. You recorded your time with Ebony and sold it on to a blackmailer. What kind of man are you?"
Disgust rolled through Mark and bile touched the back of his throat. What kind of bastard set up the woman who had once loved him?
"Tell me the name of the man," Felix ordered in a soft tone.
"No. I can’t," Dele replied, shaking his head.
Felix nodded.
Kola threw a jab and Dele fell back into the corner of the ring. He lifted his arms to block and punch back, but Kola didn’t let up. Each of his punches connected, the pounding sound against flesh and bones reverberating in the space, mixing in with Dele's grunts.
None of the other
men in the gym intervened. Not even Dele's corner men. They stood behind the ropes, watching as Kola delivered his own brand of justice and torture.
"Just say the name and he will stop," Mark's brother added after a moment.
"Petersen," Dele shouted in a pained voice. "Kris Petersen paid me to give him information about you and your wife."
Kola stopped throwing punches and stepped back. Felix nodded and gave the phone to Mark.
He opened the back and removed the micro SD card, then threw the phone on the floor where it shattered into pieces. They would retain the evidence and this way, Dele couldn't cause any more damage with those photos.
Dele's supporters suddenly turned up at his side, pulling him up from his slumped position. He shook them off, the snarl on his cut lips broadcasting his displeasure as well as the angry words he spat out in Yoruba.
"My promise still stands. Keep away from my wife so you can live a long life. I won’t be so gentlemanly next time."
Felix stepped off the ring and walked out, with Mark and Kola behind.
Kris Petersen – Nil. The Essiens – One.
The fight had only just begun.
Chapter One
Six months earlier...
"How can one man be so damned good-looking?"
Faith Brown tapped away on the screen of her hand-held tablet, ignoring Stella Orovi’s provocative statement. Her friend placed two tall glasses of the drinks she’d just ordered onto paper coasters and bumped the table as she sat down. Not wanting any liquid splashed onto her device, Faith grabbed it and raised her head, flashing a warning glance before returning to her task.
"Don’t tell me you’re not interested. He is one of the hottest men alive."
