Amara swallowed slightly. “You’re dangerous,” she whispered.
“How?”
“You say things that make sense.”
He smiled lightly. “Is that a problem?”
“Yes,” she said. “Because I’m starting to believe you.”
Their hands were still touching.
Neither of them pulled away.
Slowly, Namdi stepped closer, giving her time, giving her space to stop him.
She didn’t.
“Amara,” he said softly.
She looked up at him. “Yes?”
He leaned in.
This time, there was no hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Their lips met again—deeper, warmer, more certain.
She responded instantly, like she had been waiting for it.
Time blurred.
The world outside disappeared.
No village. No city.
Just two people standing between two completely different worlds, choosing each other.
Later, as they sat quietly together, Amara rested her head lightly against his shoulder.
“This is level four?” she asked softly.
Namdi smiled. “Yes.”
She nodded slowly. “Then level five must be serious.”
He looked at her. “It is.”
She lifted her head, curious. “What is it?”
Namdi held her gaze.
“My future.”
For the first time since she met him, Amara didn’t have a quick reply.
She just looked at him and realized this was no longer just a game of levels.
The city always had a way of revealing secrets.
Even the ones you buried carefully.
Even the ones you never planned to share.
And Namdi’s secret—Amara—was beginning to slip through the cracks.
It started with a photo.
Not a planned one. Not a professional one.
Just a blurry image taken by someone in the village market days earlier.
Namdi sitting beside Amara, cutting meat awkwardly while she laughed at him.
Someone had posted it online with a caption:
Isn’t this the billionaire Namdi? Why is he in a village market like an apprentice?
It was meant as a joke.
But the internet did what it always did.
It spread.
By the time Kletchi saw it, she nearly dropped her phone.
“Jesus Christ.”
She zoomed in.
“No. Oh no. This cannot be him.”
But it was.
The posture. The face. The unmistakable calm confidence.
Namdi in a village market helping sell meat, laughing with a girl.
Within an hour, screenshots were everywhere.
Blogs picked it up.
Billionaire spotted living low-key life in village.
Who is the mystery girl with Namdi? Love or crisis?
CEO goes missing from city life.
And then the board found out.
Namdi’s city office was cold that morning.
Too cold.
Not because of air conditioning.
Because of tension.
His board of directors sat around a long glass table, faces tight, confused, and slightly offended.
“He just disappeared,” one man said sharply. “No notice. No explanation.”
Another leaned forward. “And now we are seeing him online—selling meat.”
A woman scoffed. “Selling meat is not the problem. The problem is the distraction.”
Kletchi stood quietly at the side, silent but tense.
Then the doors opened.
Namdi walked in, calm and unbothered, like nothing in the world had changed.
He wore a simple dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, no tie.
He looked like a man who had just returned from somewhere far away.
Because he had.
A silence fell instantly.
One of the directors stood. “Where have you been?”
Namdi sat down slowly. “Home.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is for me.”
The room tightened.
Another director spoke more sharply. “You left your company without approval. Do you understand the implications?”
Namdi nodded slightly. “I do.”
“And you think that is acceptable?”
He leaned back in his chair. “No.”
Silence again.
The bluntness unsettled them more than excuses would have.
Kletchi finally spoke softly. “Sir, there are reports circulating about you in the village.”
Namdi smiled faintly. “I know.”
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