Poor Guard Saved Woman From Death Unaware She is His Rich Boss

“No problem. Enjoy your day.”

But Ifyoma did not want him to leave yet.

“Um,” she said quickly, standing before she lost her courage. “You’ve helped me twice now. Can I at least buy you a coffee?”

Tunday blinked, surprised.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said softly but firmly.

He hesitated for a moment. Most residents only gave orders, never offered. But there was something about her tone. No demands. No flirting. Just honesty.

“All right,” he said finally, a small smile appearing. “Coffee sounds good.”

They walked together to the small café across the street. No titles. No pretenses. Just a girl and a boy, strangers to each other. Maybe, just maybe, the beginning of something neither had ever hoped for.

The café smelled of fresh bread and strong coffee. It was not fancy—worn leather seats and wooden tables—but it was warm and real.

Ifyoma and Tunday sat by the window, two steaming cups between them. Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle, turning city lights into soft glowing colors.

They sipped their drinks quietly, both unsure of what to say.

Ifyoma kept stealing glances at him. Up close, Tunday was nothing like the polished men she was used to. His face was rugged, with a small scar below his jaw. His hands were rough and real, not delicate like the wealthy people she knew.

But there was something steady and safe about him.

She wanted to know him.

She wanted him to know her.

Not as the heir to an empire, but just as a girl who had lost everything and was trying to find herself again.

So she said, lightly stirring her coffee, “How long have you been working at Adaku Holdings?”

Tunday smiled softly.

“Six months.”