1: Wobidike Island
Aurora had heard the tales about Wobidike Island. Who hadn’t?
The tabloids painted it as a realm of contradictions: a serene paradise hidden within an urban jungle, where towering mangroves and lush gardens offered refuge from the city’s chaos. It was a fortress, a symbol of power and solitude reserved for Nigeria’s most influential dynasty. And yet, it was also indulgence personified—a gleaming jewel on the creek’s edge, where the water shimmered like molten gold under the setting sun.
To the outside world, it was mesmerizing. To Aurora, it had once been a dream.
She had first heard about Wobidike Island as a child, weaving fantasies of grand halls and secret gardens. When her mother married the heir to the Wobidike family, she had dared to hope it might become her reality—a palace pulled from the pages of a fairy tale. How naive she had been.
The Wobidike family never accepted her mother as one of their own. To them, she was an outsider, and by extension, so was Aurora. Neither of them had ever stepped foot on that legendary island.
Yet here she was now, on her way to the place she had once imagined so vividly. Not as family, but as a guest.
Once, the prospect of seeing Wobidike Island would have set her heart racing with excitement. Now, all she felt was a chill, a gnawing unease at the thought of the awkward encounters waiting for her on those pristine shores.
Aurora sat in the plush leather backseat of her father’s grand tourer, next to her celebrity stepsister, Mena. As always, Mena was basking in the glow of her own spotlight. She had expanded her mobile into tablet mode, the sleek screen now hovering inches from her perfectly contoured face. With a smile so wide it veered into unsettling, she was live-streaming to her tens of millions of fans.
“I can’t *wait* to set foot on Wobidike Island!” Mena gushed, her voice brimming with artificial enthusiasm. “It’s the social event of the year, people—the re-engagement ceremony of Senator Abel Wobidike and his *first* wife, Dame Hannah Thomas, of the *prestigious* Thomas family.”
Aurora rolled her eyes and carefully leaned out of the camera’s frame. She might not be a celebrity like Mena, but thanks to her mother, Ayomide Santiago—an actress with her own fame—Aurora’s face was recognizable enough to draw attention. And here, any attention was dangerous.
After all, attending this event wasn’t just awkward. It was scandalous. The re-engagement of Senator Wobidike to his first wife was a sore reminder of the tabloid-fueled narrative that had followed Aurora her entire life: her mother, the so-called “homewrecker,” blamed for ruining that very marriage.
As the car turned onto Victory Avenue, the boulevard tracing the left embankment of the Waja River, Wobidike Island finally came into view.
Aurora’s breath caught in her throat.
Bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun, the Wobidike manor rose from the heart of the island like something out of a dream. The gilded walls shimmered, every intricate detail reflecting the light as if the structure itself had been dipped in molten gold. It was beautiful. Majestic, even. But to Aurora, it was a monument to everything she had never been allowed to belong to.
The car joined a long line of luxury vehicles inching across the stone bridge that connected Victory Avenue to Wobidike Island. Civilian drones, buzzing like agitated mechanical birds, hovered overhead, scanning each car before the automated gates granted entry.
It was only from the bridge that the island’s true defences became evident. High fences crowned with laser rifles lined the perimeter, patrolled by security bots whose glowing optics seemed to pierce straight into the soul.
“It’s magnificent!” Mena breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. “I can’t believe I’ll get to live here after I marry Erik Wobidike.”
Aurora glanced sideways, surprised by Mena’s audacity.
“I hear he’s very handsome,” Mena continued, her cheeks flushing as she giggled. “Introduce us, will you?” she said, turning to Aurora.
Aurora made sure Mena’s live recording had ended before responding, her tone clipped. “I don’t think the Wobidike family is eager to risk another celebrity in-law.”
Mena scoffed, undeterred. “I don’t need your help. I’ll make him fall for me anyway. I’m too beautiful to ignore.”
“Hey, don’t fight over a boy,” said Uju, Mena’s mother and Aurora’s stepmother, from the front passenger seat.
The exchange annoyed Aurora, though she felt a twinge of shame for why it did.
Erik Wobidike wasn’t just the most eligible bachelor in Nigeria—he was practically a modern prince. The sole heir of Senator Abel Wobidike and grandson to both Admiral Wobidike, the family patriarch, and banking tycoon Sir Eugene Thomas, Erik had wealth, power, and dashing good looks in equal measure. High-society parents schemed relentlessly to attach their daughters to him, and Mena, ever ambitious, clearly saw herself as a worthy contender.
But Aurora knew better.
Her father, Abraham Donovan, and stepmother Uju had their own ambitions for Erik. As the heiress of both the Donovan family and the influential Santiago family of Lagos—and, crucially, not a celebrity—Aurora was the more pragmatic choice. Mena wasn’t even a Donovan, and her fame worked against her. Aurora’s established history with Erik only made her more appealing.
That was likely why her father had insisted on accompanying them today, even though Aurora’s attendance at this event was fraught with awkwardness. Her maternal grandfather, retired Air Chief Marshall Wale Santiago, had also pushed for her to come, hoping she could mend the strained relationship between their families—a rift caused by her mother’s infamous affair with Senator Wobidike.
Still, none of this scheming eased Aurora’s nerves about seeing Erik again.
They hadn’t grown up together, as Erik had lived with his mother, but they’d spent holidays together as children. Back then, their relationship had been defined by friendly rivalry—until everything changed.
When Erik’s father rekindled his romance with his first wife, Aurora had fought to save her mother’s marriage. Erik, naturally, sided with his parents. The battle was bitter, and Erik had emerged victorious.
But victory came with a cost. In their final month together, Erik didn’t look like a winner. He seemed just as heartbroken by the dissolution of Aurora’s family as she was. In an effort to cheer her up, he’d planned three perfect dates. They had done more than lift her spirits—they’d sparked something deeper between them.
On their last night together, beneath the stormy skies of the nation’s capital, Aurora had shared her first kiss with Erik on the balcony of the Wobidike Mansion. She could still feel the electricity in the air, the thunder rolling in as if the universe itself had been holding its breath.
They had promised to keep in touch, but the media frenzy following their parents’ separation had made that impossible. Aurora had been whisked away to Lagos, essentially imprisoned in her family’s Ikoyi château, until her father intervened.
Four years had passed since that kiss, and while Aurora had tried to move on, no other crush had ever measured up. Now, as the car crept closer to the gates of Wobidike Island, her heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Would Erik still be the boy she had fallen for? Or had time turned them into strangers? The thought terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
.
