The night of the gathering arrived, and Jumoke and Bamidele moved through the crowd with calculated grace. Every movement, every glance, every word was laden with meaning. The air between them felt charged, and every moment felt like they were walking on the edge of a precipice.
As the evening wore on, they found themselves alone in a secluded corner of the estate, away from the prying eyes of their families. The tension that had been building between them was now palpable, thick in the air.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Jumoke,” Bamidele whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I don’t know how much longer we can keep pretending.”
Jumoke reached for him, pulling him closer, her lips finding his in a kiss that was both tender and desperate. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I want all of you, Bamidele. And I don’t care about the cost.”
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as if to shield her from everything outside their embrace. “Then we’ll face it together,” he vowed, his words fierce. “No matter what it costs.”
But as they kissed, the shadows of their world loomed closer, and the cost of their love was becoming clearer. For in 122 Series, nothing—no love, no passion—came without a price.