The Njemanze Villa glowed majestically in the night, adorned with breathtaking lights that cast an ethereal aura. As Michael pushed open the grand entrance, the entire place seemed to shimmer with elegance, even in the nighttime. The maids, who saw him, bowed their heads in greeting, but he paid them no attention, his face etched with a stoic indifference, seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Edward, engrossed in a newspaper, sat on the plush couch, while Patricia savoured a bowl of strawberries on the adjacent sofa. A tense silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the soft rustle of turning pages.
Michael's voice broke the stillness, a hint of disbelief lacing his tone. 'Mum... you're still awake?' His brows furrowed in surprise, a flicker of unease crossing his features. Finding it hard to believe that his parents were still up, enjoying their time before going to bed, he sensed something was amiss.
Patricia's face softened as she rose to embrace her son. 'Son, did you come back from a date?' she enquired, her voice laced with a hint of trepidation.
Michael's reply was clipped, his gaze hardening. 'Since you already know, there's no point in asking,' he muttered, his voice devoid of warmth.
Edward slammed his newspaper down, his voice booming with disapproval. 'Do you speak so coldly to your mother because of that girl?'
Michael's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with defiance. 'Dad, you're a man of refinement. Choose your words carefully. My girlfriend is no mere 'girl.' She's soon to be part of this family,' Michael declared firmly, his voice unwavering as he stood his ground.
Patricia's lips thinned into a line of disapproval. 'Over my dead body!' she exclaimed, her voice laced with icy finality.
Michael's eyes narrowed, a serious expression crossing his face. 'Don't jinx yourself, Mum,' he retorted, his voice tinged with a cautious tone.
Edward frowned, his gaze shifting between his son and wife, the weight of the brewing storm settling heavily upon him. 'What did you say?' he demanded, his voice laced with concern.
Michael met their gazes head-on, his voice devoid of emotion. 'You heard me clearly, both of you. I'm glad you did,' he said, his words carrying an unsettling finality.
'There's no way I will recognise that poor, lowly woman of yours as my daughter-in-law. Her presence in this family will tarnish our name,' Patricia adamantly declared.
A chilling smile played on Michael's lips. 'Then get ready to buy cleaning supplies to wipe her away every day, because soon you'll have to be a cleaner, constantly scrubbing until you get tired and give up,' he said, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm.
'You need to be careful with your choice of words,' Edward cautioned Michael.
'I will bring Chioma to meet both of you very soon. Aunty Isabelle is right; I should bring Chioma home. Make the necessary preparations,' Michael said calmly, leaving no room for argument. With that, he turned and ascended the stairs, leaving his parents in the stunned silence of their disapproval.
Patricia let out a frustrated huff as Michael's footsteps faded away. 'That wretched girl will never step foot in this house as my daughter-in-law,' she declared.