𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝙱𝚃𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 #𝟷)

Chapter 1

Only one word described the image that stared back at me, Perfection.

I daintily picked up my backpack and left the room.

My house was quite big, it was practically a mansion. I descended the spiral staircase, my father, the "most honorable" Femi Coker sat in the living room, reading a newspaper and dressed in his chiefly attire while the maids went about their chores. One of the perks of being the daughter of one of the richest men in Lagos state, I didn’t have to do a thing.

I dropped my bag on one of the leather chairs and walked into the kitchen where mother, Aisha and a few maids were making breakfast. I hugged my favorite, and only, sister from behind.

"Good morning baby sister." She cooed, smiling at me.

"Good morning, Aisha. Wow, you are looking smoking hot." I exclaimed as I assessed her dress. As a student of law in UNILAG, she was dressed in a black, knee-length bodycon gown with a fancy zip in front. Her white stilettos were without blemish and her weave looked brand new as always. I didn’t understand why she bothered with human hair, her natural hair was long enough.

"You can greet your sister but you don't even have the courtesy to greet your own mother." My mother, Amina Coker, sneered. I rolled my eyes, earning myself a nudge in the side from Aisha.

Forcing a smile, I murmured, "Good morning, Mother." emphasizing the word "Mother". I stopped calling her Mum a long time ago.

"That's more like it. Good morning my dear, how was your night?" She asked. I ignored her and turned to Aisha.

"When will you be leaving?" I asked.

She gave me a look that warned be to be careful before replying me "Immediately I'm done with breakfast, why?"

"I will be waiting in your car. You are giving me a ride to school." I replied her and turned to walk out of the kitchen.

"What about breakfast?!" Mother called after me.

"Nope." I answered without turning and left, I grabbed my bag from where I had dropped it earlier and started for the door.

"Young lady.” My father’s baritone voice made me stop in front of the door. I rolled my eyes and walked back to stand in front of him. He placed the newspaper on the stool beside him and removed his reading glasses.

"Yes, father?" I answered him.

"Have you seen me this morning?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Yes sir." Was my simple reply.

"And have you greeted me?" He asked.

You don't deserve my respect, was the reply that played on my tongue but being raised by a Yoruba Father and a Hausa mother who had spent all of her life in a Yoruba land, I quickly decided against it. Instead, I knelt like I was taught since my diaper days and did the right thing.

"E ka a ro sa (Good morning Sir)." I said begrudgingly, in my native language.

"Good morning. Wait for me, I will drop you off at school." He said as he stood. I rolled my eyes. He wanted to show off, like always. The Great Femi Coker. I wasn't going to let him

"Don't bother. Aisha will drop me." I simply told him, bypassing him.

"Omolara." He called my native name, his tone warning and that got me ticked off.

"Zaria, Father. Call me Zaria." I told him in a sharp tone.

Mum and Aisha were already in the room watching us. I looked at Aisha, "Are we going or not?" I asked her. She picked her white hand bag and walked towards me, I stormed out of the house. She opened her black Range Rover with the remote and I got in.