WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

Azuaka Jnr. started thinking. Now Nku has sent a text, maybe the software is ready. It will be time to search for bank account numbers of people. Our stealing will be unlimited. This is the prime of our lives. The world will be in our pockets after Christmas. This is my dream come through. This is my dream come through.

On his way to buy breakfast, Agu kept thinking; the stake is hundred million dollars now. I got to confront Nku about that. Nku and Ferguson know better than I do. All I want is money. I have come a long way in this hustle. I must not lose out. Yes. “I want bread and cigar,” he said to chubby lady in a stall.

Ferguson stirred the coffee before he had a sip. “The Chinese baron called me yesterday. He can’t wait to have the software.” He had a sip again.

“I can imagine his impatience. But he got to know that patience is the fuel of success. I have invited the boys over to notify them of our plans.”

Ferguson served him a cup of white coffee.

“We got to slow things down. Azuaka is still unhappy about our rash moves. He will be happy when he gets to know that the software is ready for work and then I will advise him on selling the software. He will concur.”This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

“Ok.” He lit a cigar, dimming his eyes and then giving out a cloud of smoke. “You just got to know that the loan I got from the bank is multiplying as the day goes by. If we sell the software we can set off our debt and still have much to save.”

“That will be an issue, Ferguson. How do I tell the boys that we borrowed twenty million dollars to finance the project?”

“We mustn’t tell them everything. We have agreed to keep it secret that is why we are selling the software at hundred million dollars so that everyone will smile home with something after settling the debt.”

I have never kept anything secret from my pals, Nku thought, never.

“It is hundred million dollars. We share fifty million amongst ourselves, pay off the debt of twenty million, and we have thirty million to share between us.”

“Nice idea. After all we have been on the front all this while they chilled their asses.”

Ferguson’s phone beeped. He got hold of it and saw a message from Mr. Ziu that read:

When do we meet to write you guys the cheque?

– Mr. Ziu

“It is Mr. Ziu. He wants to know when we will meet for the cheque.”

“Reply him to hold on for now,” said Nku.

“I am tired of this shit. Why do we wait any longer?”

“The boys.” He pummeled his fist into his palm to drive harder his message. “The boys.”

Ferguson snorted, lit another cigar and went to the window and looked out to the ocean view to control his fury.

Nku looked at the screen of the laptop and, MONKEYS SOFTWARE. CLICK TO UNLOCK, displayed in red color. Smiles came on his face. We are here now, he thought.

Opula felt totally chilled out at the reception, dashing in a body fit mini gown that revealed her curves and cleavage in a maddening way. Her hairdo was Rihanna which left her with one eye.

“Merry Christmas, madam.” The bartender etched a smile.

Opula smiled back.

“Mr. Nku says you can place your order while he comes.”

“All right.” She adjusted her head this way and that way before her red-glossed lips said. “I don’t mind a red wine.”

“Good.” The bartender pointed to a corner. “Over there is our barroom. After you, please.”

Her eyes combed around the barroom. A few couples and their children were having a feel of the season. She had barely settled to her order when Ferguson stood in the door, stared around and finally locked eyes with her. He walked on. She blushed at his presence. She would pretend to meet with Nku, and charm Ferguson into her life and execute all that Azuaka wanted. She would be careful. I got be careful, she thought.

Looking to a meager, pretty, face above we-don’t-drop bust, he muttered, “You must be Opila.”

She corrected, “Opula, please. O-P-U-L-A,” She spelt. Ferguson smiled and she said further “Your kind knows how to make names sound like virus. I know more than a few white dudes that speak my language fluently.”

“Pardon me. Can I sit?”

She shook her head and his green eyes beckoned on her. Undoubtedly, she had always been a sucker for white men with green eyes. Inwardly she cautioned herself to be a tight ass, not to be charmed by his green eyes, dark hair with healthy sheen and tattooed hairy arms.

“I will be of all men most miserable if I don’t say you’re a looker.”

“You are lusting after another man’s wife?”she asked.

“You don’t look it,” replied Ferguson, smiling and looking more accommodating. He could feel blood flowing from his head to his waist.

She noticed his stare around her bust while he uncorked the wine.

The cork came out of the bottle with a loud pop. “Merry Xmas,” said Ferguson, pouring her a glassful.

“Thank you.” Opula sipped and through the glass caught his smile. She wished some men like Ferguson would have perfect, ideal romance decision. When he pulled his hand and said “Ferguson,” her spine was tingled by his baby palm; something close to strange passion. “Opula. O-p-u-l-a,” she spelt again and she wondered why she so much cared about his accent. Many people had mispronounced her name and she never cared. Why Ferguson? I got to be careful, she thoughtfully reminded herself.

“Opila, sorry, Opula,” he corrected. “Is that right?” he asked and when she said nothing, he tapped the table twice. “Nku will be with you shortly.” He fondled into his pocket and brought out a cigar. “Roi Tan,” he said. “Do you smoke?” You can’t afford to miss Roi Tan.” He pressed the butane lighter.

“No,” said Opula, imagining how unused his looks were; earth had not taken much from him. His pink, thick, full-stop lips puffed with skills. “So how are you enjoying your stay in California?” She wanted to catch sight of the tattoo on his unsteady arms.

“Cool. They say the destiny of every American is embedded here, including mine.” He said after a quick puff, “I have been wondering since I saw you,” he paused, hoping he would not sound like a roughneck.” “Are those breasts on your chest natural?”

She giggled. “Why do you ask? Are you fortunate to behold it?”

He threw away his gaze from her bust as he laughed. “I have been sucking silicon. I can’t wait to suck good stuff.”

“What makes you feel I don’t do silicon? So was that why you kept them waiting at the club?”…