TIDES OF DESIRE

ched, loud, blaring with horns, laugh

aytime skin of sweat and commerce and slipped into something more seductive. Power suits gave way to s

ween a luxury spa and a discreet politician's mansio

ab looked like a painting come alive - bold brush strokes and unspoken tension. Her hair was

the event, the atmosphere, the invite list, the lighting, even the

he couldn

ee

g by the bar like a bored goddess. Clad in black-on-black Chanel with stile

Loosen up. It

ell that to my lungs. I swear

"You're worried

ed halfway to her l

w who. The tech prince you keep r

nde

. Boring. And extremely unavailable e

t where he built a billion-naira start

in. "And you

e entrance shifted. Flashbulbs. Laughter. Vo

ab f

, leather sandals, a Rolex peeking through his sleeve like subtle power. Tun

Men nodded w

heir eyes met. And Zainab's

they were still lovers.

in honey and habit. "This is s

slightly. "So do you. But you al

her waist before catchi

silences, the way he always made her feel like a ve

she said. "We

ore he could respo

hen she

tes, stood a woman with short curls, a camera around her neck, and a

lowed he

ht her staring. Instead o

Bold curation. Angry. Ho

s. That piece is calle

m Adaeze. Photographe

d. "Zainab. Curator.

holding it a second

oks awful on y

dn't made in weeks. It bubbled

politics, feminism, and the hypocrisy of Lagos brunch culture. Tunde ho

else was

sp

sh

of them co