The security guard, Uche, leaning against the wall near the entrance to the stage of the Golden Royale Hotel auditorium, straightened as he saw Gabrielle Rosenfeld come in by the back door.

“Mrs. Rosenfeld,” he said, touching the brim of his cap. “We were told you were ill. The chairman would be so glad you were able to make it after all, even just for the end.”

The woman smiled briefly and glanced at the stairs leading to the podium

“He’s still on stage. He’d be leaving from the brown door on the other side,” Uche said.

She nodded.
“You still have time to slip in and leave with him before he leaves, if you like.” He added helpfully.

She nodded again and brushed past him, leaving with him the breeze of expensive scent in her wake, clutching her bag to her side. The guard watched her go, his eyes skimming her slim figure in the black Gucci suit, dropping to the exquisite legs covered in hose and narrow feet shod in calfskin pumps. He sighed. What a looker. If he had that waiting at home and two hundred million he wouldn’t be spending all his time stumping for a stressful political job that no sane man would want in the first place.
The woman stopped at the stage’s entrance, nodding to the press secretary, James Ugochukwu, who glanced up at her in surprise. He was gesturing for her to come up the stage while George Rosenfeld was leaving, smiling at the applause that accompanied his departure. As the members of the press rattled their papers and recorders, she stepped into the shadows, waiting until Rosenfeld had left the stage. He walked down the stairs, leaving the reporters, as some of his advisors enclosed him.
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Gr8t Work,ride On

Seat claimed

Ann2012:
Seat claimed

Shift for me aunty

LightQueen:
Shift for me aunty

Join me, take popcorn and Pepsi

EPISODE 2
When Gabrielle Rosenfeld’s doorbell rang a while later in Nawfia Street, the sound awakened her from a light sleep. She looked at the clock, remembered that she had sent Nelo home at four in the afternoon, and reached for her robe. She was belting it around her waist and climbing down the stairs when the doorbell rang again. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” She muttered, crossing the flowered rug on the parquet floor. She switched on the overhead light and the gold chandelier beamed with a dazzling glow. She pulled open the door.



Two policemen with badges on display stood on the brick pediment. Their expressions were grave. The first one was an older man of about fifty, and the younger, much taller, was a handsome man close to her age, with thick black hair and a steady brown gaze that made her kind of breathless and worried. Behind them were two police cars, their red-blue light pulsating silently.

Her hand went to her mouth. “Has something happened?” she said quickly. “My children?”



“Mrs Gabrielle Rosenfeld?”

“Yes, yes, what is it? What happened?”

“I’m Lieutenant Steve Ubaka of the police headquarters, New Haven,” the old man said flatly, and added, gesturing to his partner, “And this is Detective Ike Udeh. Mrs Rosenfeld, your husband is dead.”



Gabrielle gasped and the younger man stepped across to take her arm, leading her to a round seat at the base of the staircase. As she sat down, her hand pushed the delicate vase on the stand next to the chair, and the vase crashed to the floor, shattering and spilling water and roses.

Gabrielle glanced around at it automatically. “Don’t worry, Nelo would get that,” She said and then shook her head in annoyance. “No, she’s gone. I’d clean it up myself.” She started to stand up and the policeman pushed her to seat gently.

“Mrs. Rosenfeld,” Ike said, “Remain seated.”



Gabrielle looked at him sharply and obeyed, her eyes wide and watchful. Ike squatted down facing her, trying not to........
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EPISODE 3


Gabrielle Rosenfeld was being taken to a holding room as Ubaka and Ike completed the arrest report. Reporters screamed questions from the entrance door, and flashlights went off like fireworks in the dark as she made her way through the information mongers. The station sergeant shut the connecting doors after she had moved on, cutting the problem generated by the press.



Gabrielle looked over her shoulder at Ike as she passed.

“Why do I think she likes you, Ike,” Ubaka said chuckling and giggling, digging his elbow into Ike’s ribs.



“She’s going to be locked up with all those prostitutes and drug heads,” Ike said dryly, putting his cup down.

“Ike, she’s been accused of murder, not cheating on her husband. Where do you think she belongs? Should we put her up at Toscana Hotel and maybe get her an appointment at Indulge Spa while we wait for everything to unveil? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying she’d be a target for other prisoner, that’s all.” Ike replied uncomfortably.



Ubaka snorted. “She wouldn’t be there five minutes before high-priced mouthpiece bails her out.”

“I think she’d have to spend the night.”

“Don’t count on it. Anyone who can get Honorable Justice Nnamdi Anozie on his home phone would be in and out of jail like a shopping mall.”



“I think the DPO would want to keep her overnight.” Ike said flatly.

“So what? She’ll live. Come on, we should get back to her house and see what we missed out.”

They stood up together and left the station.

“Some classy woman, right?” Ubaka said once they got to the car. “She sure brought out the gentleman in you.



“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ike said flatly.

“You don’t? ‘Let her take her time to dress.’ ‘Don’t handcuff her.’ ‘Let her be searched in the parlour.’ I expected a red carpet.”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea to arrest her in her night gown, Arinze, not with all the photographers sure to be waiting for us when we brought her into the station. I also didn’t think it best to search her in front of us. And since each of us outweighs her at about two to one, I didn’t feel that she was likely to escape.”

Ubaka snorted and Ike restrained from saying anything more. It was obvious that Ubaka didn’t see Gabrielle Rosenfeld as being innocent while he himself had no problem doing that. She was a fragile, beautiful woman whose world had jumped out of earth and gone flying in space. Ubaka wanted her convicted immediately because she had money and had been married to a powerful man. Ike saw just the woman in her – frightened, vulnerable and.......
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Gr8t Story,pls Wire Us Chapter 4

Well done OP

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Bail had been set at one million, and Gabrielle got out the second she could, grateful she had survived one night in the hell hole she slept in.
Detective Ike had come to visit her that morning. He seemed a little uncomfortable, and looked like he hadn’t meant to visit but was drawn in by a greater force. Gabrielle looked up when he walked in and her expression cleared. “Oh, Officer Udeh,” she said.

“Detective,” he said correcting her.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. That’s important, isn’t it?” she said seeming annoyed with herself for under ranking him.
It is to me,” he said lightly. They gazed at each other. She looked as if she had spent a sleepless night, the bags under her eyes made him wonder if she had been crying all night. She still looked beautiful. He was trying not to stare but he just couldn’t look away from her.

“Is there anything else I need to do?” she said sharply.

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?” Will they let me out on bail?” she asked, changing the question. “Nnamdi, Judge Anozie,” she corrected, uncertain what name Ike knew the judge as. “Said the DPO and the prosecuting attorney might be trying to make an example of me and would argue to keep me confined.” She smiled thinly and it made the hairs at the back of his neck stand. “I understand the DPO wants to become governor someday, and my misfortune may help him get there.”

“You’re not a career criminal, Mrs. Rosenfeld. I’m sure they would let you out.” He said.

“I seem to be convicted already.”

“I can’t discuss your case outside the presence of your lawyer, but I tell you that from my experience, people in your situation are usually released on bail. A high price, but they get out.” ... CONTINUE READING: https://ugobestiky.com/2019/02/18/craving-hopes-4-real-life-story/