The flight back to Lagos the next day was quiet. Nkechi was exhausted, her body a pleasant, dull ache. Chief was preoccupied, scrolling through emails on his phone. The public scene at the gala had seemed to satisfy something in him, a primal need to assert his ownership in the most blatant way possible. For now, he was content.

Back in the office, the routine resumed. But something had shifted. The power dynamic, once a clear-cut line, had become more complex. The public orgasm had been a ...