𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲

" Bound By Secrets "

The grand ballroom was buzzing with activity. Elegant gowns and sharp tuxedos mingled with the laughter of children and the clinking of glasses. The Cancer Charity Event was in full swing, with everyone eager to support the cause. The soft sound of classical music filled the room, providing a backdrop to the chatter and the occasional flash of a camera.

Onika was in the middle of it all, her usually stern face softened as she knelt beside a group of children, laughing and engaging them in conversation. She looked radiant, her warmth and kindness shining through as she spent time with the kids. Her tailored white suit stood out against the darker tones around her, making her the center of attention in more ways than one.

Beyoncé stood at the snack table, holding a glass of champagne in her hand, unable to take her eyes off Onika. A small smile played on her lips as she watched Onika interact with the children. This was a side of Onika few people got to see, and it warmed Beyoncé's heart. The way Onika's smile reached her eyes, the way she listened intently to each child-it was a rare, beautiful sight.

As Beyoncé sipped her drink, she suddenly felt a warm breath against her neck. She stiffened slightly, recognizing the presence behind her before she even turned around.

Michael's voice was a low warning as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "Stay away from Onika," he whispered, his tone laced with a threat. "Whatever twisted thing you think you have with her, it ends now."

Beyoncé turned slowly, her face calm but her eyes filled with defiance. She faced Michael, their faces just inches apart, the tension between them thick and palpable. "I'm not going to do that," she replied, her voice steady, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

Michael's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "She needs a strong man in her life," he hissed, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Not some whore who just wants to suck her clit."

Beyoncé's grip on her champagne flute tightened, but her expression remained cool. She took a step closer, pressing her hand against his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palm. "If she needed you so badly," she murmured, her voice dripping with contempt, "then why did she let me suck her clit like a whore?"

The words hit Michael like a slap, and his face twisted with rage. His hand shot out, his fingers curling as if to strike her, but before he could lay a hand on her, another voice cut through the air.

"Is there a problem here?"

They both turned to see Onika standing just a few feet away, her expression unreadable, but the tension in her posture was clear. She was no longer smiling, and the softness that had been there moments ago was gone, replaced by the sharp, calculating look she often wore in the Oval Office.

Michael immediately dropped his hand, straightening up as if nothing had happened. "No problem, babe," he said smoothly, trying to regain his composure. "Just a friendly conversation."

Beyoncé's eyes flicked to Onika, searching her face for any sign of what she was thinking. But Onika's expression gave nothing away. She simply stared at Michael, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took a step closer.

"Michael," Onika said quietly, her voice firm but calm, "this is a charity event. I suggest you keep your emotions in check."

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Onika silenced him with a look. It was a look that said more than words ever could-a warning, a command, and perhaps even a threat all rolled into one. Michael closed his mouth, the anger in his eyes simmering, but he didn't dare argue.