Novels by Hamzah Omolara

In the back of a black Mercedes parked near Bahnhofstrasse, Rebecca Edward sat motionless, her hands trembling in her lap.Her makeup was flawless, her perfume still sweet, but her composure was gone. Everything she had practiced, every line, every smile had melted away as Lawrence pushed those divorce papers across the table.“Sign them.” He had said.A tear slipped down her cheek, smudging her maraca.The door opened suddenly, which snapped her out of her thoughts. Jordan Mitch slid into the seat beside her, in his designer coat.He decided to stay in Zurich till his videos and pictures of him in the tailor’s studio died down.He took one look at her face and frowned.“Rebecca? What’s wrong? You called me that you’re in town, why do you look like hell?”She turned away, staring out the window. “Don’t talk to me.”Jordan chuckled, leaning back as he put two and two together.“You actually went through with it? You begged him?”“Jordan,”she snapped, glaring at him, “shut up.”But Jord

The snow was light that morning in Zurich, thin flakes swirling like white dust around the glass tower of LanceCorp.The city was crisp and alive, but inside Lawrence’s new office that once belonged to that late CEO, the air was steady, calm and commanding. Floor to ceiling windows revealed a skyline that stretched endlessly, and for the first time in his life, he was looking up to power or kneeling to it, he was in it.He was dressed in one of the custom black suit that he had gotten from the tailor’s studio. The tailor had called it “the emperor’s cut.”Every movement he took in the suit felt extremely expensive.He was reviewing acquisition reports when his secretary’s voice came through the intercom.“Sir, a woman is here to see you. She’s causing quite the nuisance here, she’s saying she knows you….that she’s your wife—““Nuisance?!” The woman screamed from the background.He leaned back in his seat upon hearing that familiar voice, a voice he always longed to hear back then.“Se

By noon the next day the internet was on fire.>BREAKING: “LanceCorp trillionaire heir seen in Zurich weakling the rarest suit in the world—only three ever made.Every social media feed, business blog, and gossip page flashed the same photo, a tall man stepping out at a luxury tailor’s boutique, confidence dripping from every inch of his immaculate suit.His wrist watch gleamed under the sun, his posture commanded respect, and though his face is not very much visible, the side profile was unmistakable.Rebecca dropped her phone twice before she was able to open it again.Her pulse hammered as she zoomed in on the image.The beeline. The posture. The paint unmistakable scar on his neck, from when he was a child.Lawrence.She froze on the couch, barely breathing and then— she screamed.“No….no….no, no, no. It can’t be.”Her mother, Stella came running into the living room, fear and concern etched on her face.“What’s wrong? What are you looking at?!”Rebecca didn’t answer, she just con

The mirror he stood before barely recognized him.The man who stared back wasn’t the same Lawrence stiff who once stood under the rain watching his dignity wash off him.Now he wore it.The tailors studio smelled of wealth and fine fabric, with quiet classical music dancing in the air of the studio.The suit wrapped around him like armor, tailored perfectly to his frame, black with a faint graphite sheen.It was only one of the three in the whole world, hand stitched in Italy, and priced higher than the tailor studio itself.He bought two.Because he could.“Very impeccable taste indeed sir,” the tailor said, adjusting his cufflinks.“Mr Lance himself used to order from this line before he passed. Rest his soul. It’s a statement of absolute authority.”Lawrence gave a brief nod, satisfied with what he sees and feels. “Authority is exactly what I need.”When he stepped out of the fitting area, eyes followed him. People moved out of his way without even being asked to, a ripple of resp

When Lawrence entered the office for the first time, it was still.The walls were made of glass, stretching from floor to ceiling, showcasing the magnificent city of Zurich.The desk was sleek, black and spotless. Behind it stood a single framed portrait, the late CEO, Thomas Lance, stared down at him with quiet authority.Lawrence stood there for a long moment, taking everything around him in.So this is the man I’m supposed to be? He thought.He ran his hand through the polished surface of the desk. His reflection looked very different from how it did in his car last night. It was sharper, colder, carried an authoritative font to it.A knock sounded at his door, pulling him out of his trance.“Come in.” He said without looking back.The door opened softly. A woman in her early thirties walked in. She was tall, elegant, with auburn hair perfectly slicked back. Her aura was calm but also somewhat intimidating.“Mr. Stiff.” She said smoothly. “I’m Dr. Evelyn Hart. The company’s psychol

The boardroom was enormous, polished oak wood tables, walls lined with gold plaques and global awards.The air smelled of expensive cologne, power and wealth.Around the table, fifteen board members were seated, all dressed in designer suits.An older man with silver hair and sharp eyes spoke first. "This is the long-awaited heir?" He said in disgust. "He looks like he drives a deadbeat taxi."A few others chuckled.Mr Kent simply cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, may I introduce Mr Lawrence Stiff, the sole heir to Mr Thomas Lance."Lawrence straightened up.Another man, younger this time, but arrogant, leaned forward."Please, Mr Stiff, tell me…do you understand what this company does?"Lawrence's lips twitched. "Not yet, no. But I plan to be better than all those who do nothing but feed off the company."The room went silent.The silver-haired man's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"Lawrence took a careful step forward, placing his hand on the oak wood table. "You think I came all this way