16/08/2025
This is the story of a homeless girl and a billionaire. One was little and cold. The other had everything money could buy. But one rainy evening in Anugu, their lives crossed path in a way no one expected. Their love story will make you c*y. If you’re just tuning into this page for the first time please follow.
Give this story a thumbs up. It means a lot to us. Kamar stood there in the rain, her thin dress soaking wet. She had no shoes, no jacket, no one. She walked slowly down the road, cold, hungry, and alone. She found a wooden bench and curled under it, shaking. “Mama, if you’re in heaven,” she whispered. “Please don’t forget me.
” And as the rain poured harder, the little girl closed her eyes and prayed for the first time in her life that someone would come, someone who wouldn’t throw her away. A black Range Rover came slowly down the road. The headlights cut through the darkness. Inside the car sat Jason Obidik, a 30-year-old billionaire from a royal family in Lagos and was returning to the city with his fianceé Kioma, who sat beside him scrolling through her phone.
“It’s too late to be driving,” Kioma complained. “Can’t we sleep in a hotel?” Jason didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on something by the roadside. “Stop the car,” he said to the driver. Jason opened the door and stepped out, walking into the rain. “Jason!” Chioma shouted. “What are you doing?” Jason didn’t answer.
He moved closer to the bench and saw her, a little girl, soaked, shaking, with her tiny legs tucked under her body. Hey little one,” he said gently. Kamar opened her eyes slowly. “Please don’t beat me,” she whispered. “I didn’t take the bread.” Jason’s heart broke. “No one will beat you,” he said. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her.
Then he picked her up in his arms. “She’s freezing,” he muttered. “Let’s go.” “What, Jason? Are you mad?” Kioma shouted. That girl is dirty and sick. Let the police handle it. She’s a child, Kioma, he snapped. If I leave her here, she’ll die. Kioma folded her arms and hissed. Jason climbed into the car, holding Kamar close.
She rested her head on his chest and sighed like she hadn’t breathed in years. That night, the rain continued to fall. But for the first time in Kamar’s life, someone had stopped. Someone had chosen to carry her. Jason’s mansion in Enugu was quiet when they arrived. It was nearly midnight and the rain still whispered outside.
“Mama Nenna,” Jason called as he carried Kamar inside. His longtime housekeeper came rushing down the stairs, tying her wrapper. “Sir Jason, what happened?” she asked, shocked to see the soaked girl in his arms. Bring hot water, towels, clean clothes, please, he said, walking toward the guest room. Mama Nenna returned quickly with warm water and a soft wrapper.
Who is she, sir? She’s someone I couldn’t leave behind, Jason said. After a warm bath in a bowl of hot rice, Kamar lay quietly in the soft bed. Her eyes moved around the big room. She had never seen such clean white sheets before or smelled such nice soap. Jason sat by her bed. “Are you comfortable?” he asked softly. Camar nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.
