Bisi rushed forward, her gele shaking with fury. “You shameless girl! Did you trace us here to beg? We gave you the divorce papers! You signed them! Get out before I have the police throw you into a cell!”
Amara didn’t blink. She walked straight to the head table, where Chief Balogun, the cement tycoon, was now standing up, looking confused.
“Chief Balogun,” Amara said, her voice clear, smooth, and echoing with an authority that made everyone freeze. “I see you are preparing to sign a 5-billion-naira supply partnership with Adewale Transport tonight.”
“Yes,” Chief Balogun said, frowning. “And who exactly are you?”
“I am Amara Okonkwo,” she said simply. “The sole heir of the late Chief Arthur Okonkwo. And the majority shareholder of the bank that currently holds your company’s entire debt portfolio.”
A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom. Chief Balogun’s eyes widened in sheer terror. He knew that name. Everyone knew the Okonkwo family—they were the shadow rulers of the Nigerian economy, an untouchable dynasty.
“Okonkwo?” Bisi scoffed, though her voice vibrated with a sudden, panicked tremor. “Lies! She is a penniless orphan! She washed plates in Yaba!”
Uncle Tunde stepped forward, opening his briefcase and sliding a document onto the table in front of Chief Balogun. “As of 4:15 P.M. today, the anonymous trust that funded Adewale Transport for the last three years has been dissolved. The restaurant chain Miss Okonkwo ‘worked’ at was a shell asset she owned to test her ex-husband’s character. He failed.”
