At noon, Cynthia-Rose arrived at Chief Fredrick Mba's house. The gate opened for her without questions, without hesitation, and that small detail made her stomach twist. She stepped out slowly, her bag hanging from her shoulder, heart racing, trying to steady herself. This was the day she would make a choice, one word that could change everything.
Inside, the house was calm in the way rich houses often are. Everything was in place, quiet, controlled. A housemaid led her to the sitting room and left without a word. Chief Fredrick Mba was standing by the window, looking out at Lagos, but when he turned, he acknowledged her with a nod.
"You came" he said.
"I said I would" she replied.
Her voice sounded steady, but her hands betrayed her nerves. She folded them together in her lap.
He gestured to the seat opposite him. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No" she said quickly. "Let's just talk."
He studied her silently for a moment before speaking. "You look tired."
"I am," she admitted. "Tired of thinking, tired of trying to hold everything together."
"That's understandable" he said calmly. "Thinking doesn't change facts, though."
She frowned. "And what facts are those?"
He didn't rush to answer. "Your mother is unwell, and your brother's future depends on stability. You are carrying responsibilities too heavy for someone your age, and time is not on your side."
She felt the truth of it hit her like a punch. "So this is the part where you tell me I need you."
"No" he said. "This is the part where you decide whether you want help or pride."
Her jaw tightened. "You make it sound simple."
"It is simple" he replied. "But it is not easy."
The silence between them grew heavy. Cynthia-Rose stared at the polished floor, her reflection faint beneath her feet. "If I say yes" she asked slowly, "what exactly am I agreeing to?"
"To a marriage" he said. "Publicly protected and comfortable. Your family will be secure, your worries reduced, and your life stabilized."
"And what do you get?" she asked, her voice low.
He met her gaze steadily. "Companionship, loyalty, and peace."
She laughed softly, bitterly. "That's a clean way to say ownership."
"I don't own anyone" he said. "I invest in stability."
"You talk as if feelings don't matter," she said.
"They do," he admitted. "That's why I don't pretend this will start with love."
She blinked. "So love isn't part of the deal?"
"No," he said. "Not yet. But honesty is."
Cynthia-Rose exhaled slowly. She thought of her mother's illness, her brother's future, the flat that always seemed to be one bill away from disaster. She looked at him and realized that saying yes wasn't about him.it was about survival, for everyone she loved.
"Then I say yes," she whispered, almost to herself.
He nodded, calm as ever. "Then we understand each other. Everything else will follow."
The room was quiet, but outside, Lagos buzzed on as if nothing had changed. Inside, Cynthia-Rose felt the weight of her decision settle on her chest. She had chosen safety over freedom, stability over choice, and in doing so, she had stepped into a life she didn't yet understand.
Later that evening, she attended a private dinner where Chief Fredrick Mba introduced her as his fiancée. Guests' eyes followed her. Smiles hid curiosity. Conversations paused. Applause came, but inside, she felt a strange mix of pride and fear.
Alone later in his guest room, Cynthia-Rose sat by the window and stared at the city lights. Messages and congratulations buzzed on her phone, but she ignored them. Lagos had already begun watching, and now there was no turning back.
She whispered softly to herself, "I've said yes. But at what cost?"
And somewhere, Chief Fredrick Mba watched silently, knowing that once a woman agrees under pressure, every move after is part of the game.