Chapter 6 The Deal of Bloodlines

The Owolabi family estate in Ikoyi was a fortress of old money and quiet power where legacies were negotiated over wine and marriages were inked like business contracts.

In the vast sitting room with ivory walls and mahogany chairs, the air buzzed with whispers and hushed excitement. A long table had been set for a private family gathering. Tunde's parents Chief and Lady Owolabi sat at the head, regal in their native agbada and lace. Their expressions were unreadable.

Seated next to them were the Okonkwos.

Chief Okonkwo wore his most expensive agbada, a smug smile painted across his face. Mama Okonkwo gleamed in heavy coral beads and pride. And beside them sat Amara, draped in a flowing emerald gown that shimmered with every movement.

She looked like a bride already.

She tossed her hair back dramatically and laughed loudly at a comment from Tunde's uncle. "I can't wait to be called Mrs. Owolabi," she said, her eyes glinting with ambition. "It has such a powerful ring to it, doesn't it?"

Everyone chuckled.

"Well, Tunde is a lucky man," Chief Owolabi said stiffly, though something about his tone was forced.

Lady Owolabi nodded. "He'll return tomorrow from Singapore. We'll make the announcement at his welcome dinner."

Amara blushed and batted her lashes. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled. Who wouldn't want an educated, well-bred, and beautiful woman like me as his wife?"

Mama Okonkwo beamed. "Our Amara has been trained for this. She studied in London, attended etiquette classes, speaks French fluently. She'll be the perfect wife for a man of Tunde's caliber."

Chief Okonkwo raised his glass. "To a union that will strengthen our legacy."

Everyone raised their glasses except one.

Tunde's younger sister, Dami, sat silently at the far end of the table, her face stiff with unease. She had seen her brother with Chizaram. The way he looked at her. Protected her. Chose her. There was no way he had agreed to this marriage. No way.

But she stayed quiet. For now.

Amara leaned back and sighed like a queen on her throne. "I've already picked out a color scheme for the wedding," she said. "Champagne gold. And I've called a photographer from Paris."

Dami could take no more.

"I don't think Tunde knows about this arrangement," she said bluntly.

The room fell quiet.

Chief Owolabi cleared his throat. "It's not necessary for him to know until we've finalized the terms. He's been too... distracted lately."

"With that girl," Lady Owolabi said sharply. "That girl with no pedigree. We won't let her drag our family name into the mud."

Amara smirked. "Don't worry. Once I'm in his house, she'll be forgotten."

Dami stood. "He's not a prize you just claim because it suits a contract. He's a man. And he's in love."

Amara's eyes darkened. "With a cleaner's girlfriend? Please. Tunde will come to his senses once I'm wearing his last name."

"You'll be wearing disappointment," Dami muttered under her breath as she walked away.

The room went back to its polished pretense, but something hung in the air now uncertainty, perhaps even doom.

Because miles away, in a hotel suite in Singapore, Tunde Owolabi was finalizing the biggest international deal of his life and already designing an engagement ring worthy of Chizaram.

And soon, he would return.

Not to a celebration, but a storm.