Six months later, Ronke was jailed and sentenced to life imprisonment. How did it come to this? Let's rewind and uncover the chain of events.
During those six months, a lot had unfolded. Damian and Bummi had returned to Nigeria. Charlotte, on the other hand, was locked away in a London prison, serving a fifteen-year sentence for attempting to kill someone—worse, a pregnant woman.
But Ronke's story took the darkest turn of all.
One evening, she summoned a family meeting. Everyone was there: her husband Kunle, her sons, her sisters, her sisters-in-law, her cousins, her in-laws, her close friend Yemisi, even distant relatives. The sons had hesitated to come at first, but only did so after Kunle pleaded with them.
When the room was full and silent, Ronke took a shaky breath. Her fingers fidgeted nervously as she prepared to speak.
"I… I have something important to say," she began.
Most of them weren't paying her much attention. Darin was busy chuckling at messages from his wife. Dayo scrolled through endless work emails. Damian half-listened, but his mind was on the London photos of himself and Bummi. The rest of the family, however, leaned in.
Then Ronke dropped the bomb.
"I… I killed Adesua."
The room erupted. Gasps filled the air. Even her sons, who had barely been listening, froze.
"What?" Darin narrowed his eyes. "You did what?"
Any ordinary person might have broken down under such scrutiny, but Ronke—burdened by guilt—forced herself to continue. Her conscience, heavy as iron, allowed no retreat.
"I poisoned her," she confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And I plotted the scheme that broke my son's marriage. Felix."
Silence crashed over the room.
She lifted her eyes, trembling, and met Dayo's gaze. His look was a storm of disbelief, hurt, anger, hatred, disgust—emotions she couldn't even name.
"Yes, Felix," she whispered. "I'm sorry. Adira is innocent. I framed her… using her twin sister. I knew they were identical, that you wouldn't tell them apart. I was foolish. I'm so, so sorry."
Dayo shot to his feet, rage burning through him. "You did what? So it was you all along? You—my own mother—are the genesis of every pain I've suffered? You tricked me into thinking Adira betrayed me? You destroyed my marriage?" His voice broke. "Have I ever wronged you? Ever failed you as your son?"
Ronke shook her head frantically, choking on her sobs. "No! No, Felix, you've always been the best son any mother could dream of. I don't know what came over me. It was the handwork of the devil—"
"Don't you dare!" Dayo roared, his fury trembling in the air. "Don't you dare blame the devil for what you chose to do."
His best friend, Raymond Okafor, rose and placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering, "Hey, nna eh… calm down, please."
"Calm down?" Dayo shot him a glare. "Didn't you hear her?"
Even Kunle sat frozen, unable to believe what he was hearing. The entire room was still, like an audience entranced by a tragic play.
And then, as if the confession wasn't enough, Ronke shattered what little was left.
"I… I cheated on my husband," she whispered, "so he could win the presidential election. I wanted to be First Lady."
The room shook with gasps.
"Jesus Christ!"
"My God!"
"What abomination is this?"
"Ronke!?" Kunle leapt to his feet, eyes and mouth wide open in horror. "What did you just say?"
Damian's voice cut in, sharp as a knife. "Mom? You cheated on dad? After destroying brother Dayo's marriage? After killing Adesua? Who even are you?"
Kunle's face was pale with disbelief. "Wait. Wait, I need to hear this straight. You slept with another man while married to me?" His voice cracked. "Tell me I misheard."
Ronke buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "I only wanted to help you. To give you power. To make you president."
Kunle let out a bitter laugh. "Power? Position? So who was it?"
When she hesitated, he snapped. "Tell me now, woman!" His hand struck her across the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. "Who was he?"
Finally, broken, she whispered, "The late commissioner of police. Lagos State. I swear, it only happened once."
Kunle staggered back as if struck by lightning. "Ronke… you mean the same man who colluded with Safari to kill Darin in South Africa? You laid with that bastard while married to me?" He clutched his head. "God, my heart!"
Damian shook his head in disgust. "So this is you. The mother I thought I knew is nothing but a stranger."
Darin rose, voice sharp at Damian. "Mother? You dare call her that? After this? I don't see a mother. I see a liar, a killer, a cheat." His words lashed out. "Having you as a mother was the greatest mistake of my life. Today is the last time I'll ever use that word on you. You're a disgrace!" With that, he stormed out, slamming the door.
"Damilola!" She cried Darin's native name.
"Don't you dare speak my name again," he had spat before leaving.
Damian followed. "You are the biggest disappointment of my life. Go to hell and rot in your sins."
"No…" Ronke wept.
"I pray you rot before you die," Damian hissed, walking away.
Dayo remained. His silence was heavier than words. His eyes burned with a quiet violence, but he only picked up his phone and walked out, Raymond trailing him.
The relatives murmured, unsettled, before slipping away one by one.
Kunle stood there, trembling. His chest heaved as he pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the police."
Ronke collapsed at his feet, clutching his leg. "My love, please! Forgive me!"
But Kunle's heart had turned to stone. "No, Ronke. You've crossed the final line. Consider this marriage over. I'll call my lawyers tomorrow."
Within ten minutes, the police arrived. Ronke was taken away in handcuffs.
Two months later, peace returned like sunlight after a storm. The Ayomide family breathed again. No more chaos, no more secrets, only calm.
During that time, Damian and Bummi married in a grand ceremony. The world celebrated the union—the paparazzi hailed her as the "lucky woman who won the heart of one of the world's most eligible bachelors." Social media overflowed with blessings. Her company promoted her to Chief Editor and gave her long leave.
After their honeymoon in Bora Bora, they returned home. One afternoon, Damian entered their bedroom only to find Bummi balancing on a chair, hanging their honeymoon photos beside the wedding frames.
"Holy mother of Jesus!" He rushed forward, scooping her into his arms. "Are you trying to kill me?"
She frowned, confused. "Kill you? I was just fixing pictures."
"You're nine months pregnant," he scolded gently, setting her down. "Do you know what could happen if you fell?"
She sighed. "Okay, Mr. Panic. Next time I'll call you."
He chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Good." His gaze softened as he looked at the frames. "You know what I see?"
"What?" she asked, smiling.
"Forever. Eternity with you."
Their lips met, a kiss deepening until a voice broke the moment.
"Mommy, have you seen da—woah!" Nifemi froze at the door, eyes wide. He shut it quickly. "Sorry!"
Damian smirked, amused, then let the boy in. "It's okay, Liam. You can come in."
Nifemi, though familiar with Bummi, always feared his father's sternness.
He hesitated, scratching his head. "Um, daddy… I need your approval for something. My coach wants me to join a global soccer match in Paris next month."
Damian raised a brow. "Is that all? Liam, you don't need my permission to chase your dreams. But—" his voice firmed, "—stay away from drugs, girls, and trouble. Make me proud."
Nifemi's face lit up. "Thank you, daddy!" He hugged him tight. He is now as tall as Damian. Sharing same towering height with his father.
After Liam left the room, Bummi disagreed. "Damian! You're encouraging him? Football? No! He should study business, not run around a field!"
Damian only smiled. "Pearl, whenever I see him, I see myself. I once dreamed of being a footballer. My father killed that dream. I won't do the same to our son."
Bummi was left speechless, staring at the conviction in his eyes.
Meanwhile, in the Ayomide mansion, Kunle sat in his study reviewing files when a pack of noisy children barged in, wrecking everything in sight. Books fell, figurines broke, wine spilled.
"What the—who are you kids?" Kunle shouted, furious.
Then a woman rushed in, gathering them with gentle scolds. One of the kids called him grandpa.
Kunle froze. Grandpa?
Before he could demand answers, the door opened again—and Darin walked in. Calm, yet certain.
"Dad," he said, steady, "these are my children. And that's my wife."
Kunle's world stopped. "Your… what? How? When?"
Darin explained everything—how he'd hidden his family during the storm of politics and chaos.
Kunle's eyes filled with tears. "All these years… and you didn't tell me?"
"It wasn't the right time," Darin admitted softly.
Kunle looked at the children—innocent faces, eyes wide with hope. Slowly, he bent down, gathering them into his arms. "My grandchildren," he whispered, voice breaking.
Finally, he turned to the woman and embraced her warmly. "Thank you," he said with all his heart.
And for the first time in a long while, joy returned to the Ayomide mansion.