The mood in the mansion had shifted.
Though Darius continued to assure her that everything was under control, Zaria couldn't shake the unease creeping into her bones. Something was off. Not just with the media drama—but with him. His eyes, once so direct and open with her, now seemed to carry shadows.
He was protecting something.
But from her?
That evening, while he was at a board meeting, Zaria went into his home office—not to snoop, she told herself, just to look through the printed proposals for the women's foundation.
But as she opened a drawer searching for a file, a thick envelope slipped out. Her name wasn't on it. But the handwriting—elegant, formal—caught her attention.
It was addressed to Mr. Darius Okonkwo from Barrister Dominic Agwu.
Curious now, she opened it.
What she saw made her breath catch.
It was a will.
Not Darius's.
His father's.
Hours later, Darius returned to find Zaria in the study, eyes glassy, envelope open beside her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Darius stopped cold. His face paled.
"How long have you known your father left half his estate to a woman named Anita? And a son—Ayo?"
He shut the door, running a hand over his face. "Zaria…"
"Your father had a second family?" she asked.
He sighed deeply. "It wasn't public. It was… complicated."
"You mean shameful?" she snapped, standing. "You've been parading as the only heir to the Okonkwo empire, but all this time, someone else—your half-brother—has a claim?"
Darius looked at her, and for once, he didn't have a smooth answer.
"He's trying to contest the will, isn't he?"
Darius nodded. "He's building a case, with some help from my father's old enemies. And now with this pregnancy, with your name in the media, they're using you to paint me as unstable. Unfit."
Zaria blinked. "So that's why you were rushing the foundation, the interviews, the image clean-up…"
"Yes," he said quietly. "But that's not the only reason."
"Then tell me."
He walked to her slowly, taking both her hands.
"I'm afraid, Zaria," he confessed. "Not of losing money. Not even of losing control. I'm afraid of losing you. Of being swallowed by my family's darkness. My father built this empire on loyalty and silence. But all it gave him was enemies, hidden children, broken trust."
Zaria stared at him. "And what are you building, Darius?"
He paused. "I want to build truth. With you. But I've never done this before. I don't know how."
Her heart cracked a little at that.
Because for the first time, he wasn't posturing. He wasn't performing. He was just a man—flawed, scared, human.
She sat back down, her hands resting protectively on her belly.
"I need to know that this child won't be dragged into some inheritance war," she said quietly. "I've fought my whole life to build peace."
"I'll protect you both," he vowed.
"No." Her voice was calm but firm. "We'll protect ourselves. I'm not just someone you rescue, Darius. I'm your partner—or I'm nothing."
His eyes softened. "Then partner with me. Help me settle this. Help me figure out how to outsmart my father's ghosts."
Zaria nodded slowly.
She wasn't just carrying a baby anymore.
She was carrying a legacy.
And now, she would help shape the empire it would be born into.