The day after the threat, Zaria barely slept.
The photos haunted her. Not just the message, but what it meant—that someone, somewhere in the shadows, feared what she knew. And feared what she was becoming.
It only made her more determined.
Early that morning, a strange number rang her line. She hesitated, then answered.
The voice on the other end was calm, low, and unfamiliar.
"You don't know me, Zaria. But I knew your mother."
Zaria sat upright. "Who is this?"
"My name is Baba Kola. I was Samuel Okonkwo's personal aide. And Nnenna's friend."
Her heart stuttered.
"I have something your mother left behind. Something I believe now belongs to you."
They met at an old bookstore tucked in a quiet corner of Yaba, far from the towers of Victoria Island.
Baba Kola was in his late sixties. Grey-bearded, hunched slightly, but with eyes sharp like a hawk.
He handed her a thin, cloth-bound journal.
"I promised Nnenna I'd only give this to you if danger ever reached your doorstep. She always feared the Okonkwo name would pull you into its fire."
Zaria held the journal delicately, as though it might shatter. Inside were handwritten pages, faded ink, tear stains.
It was her mother's diary.
The first entry read:
"They took my name, my dignity, and my future. But they will not take my child's truth."
Zaria swallowed the lump in her throat and turned the pages carefully. Her mother wrote of her love affair with Samuel Okonkwo, the promises he made and the betrayal that followed.
One entry stood out. Dated shortly after Zaria was born:
"Samuel funneled money into accounts that didn't exist on paper. I overheard him one night speaking of a deal made in exchange for silence. If anything happens to me… it's all hidden under the name Rimek. That's the word he used."
Zaria froze.
Rimek. The same company now exposed by the audit.
She looked up at Baba Kola. "Do you know what this means?"
He nodded grimly. "It means your mother was the first to uncover what Ayo is now trying to bury. And it means they've been doing this for longer than anyone realised."
He paused, then reached into his coat and handed her a flash drive.
"This contains voice recordings. I copied them off the Chief's dictaphone before he died. It took me years to find the courage. But your mother trusted me. Now, I'm trusting you."
Back at the penthouse, Zaria and Darius sat in stunned silence as the audio played.
It was Samuel's voice. Crystal clear.
"If Ayo ever gets too ambitious, the funds from Rimek can be used to shut down his threats. But if the girl—if Nnenna's child—ever returns... well, God help us all."
Zaria shut the laptop.
Tears welled in her eyes, not from pain—but power.
Everything they needed was here.
Proof of decades of corruption. Of betrayal. Of stolen legacy.
And it was her mother—her late, forgotten mother—who had planted the seeds of justice.
That night, Darius took her hand.
"What will you do now?"
Zaria looked at him, eyes blazing with resolve.
"We go to the press. To the shareholders. To the people."
She stood, one hand resting on her belly.
"I'm not hiding anymore. I am Zaria Nnenna Okonkwo. Daughter of truth. Mother of legacy. And I am done being silent."