The ink on the healthcare supply contract was barely dry when Chinedu stepped into the private lounge of the governor's guesthouse. This was not the State House—too many eyes and too many ears there.
The governor didn't waste time.
"The airline's board is fractured," he said, sliding a thin folder across the table. "One faction wants out, the other wants control. If you can put down the full amount in ten days, I can clear the political air for you.
Chinedu opened the file. Routes across West Africa, cargo bays unused for years, maintenance hangars in Port Harcourt, Abuja, and a small one in Accra. To most, it looked like a rusting liability. To him, it was the missing artery for his empire—one that could pump goods, passengers, and influence across borders.
"I'm not here for scraps," Chinedu said quietly. "I'll take the lot."
In Lagos, Temilade's law seniors were already drafting the Imperial Holdings charter. Her voice over the phone was brisk but excited:
"This will make everything clean. Imperial Farms, Imperial Transport, Imperial Processing, and now… Imperial Air. You'll own them all under one roof."
She didn't need to add the other truth—once Imperial Holdings existed, Chinedu would be more than a businessman. He'd be a player in the league of Nigerian conglomerates that could negotiate with governments as equals.
The money came from three veins: the long-term bets that had finally matured, a portion of his commodity futures gains, and a discreet bank loan the governor's office quietly guaranteed. By the eighth day, the airline's shares were signed over.
The competitor price war in food processing was still ongoing, but Chinedu barely flinched. Imperial Processing would hold its ground; the airline was a longer game. He could now fly Imperial products into markets his rivals could only truck into, and carry passengers where demand was rising faster than supply.
On the morning of the official takeover, Chinedu stood at the tarmac of the Port Harcourt hangar. A faded aircraft in the company's old livery taxied in slowly. Ireti, standing beside him, tilted her head.
"Ugly bird," she muttered.
"Not for long," Chinedu said. "By next year, this bird will be landing in London."
He meant it. For the first time, his vision wasn't just national—it was continental, even global. Imperial Holdings would not stop at farms, trucks, and stores. It would fly.