Imperial Construction's headquarters was alive with restless energy. Engineers crowded around maps of highways, economists debated toll pricing models, and procurement officers argued over brands of heavy machinery. Chinedu walked through the glass-paneled conference hall in measured silence, his presence alone pressing the room into order.
This was no longer theory. Trucks had been ordered. Draft contracts with Chinese suppliers were being translated and scrutinized by lawyers Temilade had personally recommended. Every gear of Imperial Holdings was turning toward the expressway project.
Yet Chinedu wasn't rushing. He believed in laying foundations so deep that even an earthquake of politics could not topple them.
"Prioritize the north-south artery first," he instructed, pointing at the red line inked on the master plan. "That route will open trade between Enugu, Onitsha, and down to Port Harcourt. If they see movement there, no one can argue that Imperial is all talk."
Tunde nodded, scribbling notes. "And for financing?"
Chinedu smiled slightly, almost amused. "Let the banks stew in their own doubts. They'll come when the dust settles."
But dust never stayed still for long.
That same evening, as Chinedu reviewed logistics from his Lagos residence, a wave of calls flooded his phone. First came an old classmate, then a business journalist he barely tolerated. Finally, Ireti forwarded him a breaking headline from her phone.
"UAE Investment Authority Shows Interest in Nigerian Expressway Deal – Sources Cite Imperial Holdings as Anchor Partner."
The article was speculative, padded with anonymous insiders, but the impact was immediate. By midnight, three different banks had sent "urgent requests" to reopen stalled negotiations. The scent of foreign money had flipped the game.
Ireti found him at his desk, expression calm despite the storm. "You knew it would leak?" she asked softly.
"I expected it," Chinedu replied, closing his laptop. "When something this big stirs in silence, someone always whispers. What matters is that the whisper is loud enough to shake the walls."
He stood and gazed out the window toward the distant lights of the city, his jaw set. The UAE's shadow now hung over the project, lending him both power and risk. But inside, he felt steady, rooted. Imperial Construction was no longer an idea. It was an engine in motion, and the noise could no longer be silenced.
Tomorrow, he would face the world again. Tonight, he planned in silence.