The storm that followed the expressway announcement refused to settle.
Editorials debated the legality of toll-based private highways. Rivals whispered that Chinedu was becoming "too close to power." An investigative journalist even ran a two-part special, trying to pin down his true net worth, connecting Imperial Holdings' sprawling ventures with estimates that put him in the same breath as Nigeria's long-established moguls.
For the first time, Chinedu felt the weight of eyes that didn't merely watch, but judged. Old money elites, veterans of oil and cement, began to probe quietly, their networks sniffing for weaknesses.
"Make no mistake," Tunde said as they reviewed yet another article in the office lounge, "you've moved from promising upstart to rival. They'll test your foundations now. Not just your businesses — your alliances, your resolve."
Ireti added gently, "And your silence won't always shield you. Sometimes you'll have to answer."
Chinedu only smiled faintly. "When I answer, it will be in a language they understand — results."
That language arrived sooner than expected.
Late one evening, a message came through his private secretary — an invitation from Aliko Dangote himself. The northern tycoon had read reports of Imperial Farms' ambitious expansions and heard whispers about Ireti's proposal for greenhouse farming in the north. Dangote wanted to meet.
The meeting took place in Abuja, discreet but decisive. Dangote spoke with calm gravitas, the kind of voice that came from decades of bending industries to his will.
"You've built something rare, Obasi," he said, eyes sharp. "Integration. Farms that feed processing. Processing that feeds malls. Oil and real estate tied into transport and construction. It is not luck — it is vision. And vision deserves scale."
Chinedu listened carefully as the billionaire leaned forward.
"The north is fertile but fractured. Security is a problem, yes. But with greenhouses, with science, with courage — it is a frontier waiting to be claimed. I hear you already dream of it. What if we did it together? You bring the innovation. I bring scale, supply chains, and the kind of weight that keeps trouble away. The north could feed the continent if we shape it right."
For a long moment, Chinedu said nothing. He thought of Ireti's passion, of her conviction that glasshouses could transform the harsh climate. He thought of the risks, the terrorists, the politics. And then he thought of the name on the invitation: Dangote. A man no governor or minister could ignore.
"This," Chinedu finally said, voice steady, "is the kind of partnership that doesn't just expand Imperial — it shields it."
Dangote smiled, slow and deliberate. "Then let's test the soil together."
By the time Chinedu returned to Enugu, the winds of the north were already stirring. Partnerships were forming, alliances weaving themselves around him. The hawks were circling — but now, one of the strongest had chosen to perch at his side.
And Chinedu, pragmatic as ever, knew what that meant. Imperial Holdings was no longer simply a rising conglomerate. It was now a player in the great game of Nigerian power — north, east, and soon, west.