It didn't take long for the whispers to start why had she come back?
"Why her?" Chibuzor asked one night, his voice laced with confusion as he looked at his father, who stood staring out the window, his gaze lost in the rain. Mr. Arinze looked down at his son, his eyes dark with exhaustion and regret.
"It's what has to be done, Chibuzor," he murmured, his voice breaking the silence, the words hanging in the air like the shattering of glass.
Months later, after scandal and grief had shaken the family, Mr. Arinze married Ndidi. But the union brought no peace. It was the beginning of yet another chapter of secrets.
Ndidi, once the cherished love of his youth, now wore the crown of stepmother with the grace of a queen, though her eyes were as sharp as any blade.
It wasn't long before Chibuzor and his siblings felt the full weight of Ndidi's ambition. She was a storm in human form, determined to reshape the Arinze legacy to fit her own desires and secure her place within it.
She made moves to run the Arinze empire with Mr. Arinze. Did all she could to bear him male children and convinced him to enshrine her children as heir in the future.
She also started maltreating Chibuzor and his siblings, starving them and ensuring their father barely ever sees them in months.
Her children ran the household when she wasn't around following in her steps to look down on these four siblings who were more or less orphans and deny them of their rights.
Even the servants followed suit in a bid to please the new regime except the loyal ones who tried their best to take care of them.
They would secretly give them food and water. Until the housekeeper who was pretending to be work for Ndidi had had enough. He sent messages to the Arinze relatives, but none of them replied or tried to help.
Old Madam and Old Master were too disappointed in their son so they went into a bit of seclusion.
But finally, whispers of Ndidi's harsh treatment of Chibuzor and his siblings began to reach their grandparents, who had been watching the unfolding drama from the shadows.
One evening, as the house settled into an uneasy silence, Chibuzor found his grandmother standing in the hallway, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she watched him.
"Come with us, Chibuzor," she said quietly, her voice steady, but heavy with grief. "We'll take you and your siblings home."
Chibuzor's heart twisted, guilt surging through him. "What about Father?" he asked, unable to hide the pang of sorrow in his voice.
"Your father has lost his way," she replied, turning her back on the room that had once been filled with laughter and warmth. "But you, you have a chance to rebuild. We will raise you, guide you to become what you are meant to be."
And so, the grandparents moved into the Arinze mansion, claiming their place within its walls, overturning what Mr. Arinze had tried to build.
With unwavering resolve, they had come to preserve the family name they had spent their lives creating. Chibuzor, sharp, loyal, and strong, became their project, their heir, their hope for the future.
But there was a price to be paid. Chibuzor could still remember the cold, grueling nights of training, when his grandfather would sit him down, his gaze intense and unyielding.
"Remember, Chibuzor," his grandfather would say, his voice low and firm, "strength and sacrifice will define you. Never forget who you are and what you're fighting for."
Those words became Chibuzor's mantra, a shield against the past and the turmoil that haunted him. But even as he learned the fine art of leadership, he knew the cost was heavy.
Living in a house where love was overshadowed by ambition sometimes, where trust was a distant memory, he was always reminded of the price of silence, of survival at the expense of others.
Chibuzor had grown up knowing that silence was survival, that victory often meant crushing others beneath your heel. But tonight, as the past resurfaced in whispers and accusations, all he could think of was the true cost of silence and the burden it carried.
Chibuzor had used his grandfather's methods until he gained control and created his own path. Stabbing people in the back was never the best way to go.
At first, his grandfather protested but later agreed with him as he grew older and saw how worthless such methods were.
Chibuzor stood frozen as he thought of all these things. The past was always with him, like a shadow that never let go. Now, standing in the grand ballroom with eyes fixed upon him, he could feel it creep back in, suffocating him, reminding him of a part of himself he could never escape.
The scandal that had torn his family apart had returned. And its echoes would shape everything that came next.
It was not just Chibuzor who felt the weight of it. His siblings, his grandparents, all shared the painful memory. Mr. Arinze sat with his head bowed in shame mixed with guilt, while Ndidi, shocked and stunned, stared ahead. This was not how she had planned things. How had it all backfired so quickly?
The atmosphere in the ballroom crackled with tension, the air heavy with an impending storm. Chibuzor's second uncle, Chetachukwu, seized the moment to voice his opinion, leaning toward his eldest son but ensuring his words were loud enough to be overheard by the entire room.
"When I told your grandfather that my elder brother and his children couldn't handle such responsibility, he refused to listen," Chetachukwu murmured, his voice dripping with disdain. "He insisted on handing it all over to that... boy, Chibuzor. Now look at the mess we're in."
By the time the last word left his lips, a silence swept through the hall. Guests exchanged glances, their eyes wide with scandalized curiosity. Chetachukwu rose from his seat, his righteous indignation palpable as he approached Old Master Arinze, the room's gaze now fully fixed upon him.