The meeting was set in neutral territory—a quiet garden restaurant in Ikoyi. No press, no security, no family lawyers. Just Zaria and the man Darius had refused to speak of for so long.
Ayo Okonkwo.
He arrived exactly on time.
Tall like Darius, but leaner. His skin was lighter, his features more delicate, but the sharpness in his eyes was unmistakable. Dressed in a crisp kaftan with brown leather sandals, he exuded a quiet, dangerous confidence. The kind that didn't need to announce itself.
"Zaria," he said, with a slow, polite nod. "You're more beautiful than the headlines admit."
"I'm not here for flattery," she replied, gesturing for him to sit.
He chuckled, lowering himself into the seat opposite her. "Then you must be here for the truth."
Zaria took a steady breath. "Darius and I want peace. But we can't have it if the past keeps knocking down our door."
Ayo raised a brow. "Funny. From where I'm standing, you two are the storm."
"I didn't choose Darius's father's secrets," she said evenly. "Neither did you. But now we're here."
He studied her, tapping a finger on the glass of juice the waiter brought.
"You think I want the money," he said after a beat. "The empire. The name. But all I ever wanted was acknowledgment. My mother died with shame tattooed across her heart, while your lover lived in mansions and wore custom suits. We weren't allowed to exist."
"I'm sorry," Zaria said sincerely. "That's not fair. It's cruel."
He looked surprised by her empathy.
"But you need to understand something," she continued. "Darius didn't make those decisions. Your father did. And now, we're the ones left to clean up the mess."
"I want my piece," Ayo said simply. "Not just in court. In truth. I want to be seen. Not hidden in some footnote of the Okonkwo dynasty."
Zaria leaned forward. "Then stop throwing stones at the house we're trying to rebuild. Come inside. Talk. Negotiate. Not through lawyers—but through us."
He stared at her for a long time.
"You believe in Darius that much?"
Zaria smiled faintly. "No. I believe in us. I've survived too much to let inheritance games bury my future."
Ayo's gaze softened for a second. "You're different," he murmured.
Zaria nodded. "And that's why you should work with me. Not against me."
After a long silence, Ayo finally said, "I'll think about it."
He stood and offered her his hand.
As they shook, he added, "But be careful. You may be strong—but the Okonkwo name has a way of turning even the purest heart into stone."
That evening, Darius waited in the lounge, visibly anxious.
"Well?" he asked as soon as she walked in.
Zaria sank into the sofa. "He's angry. But not unreachable."
Darius frowned. "He's not trustworthy."
"He's hurt," she corrected. "You're both products of the same broken legacy, Darius. The only difference is, you had a throne. He had to build his strength in the shadows."
Darius poured himself a drink. "I just don't want you caught in the middle."
Zaria touched her belly gently. "I already am."
He came to her side, kneeling.
"Do you regret it?" he asked suddenly. "Choosing this life. Me."
She looked at him, her expression calm.
"No," she said softly. "I don't regret the fire. Because fire reveals who we really are."
And in that quiet room, surrounded by gold and silence, the weight of truth settled between them—heavy, but unbroken.