News of Mr. Bankole's arrest and the heroic rescue of Tade Adebanjo's son flew through Lagos.
A whole Senator , dragged to the mud.
It was a scandal turned miracle.
The public, who had been so quick to condemn Tade, now turned on Mr. Bankole and Aisha.
Headlines that once screamed of a "secret love child" now reported on a "ruthless Senator's cruel plot."
Aisha, in a state of complete breakdown after hearing of her father's failure and arrest, was rushed to the hospital, her public fall from grace as spectacular as her previous attempts to claw her way to the top.
The whispers at Ade's Oil and Gas were no longer malicious. Employees gossiped about Mr. Bankole's wickedness and prayed for Tade to win the court case, their support for their CEO unwavering once again.
***
At the hospital, the room was quiet save for the rhythmic beeping of monitors.
Victor, now in a small bed of his own, was finally sleeping peacefully.
Anwana and Tade sat on a sofa nearby, their hands clasped together, their minds a whirlwind of emotion.
The terrifying ordeal was over, but the quiet conversations were just beginning.
"How do we tell him?" Anwana whispered, her voice barely audible.
"He's been through so much.
How do we tell him that the man he calls 'Uncle Tade' is his father?"
Tade ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed with concern.
"We tell him when he's ready. We have to be honest, but we have to be gentle. He's a smart boy, he'll understand. And he'll know he's loved by two people now, not just one."
A soft knock on the door interrupted them.
Miss Remi, Tade's mother, walked in, her arms laden with gift bags.
Her face, usually so composed, was soft with emotion.
She looked at the small figure in the hospital bed, a child she had once cruelly dismissed.
A child she had unknowingly wronged.
"My dear," she said, her voice trembling as she turned to Anwana.
"I came to apologize again. Not just for my actions with Aisha, but for my foolishness. I should have seen what was in front of me. I should have seen the kind of person you are."
She walked to the bed, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at her grandson.
"To think I once insulted this child's birth," she said, her voice filled with a profound sense of regret.
"I'm so sorry, Anwana."
Anwana, touched by the sincerity of her apology, reached out and hugged her.
"It's okay, ma'am. We've been through so much, we can't hold on to the past."
Remi handed them the gifts, her eyes twinkling.
"So, when are you two getting married? I've already called a planner."
Tade laughed, a genuine, joyful sound that hadn't left his lips in weeks.
"Mum, can we at least get the boy home first?"
"Nonsense!" she said playfully.
"You need to make this official. You have a family to protect now, son. Make it legal."
She gave Anwana a warm hug, kissed Tade on the cheek, and left, leaving a trail of love and hope in her wake.
***
That evening, Tade and Anwana returned to his house.
They sat on the living room sofa, the silence between them no longer one of fear but of contentment.
The television was on, a low hum in the background, but their focus was entirely on each other.
"My mum is right, you know," Tade said softly, breaking the silence.
"We should talk about the wedding. We've been through a lot. We deserve to be happy."
He took her hand, his thumb stroking her palm.
Anwana's heart fluttered.
"I know. It's just... I can't think about anything until Victor is completely well."
"I know," Tade said, leaning in and gently kissing her.
The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a silent promise. The exhaustion, the stress, the fear of the last few weeks—it all melted away in that one simple touch.
He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the small of her back, pulling her closer.
The intimacy was electric, a raw, powerful connection that had been tested and hardened by fire.
Just as the moment was about to escalate, Tade pulled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He looked at Anwana, his eyes a mix of desire and something else—a deep-seated resolve.
He remembered the promise he had made.
The vow of a gentleman.
The man who wouldn't touch his woman until they were married.
"If you really want this," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion,
"let's speed up the marriage process." He was willing to do anything to make her his, to make them a family, to make their love story official, and to ensure that no one could e
ver question their right to be together again.
He was tired of games.
He was ready for forever.