It began with an email.
Subject line: Global Future Leaders Fellowship – Immediate Offer
Zaria read it twice, then a third time, her breath catching on every word.
The fellowship was a prestigious, once-in-a-generation opportunity. A six-month leadership programme in Geneva—fully funded, offering access to the world's top executives, thought leaders, and innovators.
And they wanted her.
Not to apply.
But to join.
"Your bravery and integrity have redefined leadership. We believe you are the future of African industry—and a global voice for ethical business."
Zaria leaned back on the sofa, one hand instinctively resting on her baby bump.
The timing couldn't be worse.
Or maybe… it was perfect.
Darius was in the kitchen when she told him.
He paused mid-slice, setting the knife gently on the chopping board.
"Switzerland?"
She nodded.
"For how long?"
"Six months. Starting in five weeks."
Darius blinked, calculating. "You'd give birth there."
"Yes," she said quietly. "And the baby would be born a dual citizen. There's a full medical support plan. A private suite. Everything."
He folded his arms. "So what are you thinking?"
Zaria bit her lip. "I don't know. Part of me wants to go. For myself. For the baby. But the other part… I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be alone during all that."
Darius crossed the room and sat beside her.
"You wouldn't be alone," he said. "You're not the only one who's changed, Zaria. I've changed too. I'm not the man who needed everything to be on his terms."
He took her hand gently.
"If you decide to go… I'll go with you."
Her eyes widened. "You would?"
"I love you," he said simply. "Not the idea of you. Not just the strength or the story. I love the late-night conversations. The stubborn way you bite your pen when you're thinking. I love you—pregnant, powerful, vulnerable, tired. All of it."
Tears filled her eyes again.
"I don't want to slow you down," she whispered.
"You won't. You've already carried both of us farther than I ever imagined."
The next morning, they met with Zaria's new legal team.
With the original will now authenticated, her rightful claim to her inheritance was indisputable. Within weeks, she'd be the controlling shareholder of Okonkwo Industries. The board had already begun transitioning leadership under her name.
She stood to become one of the youngest, most powerful female CEOs in Africa.
But she wasn't sure she wanted the throne.
Not yet.
That evening, she walked through her childhood neighbourhood in Surulere—hood up, sunglasses on, just another woman walking through memory.
She passed the spot where she and her mother once sold akara to keep the lights on. The school gate where she was once sent home for unpaid fees. The dusty corners where she learned resilience before she learned arithmetic.
And it hit her then.
This journey wasn't just about reclaiming what was stolen.
It was about choosing what came next.
Back home, she looked at Darius, her voice firm and clear.
"I'm going to Geneva."
He smiled. "We're going to Geneva."
She nodded, already making a list.
"After the fellowship, we'll return. I'll take over the company then—on my terms. With vision, not vengeance."
"And the baby?"
Zaria smiled and pressed her palm to her belly. "Will enter the world as a child of peace—not pain."