The morning after Majek's public testimony, Lagos didn't just wake up—it roared.
Front pages were flooded with a single image: Majek standing before a crowd, holding up the Lewis-Goriola marriage pact like a war banner. Hashtags trended globally. Think pieces poured in from every direction—"The Fall of SMG," "Love in a Time of Greed," "Heir vs. Heart."
It wasn't just a scandal anymore. It was a movement.
And Mr. Smith Lewis had watched it all unfold in quiet fury.
SMG Headquarters — The War Room
The boardroom had never been so tense. Executives leaned forward in silence as Mr. Lewis paced the room, flanked by two internal lawyers and his long-time crisis strategist, Dr. Hadiza Onalapo.
She wore a crimson power suit, her expression razor-sharp.
"We underestimated Majek," she said, clicking through slides on the projection screen. "He's not just sympathetic—he's becoming symbolic. A David with corporate Goliaths behind him."
"And my daughter?" Mr. Lewis asked, voice tight.
Hadiza hesitated.
"She's gaining traction. Especially with the under-thirty demographic. Women, especially. She's being branded as the 'Heiress Who Said No.'"
He stopped pacing. "Then we hit her where it hurts."
The room froze.
"I want a public forum. A live debate. Me versus Agnes. Let the world see which of us truly understands leadership."
"Sir," Hadiza interjected, "That's not strategic. It's emotional. And if she—"
"I built SMG from the ruins of colonial debt and government betrayal," he snapped. "If she wants to tear it down, she'll have to look me in the eye to do it."
A silence fell.
Then Hadiza nodded slowly. "Then we do it on our terms."
Geneva — A Phone Call and a Challenge
Agnes was halfway through a regional economic report when her assistant, Gisele, entered her suite with a tablet.
"There's been a media request," Gisele said cautiously. "A live international debate. You and your father. Moderated by the World Ethics Forum."
Agnes blinked.
"Is this a joke?"
"It's real. They say it'll be broadcast across twenty countries."
Agnes laughed dryly. "He's finally lost it."
But as she stared at the screen, her laughter faded.
A debate wasn't just spectacle—it was a gauntlet.
It was her father's way of dragging her out of her sanctuary and into the storm.
And yet, she thought, what better way to end this than by meeting him where he lives—on the battlefield of optics and power?
The Decision
Later that evening, she dialed Majek.
He picked up after the second ring. Her heart steadied just hearing his voice.
"They want me to debate him. On live TV. International audience. Scripted moderation. But still brutal."
Majek didn't speak right away.
"You don't have to prove anything," he said finally.
"I know," she replied. "But I want to. I want to show him—and everyone else—that my voice isn't just a reaction to pain. It's a declaration of purpose."
Majek's voice softened. "Then make sure they hear your truth, not just your defiance."
She smiled. "You sound like a leader."
"No," he murmured. "I sound like a man who loves a woman with fire in her chest."
Two Weeks Later — The Forum
The auditorium in Paris was cathedral-like—vaulted ceilings, gilded trim, cameras everywhere. A long semi-circular table was set center-stage. On one end, Mr. Smith Lewis. On the other, Agnes Lewis.
Between them, the moderator: Hélène Bourdin, known worldwide for hosting high-stakes diplomatic negotiations.
The lights dimmed. Cameras rolled. The broadcast began.
Hélène opened calmly, setting ground rules, then turned to Agnes.
"Ms. Lewis, your resignation from SMG and release of family documents have stirred global debate. What was your intent?"
Agnes spoke clearly, chin high. "Truth. Dignity. And the freedom to choose who I am beyond my bloodline."
Mr. Lewis's lips curled into a faint smirk.
"And yet," Hélène continued, "your father claims your departure was a betrayal of generations of sacrifice. Mr. Lewis?"
He leaned forward.
"My daughter has always been intelligent. But intelligence without loyalty is vanity. I did not build SMG to be fashionable. I built it to survive."
Agnes didn't flinch.
"I'm not asking the company to die," she said. "I'm asking it to evolve. You're confusing obedience with legacy."
A ripple moved through the audience.
"And you," she added, looking directly at him, "chose to weaponize our family's story as a mask for control. You claim love weakens leadership. I say love reveals true strength."
The Turning Point
Thirty minutes in, the debate shifted toward the marriage pact.
Hélène brought up the document Majek had revealed.
"Mr. Lewis, why was your daughter's autonomy treated as negotiable in a corporate alliance?"
The silence that followed was heavy.
Mr. Lewis straightened his cuffs.
"My daughter's future was secured by men who loved her—men who understood that unity builds empires."
Agnes interjected sharply.
"I don't need to be secured, Father. I need to be respected."
The audience clapped.
Hélène pressed on. "And what about Majekodunmi Goriola? Was he a threat—or just inconvenient?"
Mr. Lewis hesitated.
And in that hesitation, everything cracked.
"I did what I thought was necessary," he said.
Agnes leaned in.
"You did what was easy," she said, voice trembling. "You silenced him because he didn't bow. But he never tried to steal your empire. He tried to love your daughter."
The silence afterward was thunderous.
After the Debate
Agnes stepped into the quiet of the backstage lounge, her chest rising and falling like she'd run a marathon.
She had said everything. Not perfectly. But truthfully.
Her phone buzzed with messages—journalists, colleagues, strangers from all over the world.
But the one that made her hands shake?
Majek: You were fire. Not just a daughter. A revolution.
She replied: It's time to come home.
Meanwhile — The Collapse Begins
At SMG headquarters, the fallout was immediate.
Stock prices wobbled. Two board members resigned. Internal documents leaked. Whistleblowers surfaced.
Dr. Hadiza Onalapo drafted an emergency transition plan. For the first time in twenty-five years, the company prepared for a leadership change not tied to blood—but to survival.
And Mr. Smith Lewis?
He locked himself in his office, poured a drink, and stared at a photo of Agnes as a child—wide-eyed, full of questions.
He had won so many battles.
But lost the only war that mattered.
The Final Scene — Return
A month later, Agnes stood on Nigerian soil again.
She wore a loose linen dress, no makeup, her hair pulled into a soft bun. There was no convoy. No security. Just the hum of the airport and the weight of return.
Majek waited just beyond arrivals.
When she saw him, she didn't walk.
She ran.
And when he caught her in his arms, there were no words—only tears, laughter, and the rhythm of two hearts that had found each other across oceans and fire.
They stood there for minutes—wrapped in each other.
No empire between them.
No vow but the one they were ready to write themselves.
Together.