The family fell into a charged silence. The once confident Ifeoma felt a flicker of doubt, her anger ebbing as she realized she was outmatched, not just by Olaedo's words, but by the disappointment etched into every face.
Later that night, Chibuzor sat at his desk, fingers drumming against the polished wood. The confrontation replayed in his mind, but there was something else gnawing at him. A fear he wasn't willing to admit out loud.
'If Maduabuchi's message had not come from the house.....would she have gone with him?'
The question lodged in his mind, refusing to leave. He stood up, pacing, eyes cast toward the closed door to their room where Olaedo stayed. 'Would she stay for the sake of our contract, or would her past lure her away from me?'
"Why does this matter so much to me?" Chibuzor muttered to himself, the silence of the house swallowing his words.
---
The next morning, the family gathered in the dining room, the air thick with unspoken words. Chibuzor was absent, having secluded himself in his study, but the tension was palpable.
Ndidi, frowning, but still dancing happily in her heart, broke the silence. "It's not like Chibuzor to react so harshly. But Ifeoma, you've pushed him beyond what he can bear."
Ifeoma crossed her arms, refusing to show any vulnerability. "And what about Olaedo? You're all ready to believe her over me."
Old Master leaned forward, his eyes meeting Ifeoma's. "Olaedo has shown she deserves respect. You, on the other hand, have shown you need to learn consequences."
Ifeoma bit her lip, the hurt stinging behind her defiance. But her eyes drifted to the hallway, where the silence loomed like a warning. The family's reprimands felt like a hammer, chipping away at her stubborn facade.
Upstairs, Olaedo stood at the window in her room, staring out at the garden, specifically the household's award winning flowers, gnawing over the secrets she carried deep in her heart.
'I can't believe I entertained the thought of getting back together with Maduabuchi.' She sighed in realisation 'My Mom was right.....I'm not over him yet. I need to work on myself!'
Her fingers clenched at her sides as she thought of Chibuzor and how his unspoken concern had revealed itself during their dinner confrontation.
'Did he really care? Or was it just a matter of pride and maintaining his image as the head of the family?'
A soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She opened it to find Adanna standing there, a look of worry on her face.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Adanna said quietly. "I didn't think Ifeoma would go that far."
Olaedo gave a small, weary smile. "It's okay. It's just one more obstacle, isn't it? We'll find a way past it."
Adanna's eyes softened, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I believe you can since you guys love each other. And I think Chibuzor… he'll see that, too."
Olaedo's eyes met Adanna's, hope sparking in the depths of them, even as doubt whispered in the corners of her mind.
But the question remained, 'When the next storm came, would they all weather it together, or would they be torn apart by their own choices?'
Clock ticking to the annual family ball.
The Arinze estate was a hive of activity, buzzing with an air of anticipation and controlled chaos. Servants scurried about, laden with fresh bouquets, crystal glassware, and polished silver trays.
Seamstresses adjusted hems and stitched final embellishments onto extravagant gowns in one corner, while chefs debated over the correct plating for hors d'oeuvres in another.
In the grand sitting room, Adanna and Ifeoma sat stiffly on a velvet sofa, watching their grandfather as he examined the final guest list with a stern gaze. His booming voice filled the room.
"Adanna, the ambassador's family is still waiting for a response to their RSVP. I don't want any lapses this year!"
"Yes, Father," Adanna replied, her tone as poised as her immaculate posture.
Ifeoma, meanwhile, fidgeted with the hem of her designer dress. "This is so boring," she thought. "Why do we have to sit through this?"
The tension thickened as their grandmother swept into the room. Old Madam, the formidable matriarch, carried an air of authority that silenced everyone instantly. Her sharp eyes scanned the arrangements.
"Where is Chibuzor? He should be here to finalize his responsibilities for tomorrow," she demanded.
Chibuzor, ever punctual, appeared just then, his usual calm demeanor in place. "I'm here, Grandmother," he said curtly, ignoring Ifeoma's exaggerated eye-roll.
Old Madam nodded approvingly. "Good. This year's ball must surpass all others. Remember, this is not just a party. It is the Arinze family's way of reminding everyone of our influence and legacy."
Olaedo entered the scene hesitantly, her face calm but her heart pounding. She had only been a part of this household for a few months and still felt out of place during these high-stakes moments.
"Ah, there you are, Olaedo," Old Madam said, her sharp tone softening slightly. "You will greet our foreign guests tomorrow, especially the business delegation. Your grace and intelligence will leave an impression."
Olaedo smiled politely, but inside, she was panicking. 'Me? Represent the Arinze family to foreign dignitaries? This is way out of my league!'
It wasn't that she had no experience in communicating with big shots, that was a walk in the park, but the big shots coming tomorrow were on a higher level since they were affiliated with the top aristocratic family in the country.
Before she could protest, Ifeoma chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yes, let's send the new bride to handle our most important guests. What could possibly go wrong?"
Olaedo's jaw tightened, but she forced a diplomatic smile. "I'll do my best, Grandmother." Internally, she scheduled time for research and improvement of her skills to a higher level, an aristocratic family level.
Adanna shot her younger sister a warning glance. "Ifeoma, enough. Everyone here has their role to play."
Old Madam clapped her hands sharply. "Focus, everyone! We have more pressing issues. Where's Chukwudubem? Who is responsible for the seating chart?"
As the meeting adjourned, Chibuzor lingered behind with Olaedo. His voice was low, almost too casual. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
Olaedo looked at him, surprised by his attempt at small talk. "A little," she admitted. "I don't want to embarrass the family."
He gave a nonchalant shrug but didn't meet her eyes. "You won't. Just... don't overthink it."
'Is he... trying to reassure me?' she wondered, puzzled. 'Maybe he's not as cold as he seems.'
Meanwhile, Ifeoma was scheming in her room. "Why does she always get to be the center of attention?" she muttered, pacing. "Tomorrow, I'll make sure everyone sees her for what she really is, an outsider!"
Downstairs in the kitchen, the head chef had reached his limit. "Where is the fresh lobster?" he bellowed, sending an assistant scurrying.
One of the maids whispered to another, "Last year, the chef quit right before the ball. Let's hope he doesn't explode again!"
In the garden, a group of gardeners argued over whether to use roses or lilies for the centerpiece fountain. "The lilies are too common!" one of them shouted.
"Common? I'll show you common!" another retorted, brandishing a pruning shears.
The chaos reached its peak when a shipment of champagne turned out to be the wrong vintage. Mr. Arinze's face turned red as he roared into the phone, demanding an immediate replacement.
Late in the evening, the house finally quieted down. Olaedo sat in her room, staring at the elaborate gown laid out for her. Her thoughts drifted to the expectations on her shoulders. "Can I really pull this off? Will they ever see me as one of them?"
In his study, Chibuzor looked over some documents but found himself distracted. "Why did she look so worried? She's smart enough to handle those guests. But what if she messes up? No.....she won't." He frowned, frustrated with himself.
Elsewhere, Ifeoma smiled to herself as she finalized her look. "I am going to steal all the attention tomorrow," she whispered.
In another part of the Mansion, Lady Ndidi, the second wife of Mr. Arinze and stepmother to Chibuzor and his siblings, sat in her private sitting room. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped rhythmically on the armrest of her chair as her lips curved into a sly smile.
Across from her sat her loyal confidante, Ngozi, a woman with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind.
"The preparations for tomorrow are in full swing," Ngozi reported, sipping tea with calculated poise. "The house looks splendid, and everyone seems to be focused on ensuring the ball is perfect."
Lady Ndidi chuckled softly, a sound that carried no warmth. "Perfect for them, perhaps. But I have other plans."
Ngozi leaned in, her interest piqued. "And these plans... they involve her, don't they?"
"Who else?" Lady Ndidi's voice was a whisper laced with venom. "Olaedo, the so called bride of my stepson. That girl has been parading around this house like she belongs here. Tomorrow, I'll remind her, and everyone else, that she doesn't."