The other woman, however, wasn't impressed. "Fine! Let this imposter stay for now. Someone smarter will expose her soon enough!"
Before Olaedo could retort, a voice colder than ice sliced through the air.
"If you knew who you were speaking to, you'd be the one saving face."
The crowd turned to see Chibuzor, his piercing gaze locking onto Amaka. He had appeared as silently as a shadow, yet his presence was thunderous.
"C-CEO Chibuzor!" Amaka stammered, taking a step back instinctively.
"Words have weight. I suggest you think before speaking next time," he said, his tone unreadable but heavy with authority. Then, without sparing her another glance, he turned to Olaedo. His voice softened, but just slightly. "We're ready for you to join us inside."
Olaedo met his eyes, her composure unshaken, and allowed him to lead her away. Their arms hooked together like a declaration of silent authority.
As the pair walked off, the women behind them exchanged confused glances.
"Wait… was that really the Young Madam?"
"No way. She would've said something!"
The guard, however, wasn't confused. His eyes widened in realization as the pieces fell into place. 'Did I just meet the rumoured Young Madam?'
Meanwhile, Chibuzor cast a sidelong glance at Olaedo, his lips curving into a subtle smirk. "Next time, try not to cause such a commotion."
Olaedo tilted her head at him, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Next time, tell your staff to recognize their Young Madam. Might save us both some time."
Chibuzor chuckled lowly, a rare sound, as they disappeared into the ballroom.
Behind them, the guard stood straighter, determined to never make such a mistake again, while the two women fumed quietly, still unsure what had just unfolded.
As the ball officially began, Old Master along with his wife took to the stage to welcome the guests. After a brief speech, he gestured toward Olaedo and Chibuzor.
"Before we continue, I would like to introduce someone very special to our family. Please welcome my grand daughter in law, Mrs. Arinze Olaedo."
The room fell silent. Amaka's face turned pale, her earlier remarks coming back to haunt her.
At another table, the other lady who backed her up sat in a daze before making a quick decision to hide in the restroom lest Olaedo seeks her out.
A cacophony of disbelieved and shocked whispers filled the large hall. Some of their voices standing out from the others.
"That's her?" someone whispered.
"She's the Young Madam?" gasped another.
Olaedo ascended the stage gracefully arms hooked with Chibuzor. On the stage, she unhooked their arms and walked towards the microphone stand.
Immediately Olaedo took the microphone, the ballroom lights seemed to focus solely on her. The chatter died down completely, all eyes on the poised woman at the center of the stage. She took a moment to meet the gaze of the crowd, her serene smile exuding a quiet confidence.
"Good evening, esteemed guests," she began, her voice clear and warm. "It is an absolute honor to stand before you tonight on behalf of the Arinze family, and I want to thank each of you for gracing us with your presence at this year's ball."
A polite round of applause rippled through the room. She paused, letting the moment settle before continuing.
"Tonight, as we celebrate our shared successes and the bonds that connect us, I am reminded of something my mother once told me. He said, 'Family is not just a name; it is a legacy built with every decision, every sacrifice, and every act of love or resilience.'
Her words resonated, drawing nods from some of the older guests.
"The Arinze family has always stood as a beacon of strength, but we are not an island. Our relationships, whether as friends, allies, or partners, are what truly define us. It is through these connections that we leave a mark greater than ourselves."
The room hung on her every word now. Her tone shifted, becoming slightly lighter but still commanding.
"Tonight is not just about celebrating where we have been; it is about looking forward to where we can go together. A legacy isn't built alone, and it doesn't stand still. It grows, evolves, and endures."
She smiled, scanning the room once more. "So, let us enjoy this evening not just as a gathering of individuals, but as a celebration of the partnerships and dreams that will carry us into the future. Thank you."
The room erupted into applause. Even the most skeptical guests couldn't help but acknowledge her grace and eloquence. For a moment, Olaedo allowed herself to bask in the admiration, but her calm demeanor never faltered.
From the corner of the room, Chibuzor's eyes lingered on her a bit too long. 'She's… formidable.'
The old couple standing beside her on stage also smiled gently in approval with Old Madam's eyes literally saying I knew she could do it!
Meanwhile, Ifeoma fumed silently. 'Why does she have to do everything so perfectly?'
As Olaedo descended from the stage, she carried herself with the air of someone who belonged, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind: this was a woman worthy of the Arinze name.
Back at her table, Amaka squirmed in her seat, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Meanwhile, Ifeoma couldn't help but glare at Olaedo, jealousy flaring in her chest. Even the stepmother, who had plotted in the shadows, tightened her grip on her wine glass, silently vowing revenge.
As the applause for Olaedo's speech died down, Ndidi leaned toward her husband. "She handled that beautifully. I will be back soon." Her tone was soft but her heart was bitter. Then she stood up and went to a corner.
Mr. Arinze nodded, but his sharp eyes scanned the crowd. He had seen the way some guests looked at Olaedo. The question wasn't if they would cause trouble, but when.
And trouble wasn't far off.
In a secluded corner of the ballroom, Olaedo's stepmother in law, Ndidi sat with a smug expression, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Let's see how long you can keep up this perfect facade, dear Young Madam," she whispered to herself.
The first shot of the evening's many battles had been fired, but the war was far from over.
The grand ballroom of the Arinze mansion stilled as the lights dimmed, a hush falling over the glittering crowd. An expectant silence replaced the earlier chatter as everyone turned toward the center of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced, his voice echoing through the hall, "please direct your attention to the floor as we welcome the country's finest traditional dance troupe, here to honor us with a performance befitting tonight's grandeur."
The dancers entered in a fluid, mesmerizing line, their vibrant, intricately embroidered costumes gleaming under the chandelier lights. The rhythmic sound of talking drums and flutes filled the air, blending seamlessly with the hum of an ogbongelenge.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd as the dancers took their places, their every movement exuding elegance, strength, and precision.
The performance began with a slow, deliberate tempo, a homage to ancestral traditions. The lead dancer, adorned with a headdress that sparkled with crystals, stepped forward and executed a sweeping gesture that seemed to pull the audience into their world. Each step told a story, the language of their feet and hands weaving the narrative of unity, resilience, and heritage.
"Look at their precision," Olaedo remarked quietly to Nnenna, who nodded, wide eyed.
The tempo picked up, and the dancers exploded into a whirlwind of energy. Their feet pounded against the floor in sync with the pulsating drums, and the room seemed to come alive with their infectious energy. Traditional chants, sung with booming voices, echoed off the high ceilings.
Guests couldn't help but clap along, some even rising from their seats in excitement.
"Now, this is what I call culture," one elder remarked with approval.
Even the younger guests, initially preoccupied with their phones or murmured conversations, were transfixed. The troupe transitioned into a segment that showcased a duel, a mock competition between male and female dancers, earning gasps and cheers as they leaped, spun, and feigned rivalry with practiced ease.
"They're incredible!" Ifeoma exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her reservations about the evening.
"Indeed," Chibuzor said quietly, though his gaze lingered more on Olaedo than the dancers.
The final act was a breathtaking combination of strength and artistry. Male dancers hoisted their partners high above their heads in perfect synchronization, their movements defying gravity. The lead dancer concluded with a series of backflips that seemed to defy the human body, landing seamlessly with one final, triumphant pose.
The crowd erupted in applause, some guests giving a standing ovation.
"I've seen countless dance troupes, but this one… they're on another level," a socialite murmured to her companion.
As the dancers bowed deeply to their audience, the master of ceremonies returned to the floor. "A truly spectacular performance! Let's hear it one more time for the pride of our culture!"
Olaedo clapped, a genuine smile on her face as she leaned toward Nnenna. "Their performance was flawless. It's moments like this that remind me how rich our heritage truly is."
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Guys, ogbongelenge means xylophone in English.