But there was a price to be paid. Chibuzor could still remember the cold, grueling nights of training, when his grandfather would sit him down, his gaze intense and unyielding.
"Remember, Chibuzor," his grandfather would say, his voice low and firm, "strength and sacrifice will define you. Never forget who you are and what you are fighting for."
Those words became Chibuzor's mantra, a shield against the past and the turmoil that haunted him. But even as he learned the fine art of leadership, he knew the cost was heavy.
Living in a house where love was overshadowed by ambition sometimes, where trust was a distant memory, he was always reminded of the price of silence, of survival at the expense of others.
Chibuzor had grown up knowing that silence was survival, that victory often meant crushing others beneath your heel. But tonight, as the past resurfaced in whispers and accusations, all he could think of was the true cost of silence and the burden it carried.
The past was always with him, like a shadow that never let go. Now, standing in the grand ballroom with eyes fixed upon him, he could feel it creep back in, suffocating him, reminding him of a part of himself he could never escape.
The scandal that had torn his family apart had returned. And its echoes would shape everything that came next.
It was not just Chibuzor who felt the weight of it. His siblings, his grandparents, all shared the painful memory. Mr. Arinze sat with his head bowed in shame mixed with guilt, while Ndidi, shocked and stunned, stared ahead. This was not how she had planned things. How had it all backfired so quickly?
The atmosphere in the ballroom crackled with tension, the air heavy with an impending storm. Chibuzor's second uncle, Chetachukwu, seized the moment to voice his opinion, leaning toward his eldest son but ensuring his words were loud enough to be overheard by the entire room.
"When I told your grandfather that my elder brother and his children couldn't handle such responsibility, he refused to listen," Chetachukwu murmured, his voice dripping with disdain. "He insisted on handing it all over to that... boy, Chibuzor. Now look at the mess we're in."
By the time the last word left his lips, a silence swept through the hall. Guests exchanged glances, their eyes wide with scandalized curiosity. Chetachukwu rose from his seat, his righteous indignation palpable as he approached Old Master Arinze, the room's gaze now fully fixed upon him.
"Father," Chetachukwu began, his voice dripping with disdain as he bowed slightly. His words, however, carried the heavy weight of his grievance. "You made a rule, a sacred one. Anyone who disgraces this family loses their claim to the inheritance. My elder brother did just that, and you disqualified him, as you should have. That left me next in line. But instead of honoring the rule, you skipped over me and handed everything to this... boy."
He gestured toward Chibuzor, his contempt evident in every movement. "Now, he's married a woman whose actions disgrace the Arinze name. Are you going to ignore your own promise again? Isn't it my turn yet?"
The room fell into shocked silence as Chetachukwu's words hung in the air, the revelation of the family rule spreading like wildfire. Whispers swelled, buzzing like angry bees, as the guests exchanged wide eyed glances.
Olaedo's gaze flicked to Chibuzor, her heart sinking as she observed the icy calm on his face. 'So this is why he's so angry with me,' she thought, guilt clawing at her chest. 'He's been warning me to improve myself, to avoid causing trouble... and now I've brought him this. What have I done?'
Her chest tightened with the realization that she had inadvertently placed the man who's been helping her in such jeopardy.
But Chibuzor's thoughts were far from the company. It wasn't about the empire, it was just one piece of his vast possession. What gnawed at him now were the words he had just heard, and the voice carrying that damning message. 'Could this be true?'
At the head of the table, Old Master Arinze's face darkened, his fury simmering beneath the surface. He slammed a hand on the table, the impact silencing the whispers with a single thunderous motion.
His children shared his anger, but none dared to speak. The rule Chetachukwu referenced was real, but discussing it openly, before outsiders, was an unforgivable violation of the family's unspoken code.
It was Old Madam who took control. Rising gracefully, her voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade. "Chetachukwu, enough!" she commanded, her gaze hard and unyielding. "Is this the right place? The right time for such words?"
Chetachukwu froze, his confidence faltering under her piercing stare. His bitterness, however, was too deeply ingrained to be fully suppressed.
Bowing slightly, he spoke again, his tone apologetic yet still firm. "I'm sorry, Mother. But Father must honor his word. If we don't address this now, he may go behind our backs and choose someone else, just as he did with my elder brother's son."
Old Master's face turned even darker, his chest rising and falling as he fought to control his rage. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp, uncompromising, and filled with authority.
"It is my company," he thundered, "and I will give it to whomever I deem fit! Yes, I made that rule, and yes, it still stands. But let me remind you why you and your siblings were bypassed in the first place. None of you, not one, has proven yourselves as capable as Chibuzor, whom you so easily call a 'boy.'"
He turned toward the entire room, addressing not just his son, but the gathering as a whole. "In five years, Chibuzor has achieved what none of you could accomplish in fifty. Thanks to him, every shareholder in the Arinze empire has reaped countless rewards including all of you. And you dare to question my judgment?"