She Paid a Penniless Stranger to Marry Her, Never Suspecting the “Call Boy” Secretly Controlled a Billion-Dollar Empire. Days Before Her Business-Driven Wedding, Ifeanya Helped a Stranded Man Everyone Else Coldly Dismissed as Another Street Scammer. He Had Lost His Wallet and Phone, Yet His Family Owned Hotels, Towers, Construction Companies, and Millions Worldwide. She Gave Him Her Last Transport Money and Vanished Before He Could Learn More Than Her First Name. Meanwhile, Her Distant Fiancé and Father Treated Her Marriage Like a Contract Their Companies Desperately Needed to Survive. But One Unexpected Reunion Would Turn Her Desperate Proposal Into a Marriage Neither Family Could Ever Control Again.

She Paid A Poor Call Boy To Marry Her, Unaware He Owned a Billion-Dollar Empire

Seriously. My wallet and phone, both gone. Someone bumped into me near that shop. I was robbed. One shot architecture program, no family driver, no security. Brilliant idea for a city I have never been to before. People know the Nwosu name. Hardly anybody knows my face. Property, hotels, construction, millions in the bank.

And I cannot pay for a ride. Excuse me, sir. My phone and wallet were stolen. Please, can I use your phone to make one call?  No.  It’s will only take a minute.  I said no.  Please, I only need to make one call.  Sorry, I can’t help you. I’ve heard that story before.  Wonderful.  You look like you’re having a terrible day.

 She’s beautiful.  But it’s the concern on her face that catches me. That obvious?  A little.  My phone and wallet were stolen.  Both?  Unfortunately.  Do you know where you are going?  Yes. I just don’t know how I’m getting there.  It happened to me once. I was stranded for almost 2 hours.

This should be enough for your transport.  You don’t know me.  I know.  What if I’m lying?  Then you are a very committed liar because you look miserable.  [laughter]  I can pay you back.  You don’t need to.  At least give me your number.  Just help somebody else one day.  Wait. At least tell me your name.

 Sorry,  I have to go.  Everybody else walked away. She stopped. She didn’t even ask me for anything.  You went out alone after we warned you.  I’ve already suffered enough. Don’t add to it. Everybody kept refusing me. Then one young woman stopped and gave me transport money. She was young, very beautiful,    long black braids.

 She had a university group tag, too. But what I remember most is how concerned she looked.  Was she wearing a blue top?  Yes. I think I saw her earlier. She came with one of the university groups. There were five and one of them wore a blue top.  Do you know her?  Not very well. I think her name is Ifeanya.  Ifeanya?      Careful with the waist.

Relax. You look beautiful.  The dress is beautiful. The wedding will be expensive. Everything is supposed to be perfect, so why does nothing feel right? Hello.  Are you still at the fitting?  Yes.  I’ll call you later.  You called me.  I know. I just wanted to check something.    What?  Nothing important.

 Emeka?  I said I’ll call you later.  Everything all right? Yes. No, it isn’t.  One week to the wedding. Everyone says you and Emeka make the perfect couple.  Especially my father.  The Obi family is wealthy and well-connected, same as your family. Wealthy people locate in each other. Your father must be very happy about this marriage.

 [sighs]  Almost 2 years together. And for weeks now, Emeka has been distant. Please help me out of this. I want to leave early. I need to  find out what is going on. Daddy.  Have you spoken to Emeka?  Yes.  Good. Make sure everything stays calm until the wedding.  What does that mean?  It means don’t start an unnecessary argument with him.

 Why would I?  You know how you are.  Daddy, I’m getting married in less than 2 weeks. Can we not talk about business for 1 day?  This marriage is connected to business, whether you like it or not.  I’m marrying Emeka because I chose him.  I know that. His family company is important to us right now.

 To the company.  Yes, to the company.  Chioma Designs and Construction was Mommy’s company. She started small. She built it from almost nothing. She was smart, hardworking, and stubborn when she needed to be. She built something  people respected. Then she died. After Mommy died, Daddy stayed involved in running the company while I finished school and trained as an architect, but the company was struggling.

Major contracts  had been lost. Money was tight. Mommy’s will said control of the company would eventually pass to me, but there was one condition. By the time this takes effect, I expect my daughter to have her own home and her own life. I don’t want Ebuka controlling her inheritance. Mommy thought she was protecting me.

Now that strange condition feels like a trap.  Just make sure nothing happens before the wedding.  Why do you keep saying that?  Because this family cannot afford another problem.  Something is wrong. I need to see Emeka. Amanda’s clothes, attention, school, friends. Anything I had, Amanda wanted something better.

 I hope it is not what I am thinking. His car is here. Emeka? Oh. woman’s laugh?  [laughter]  Amanda. Oh. What is this?  If Ananya.  What is  this? You can see what it is. Less than 2 weeks to our wedding.  I know.  And you’re sleeping with my sister?  Don’t make this bigger than it needs to be.  Bigger than it needs to be? Did I hear you correctly? If Ananya, don’t start shouting.

 You knew I was marrying him. Yes. There is no shame in that smile. Only satisfaction. You did this on purpose. And you are my sister. We have the same father. Maybe you should ask yourself why men keep coming to me.    You always act like you’re better than everybody. I have never said that.

 You don’t need to. The way Daddy talks about you, the company, your mother, everybody acts like you’re special. This is about Ameka. No. This is about you thinking everything belongs to you. My fiance. Men always prefer me eventually.  Enough.  How long have you been sleeping with her?  A few months.  A few months?  It doesn’t have to change anything.

 What?  The wedding is soon.  What?  [sighs and gasps]  You think I’m still marrying you?  If Ananya, marriage is not a fairy tale.  I didn’t ask for one.  Our families are joining businesses. We already have plans.  The wedding is arranged. Everything is ready.  And you are sleeping with my sister.

 It was sex. It doesn’t mean I’m marrying her. You and I can still get married.  Don’t touch me.  You’re emotional right now.  No. For once, I think I’m seeing you clearly.  Ifunanya  The wedding is over. You won’t  do it.  [laughter]  You can’t. Watch me.  Don’t be stupid.     Ifunanya,  what have you done?  For one foolish  second, I thought he was asking if I was all right.

He isn’t. What have I done?  You canceled the wedding.  Emeka is sleeping with Amanda, your precious daughter.  I know.  You know?  Amanda called on your way here.  And you’re angry with me.  I’m angry because you are making a permanent decision because of one mistake.  One mistake?  Emeka is a man.

 What exactly does that mean?  It means men make mistakes.  With my sister?  He has apologized.  He hasn’t. He didn’t even apologize.  Then he will.  No.  Listen to me.  I’ve listened enough.  Emeka’s family company is one of the few companies willing to support us right now. If this marriage goes ahead, we can save your mother’s business.

 The company is not worth marrying a man who humiliates me.  Easy for you to say.  What does that mean?  You don’t know what it takes to keep the company alive.  Then show me the accounts.  That is not the point.  It is exactly the point.  You have 2 weeks before your birthday. Just 2 weeks.

 If you’re are not legally married, you cannot take control of the company.  I know my mother’s will.  Then behave like you understand the situation.  You want me to marry him after what he did?  Yes, forgive him.  No.  You are throwing away everything your mother built.  Don’t use her against me.  If Chioma were alive  If Mommy were alive, she would never ask me to marry a man who sleeps with my sister.

I will find another way.  There is no other way.  Then I will create one.  Ifunanya, you have 2 weeks.  I know.    2 weeks, no fiance. Mommy’s company is hanging by a thread. If I take over, I believe I can save the company myself. I do not need Imecca. But right now, what am I going to do?  Forgive him.

 Nobody even asked how I feel. I can’t stay here tonight. Last one. I already said that twice.  Bad day?  You could say that.  Then I probably shouldn’t ask.  That would be wise. That face looks familiar, but from where? Why are you laughing?  Because you sound like someone who has threatened people all day.

 I haven’t.  Not yet? My name is Chukwudi.  Ifunanya.  Ifunanya.  Yes.  I was right. It has been 5 years. The girl from Abuja. The woman who stopped  for me when everybody else walked past. I imagined seeing her again. I never imagined finding her alone with sadness all over her face.  What?  Nothing.

 You know me.  I know your name.    How?  You work in architecture.  Oh, Mommy’s company is known in the industry.  I’ll have the same.  That explains it.  I remember her face. I searched for her  once. And she still has no idea I am Chukwudi Iwuogu of Nosu Group. What happened?  You really want to know?  Only if you want to tell me.

 My fiance slept with my sister.  That is a very bad day.  I told you.  Your actual sister?  Half sister.  That doesn’t make it better.  No.    And the wedding?  Less than 2 weeks away.  Was.  Exactly.  You ended it?  Immediately.  Good.  You don’t even know me.  I don’t need to know you to know you shouldn’t marry a man who was sleeping with your sister.

 My father disagrees.  That is worrying.  He wants me to forgive Emeka.  Emeka?  My former fiance.  Former. I like that word.  The worst part is that everybody is acting like I caused the problem.  Did you?  No.  Then stop carrying their shame for them.  My father says I destroy things when I’m angry.

 Do you?  Sometimes.  At least  you’re honest.  [laughter]  One terrible boss can ruin an entire day. This place needs music.  Yes, music would go so well in this place.  Right? It would make everything better.  She’s different from the girl I remember.  [laughter]  More guarded, but the kindness is still there.

 You are strangely easy to talk to.  I have been told I have hidden talents.  By women?  Maybe.  That sounded suspicious.  Do you want me to take you home?  I don’t want to go home.  If Ananya  I know what I’m saying.  Are you sure?  Yes. For one night I don’t want to  plan everything.

I don’t want to be the responsible daughter.    We don’t have to do anything.  I know. I want to.     Oh God.  Good morning.  Oh God.  That is the second time you’ve said that.  Oh God. What did I do?  I don’t think that question has a safe answer.    His laugh, our conversation, his hand in mine.

I told him I was sure. I actually did it. My first time with a man I met only hours ago. Please, let  this bed swallow me.  Are you all right?  Yes. No.  If Ananya, you were aware last night. You told me what you wanted more than once.  I know. This isn’t about you.  Then what is it?  I waited.

 For?  That was my first time.  You didn’t tell me.  I didn’t plan to tell you.  If I had known  What? You would have stopped?  Yes. You were upset. I would have made sure you were thinking clearly.  I was.  I know, but still  He actually looks troubled. I made the choice.  But you’re regretting it.

 I don’t know. I think I am regretting my entire life this week.    You got a new phone quickly.  My assistant arranged it.  Assistant?  Someone I work with.  Oh. You work around here?  Sometimes.  At this hotel?  I have business here from time to time.  What kind of business?  Just business.

I meet people here.  Clients?  Yes.  Clients,  hotel, handsome man, private meetings, women.  What?  Oh my goodness.  What happened now?  You work here.  Sometimes.  With women.  Women?  You know.  I don’t.  You are one of those men.  What men?  The ones women pay.  Wait. She thinks I get paid to sleep with women?  It’s fine.

 It is?  I don’t judge people. I know you have your reason for choosing this line of work.  You think  Please don’t explain. Too handsome, too charming, too comfortable in a hotel. I slept with a call boy without even knowing it. Maybe that’s why he was so good at making me forget everything.  What are you doing?  Paying.

 For what?  For last night.  You’re paying me?  Don’t say it like that.  How should I say it?  I don’t know. Just take it.  You seriously think I’m a male prostitute?  I said I don’t judge. Are you laughing at me?  No.  You are.  I promise I’m trying not to.  Fine. Don’t take it.  No. Give it to me.

If you’re determined to pay me, who am I to insult a customer?  You are very annoying.  And yet you said I did a good job.  I did not say that.  You were about to.  I wasn’t.  Your face said it. The plenty money you just gave me said it, too.  Goodbye, Chukwudi.  Will I see you again?  No.  That sounded very final.

 It is.    Thank you for last night.  You’re welcome.  If Eniola of all people. Oh. Wait. Did you just take my picture?  Maybe.    You spent the night here.  None of your business.  Who is he?  Emeka will love this. Send it to him.  What?  I said send it.  You don’t care.

 Why should I?  Because he is still your fiance.  No, he is yours now. He isn’t mine.  Then keep sleeping with him until you decide what he is. You think this makes you better than me? No. I just don’t want what you have already touched. And since you like my leftovers so much, you can keep him. The good girl spent a night with a man.

Let’s see how brave you are when everybody sees this. Emeka, Amanda, Daddy, again?  [sighs]  Come home now. Of course. Wonderful. Everybody is here.  What is this?  You have eyes.  You slept with him.  Emeka, you are asking me that?  We were supposed to get married.  You were sleeping with Amanda for months.

 That doesn’t answer my question.  It doesn’t need to.  You cheated on me. What is funny?  You.  [laughter]  I am serious.  So am I.  Enough. Emeka says he is reconsidering the marriage.  Reconsidering?  Yes.    Again? Somehow I am the one being judged. I cannot believe this. This is ridiculous.

 He was sleeping with my sister.  And now you have been photographed leaving a hotel with another man.  After I ended the engagement.  That is not how people will see it.  I don’t care how people see it.  You should.  No.  If you apologize, maybe we can still fix this.  Apologize?  Yes.  I cannot believe this.

 You slept with my sister for months. I caught both of you. You told me it was just sex. And now you want me to apologize because I spent one night with another man after ending the engagement?  If Ananya  No.  You need to think about the company. If Emeka walks away, his family’s support goes with him.  Let it.  And your mother’s will?    I know.

 You have days left.  I know.  You cannot take control unless you are married. I am trying to do you a favor.  I know.  Then beg him.  No, never. I would rather die than marry a cheat like him.  Ifunanya?  No.  You’d rather lose your mother’s company?  I would rather lose everything than marry you.

 What is that?  My earnings.  Your what?  A woman paid me this morning. She thinks I’m a gigolo.  I don’t want to know.  She thought you two couldn’t wrestle, owners of luxury hotels and various companies. A renowned architect is a gigolo.  [laughter]  You haven’t even heard the interesting part.

There is a more interesting part. It was Ifunanya Eze, the woman from Abuja. The woman you never forgot.  You finally found her.  She found me.  And now she thinks you sell yourself to women?  Yes.  Wonderful. Find out what is happening with her.  Everything?  Everything important, quietly. Her mother was Chioma Eze.

Founder of Chioma Designs and Construction.  Yes.  Chioma died some years ago. Her husband, Ebuka Eze, married his mistress, Gozie, and he remained involved in the company after the And Ifunanya. There is a condition in her mother’s will. She has to be legally married before the deadline to receive controlling ownership of the company.

That explains the wedding. Partly. The fiance is Ime Obi. His family’s company has been supporting Chioma Designs. It seems Ebuka Ezedi did not manage the company well and they have been losing a lot of money. Former fiance. Yes. Apparently, he was sleeping with Ifunanya’s half sister, Amanda. She ended the engagement yesterday.

Good. There is another problem. What? Chioma Designs is struggling financially. And they are connected to one of our developments. Nwosu Group? Yes. They are handling part of a design and construction package under one of our partners. Interesting. All these years and her company was already connected to mine. What are you  Check this measurement again before they continue.

You have got to be joking.  Ifunanya.  What are you doing here?  Working.    You work here, too?  Yes.  That must be exhausting.  It has its difficult days.  You should have told me.  Told you what?  That you were struggling.  I am.  You don’t have to be embarrassed.  I wasn’t.  Chukwudi, there is no shame in working.

 I agree.  I mean both jobs.  Both?  Yes.  Of course.  If you need help finding something more stable, you can answer.  No, nothing important. Kemi is handling three meetings because I came here hoping to see her.  Daddy.  Have you spoken to Emeka?  No.  Why?  Because I don’t want to.  You are running out of time.

 I know.  Then stop behaving like this.  I am not going back to him.  You don’t have another man to marry.  That doesn’t mean I’ll marry Emeka.  You have less than 2 weeks.  I know.  You must  marry ANY MAN ALIVE BEFORE I MARRY EMEKA.  WHAT?  Any man.  Why are you looking at me like that?  Chukwudi is unmarried.

I need a husband. He needs money. I only need the marriage long enough to satisfy the will. Chukwudi.  Yes.  I need to ask you something.  That sounds dangerous.  It might be. What if I paid you?  For?  To marry me. Not forever. Just for a few months. I need a husband, Chukwudi. Terrible idea. Ridiculous idea.

 Possibly the only idea I have left. Why are you smiling?  No reason. 5 years ago, she gave me money and disappeared. This week, she paid me after one night together. Now she wants to pay me to become her husband.  I am serious.  I can see that.  Then stop smiling. This was a mistake.  Wait. I didn’t say no.  You didn’t?  No.

Maybe we should talk somewhere quieter before I agree to become somebody’s husband.  Fine.  All right. Explain.  My mother died some years ago.  I’m sorry.  Thank you. She left me her company. But there is a condition in her will. I take full control when I turn 25, but only if I am legally married by then.

   And you turn 25 soon.  In a few days.  That explains the urgency. I already know, but she needs to tell me herself.  I don’t need a real marriage.  I understand.   I just need a man that will stick around long enough until I get my hands on my mother’s assets. I don’t need a real marriage.

 That sounds promising.  Please be serious.  I am listening.  I don’t need a real marriage.  That sounds promising.  Please be serious.  I am listening.  We get married legally. I take control of my mother’s shares. We remain married for a few months so nobody can claim I only did it for the inheritance.

 Even though that is exactly why you’re doing it.  You don’t have to say everything you’re thinking.  Noted.  After a few months, we divorce.  Simple.  Very simple. You will be paid.  Paid?  Yes. I was thinking of a monthly salary.  A salary?  Yes.  For being your husband?  Yes. If you laugh, I’m leaving.

 I am not laughing.  You are laughing inside.  That is harder to prove.  I can pay you 500,000 every month.  500,000?  If that is too small, we can discuss it.  500,000?  Yes.  And what exactly does the job involve?  The job?  If I’m being employed, I need to understand my duties.  You are enjoying this.

 A little.  Chukwudi.  All right. No romantic expectations?  No.  No sleeping together because we are married?  That will not happen again.  That sounded painful.  It wasn’t painful. I hate you.  You hardly know me.  That can change. Separate rooms.  Fine.  You will attend important family events with me when necessary.

 Fine.  You cannot embarrass me.  That one hurts.  And nobody can know I am paying you.  Obviously.  You cannot suddenly disappear before the agreement ends.  What if I get a better offer? I’m joking.  And one more thing.  There is more?  While we are married, you cannot be with other women.  Other women?  Your other job, the gigolo work, you have to suspend it until our marriage ends.

 [laughter]  Are you jealous already?  No. I just don’t want my husband sleeping with other women while he is married to me.  My husband.  I cannot believe I’m doing this.  Hey, it’s okay. What happens if your family refuses to accept the marriage?  They don’t have to accept it.  And your former fiance?  Ameka is no longer my problem.

 Good.  So?  How many months?  Six.  Five.  You’re negotiating downward?  I don’t want a long contract.  Fine. Five.  And the salary begins immediately.  You are shameless.  I have bills.  Fine. Do we have a deal?  We have a deal.  Thank god.  You sound very happy to marry a male prostitute.

 Don’t say that so loudly.  [laughter]  GETTING A MARRIAGE APPOINTMENT this quickly might be difficult.  I know someone.  Someone who can help us?  Yes, he can help with the legal requirements and find the earliest available appointment. Kenny moves frighteningly fast when I give him impossible work.

 They are already handling everything.  Looks like it.  How did you manage it?  I know people.  What kind of people does a man in your line of work know?  Many kinds.  No church, no flowers, no family, just signatures. My friend is officially insane. She called me at the last minute to witness a marriage.

And she expects me not to ask questions? You are really doing this.  Please don’t start.  I am not starting. I am trying to understand.  Understand later.  Mrs. Ifunanyachi Wosu. Just like that. That is it.  You sound disappointed.  I expected it to feel different.  How?  I don’t know. You don’t feel married.

 I can try harder.  Don’t. Business.  Business. I should feel ridiculous. I just married the woman I have admired for 5 years. She thinks this is temporary. Finally. I was beginning to think you would never return.  Ngozi.  We need  to talk.  The woman Daddy hid while Mommy was alive, then married after she died.

 Your father said you asked us to come because you have something important to say.  I do.  If this is another argument, I don’t have time.  It isn’t. So, you finally came to beg Emeka? No.  Ifunanya, we don’t need to make this difficult. If you’re ready to apologize, what is this?  My marriage certificate.

 The what?  I got married.  Let me see that certificate. This is a joke.  It isn’t.  You married someone?  Yes.  When?  This morning. Have you lost your mind?  No.  Chukwudinwasu.  Chukwudi. The same man from the hotel? You married a man who sells himself to women?  I married someone.  You will divorce him immediately.

 No.  You will do it.  No.  If Funanya.  I am legally married. I turn 25 in a few days. That means Mummy’s shares come to me.  So that is what this is about.    Yes.  At least you admit it.  I never said otherwise.  You married some stranger just to get the company?  I told you I would find another way.

 You could have married me.  You slept with Amanda. Are we still talking about that?  Yes, Amanda. People usually remember betrayal for longer than two days. You should watch how you speak to your sister.  My sister slept with my fiance. And now you have gone out and married a prostitute.  Be careful.

 Why? Does the truth suddenly hurt?  [laughter]  You entered this family by sleeping with another woman’s husband.  If Funanya.  So if we’re discussing women who should be ashamed of the men they sleep with, maybe you should sit down.  Don’t talk to MY MOTHER LIKE THAT.  Then tell your mother not to talk to me like that.

 Enough. You have embarrassed this family enough.  Me?  Yes, you.  Not Imeka, not Amanda, not Nozi, me. Again.  You will  end this nonsense.  No.  Then you have made your choice.  I have.  If you choose this man over your family,    don’t come back here.  All right.  What?  I won’t come back.

 You are seriously leaving.  You should be happy. Amanda is available.  If Unanya, think carefully about what you’re doing.  I have. I knew he would be angry. I expected insults, even threats. I didn’t expect it to hurt this much. That was still my home. The last place where I could still remember Mommy.

Hello.  Madam wife.  Don’t call me that.  Where are you?  In my car. Come and meet me.  Ades,  No.  You married a stranger this morning. I deserve an explanation.  Fine.  Start talking.  There isn’t  much to say.  You met a man and married him in less than 1 week.  Yes.  There is plenty to say.

 He is not really my husband. I attended the marriage. You know what I mean.  No, I don’t.  It is an arrangement.  What arrangement?  I pay him every month.  You pay him?  Yes.  To be your husband?   Yes.  For how long?  5 months.  And then?  We divorce.  This is madness.  I know.

 Complete madness. I know.  You don’t know this man.  I know enough.  You met him 2 days ago.  Actually, we spent  the night together first.  Ifunanya!  Please.  Your first time?  Yes.  [sighs]  You have completely lost your mind. This week has destroyed you.  It really has.  If I don’t laugh, I’m going to cry again.

 And what does this chakudi even do?  He works at construction sites. That is normal. And I think he also entertains women.  What?  If you shout, I’m leaving.  Ifunanya.  He seems like a good person.  You hired a male prostitute to become your husband.  When you say it like that, it sounds bad.  How else should I say it?  At least Emeka is worse.

 [sighs]  Yes. What happened at home?  Daddy told me not to come back.  Oh. He chose everybody else again.  I’m sorry.  It’s fine.  No, it isn’t.  We’ll figure things out. First, I need to get control of Mommy’s company.   And after that?  After that, I can breathe.  You got married.  Yes.

 You actually got married.  I believe we’ve established that.  2 days ago, this woman thought you were a gigolo.  She still does.  And she married you anyway?  Yes.  Why?  She needs to satisfy a condition in her mother’s will. I have questions. I know. Many questions. Does she know who you really are? How rich you are? No.

Does she know you own the company connected to her family’s project? No. Does she know the construction site where she found you is one of our developments? No. And she is paying you 500,000 EVERY MONTH.  [laughter]  I DON’T SEE WHAT IS FUNNY. YOU EARN MORE than that in 1 minute. That is not the point. What is the point?  It is Ifunanya.

The girl from 5 years ago. Yes. So, you agreed because of that. Partly. What is the other part? I want to know her. Boss, people normally ask a woman to dinner. I did. They normally date. We skipped that. You skipped several things. Hello, wife. What happened?  I need you tomorrow morning.  What time?  9:00.

 I’ll be there.  Thank you.  You have a board meeting at 9:00. Move it. To when? Later. The investors are flying in. They can have breakfast. You cannot keep canceling meetings every time your fake wife calls. She is not fake. The marriage is fake. The marriage certificate disagrees. That is not what I mean.

 I can already see what is happening. What? You have somehow married a woman who thinks you are poor, thinks you are a gigolo, pays you a salary, and calls whenever she needs you. That sounds accurate.  You are doing an excellent job. I want a raise. Denied. If this woman calls during tomorrow’s afternoon meeting, I am switching off your phone myself.

If you know Nnenna  Wasu. Now she’s my wife. What?  We need to go somewhere.  Where?  Shopping.  For what?  For you.  What is wrong with me?  Nothing is wrong with you.  Good.    But if you’re going to appear beside me as my husband, you need better clothes.  I have clothes.  I have seen them. You need suits.

 I own suits.  Those construction site suits?  Fine.  And proper shoes.  I have shoes, too.  Chukwudi.  All right, boss.  Don’t call me boss.  You pay me.  Keep talking and I will reduce your salary.    Mr. Noll.  What?  Nothing. Welcome home.  My husband needs a few suits.  Your husband? Yes.

 I want something simple, nothing too expensive.  Of course.  Wow. Not bad. It looks like they made it for you.  Because we did.  This is strange.  What?  Everything fits.  I have a common body.  There is nothing common about your body. We’ll take this one.  [laughter]  What?  Nothing.  Why did I say that out loud?  That comes to 150,000 naira.

 Can you do something about that?  Certainly.  That is a huge discount.  We are running a special offer.  Today?  Yes.  On everything?  Selected customers.  Wonderful.  Extremely selected. I’ll pay you back.  With what?  When I start making proper money.  You already work.  You don’t consider either of my jobs proper.

 That isn’t what I mean.  I know.  You don’t need to pay me back.  Why?  You’re my husband.  What?  You just said that very easily.  I meant for the arrangement.  Of course.  Don’t make it strange.  I didn’t.  You are smiling.  I smile a lot. Thank you.  For the clothes?  Yes.  It’s nothing.

 It isn’t.  You can repay me by looking respectable when people see us together.  So now I am a project.  You’ve been a project since I met you.  First you paid me, then you married me, now you’re dressing me.  When you say it like that, I sound terrible.  You really do. Well, this is interesting.

So this is what you are doing now.  Good afternoon, Emeka.  You’re buying clothes for him?  That is none of your business.  I suppose life is good when a rich woman pays your bills. Tell me, how does it feel?  Leave him alone.  I am talking to your husband.  He doesn’t want to talk to you.  Of course he doesn’t.

 New suits, new shoes. Maybe next you will buy you a car. Must feel really good to live off a wealthy woman. You must be very good at whatever you do.  Enough.  What? I am only saying the truth. You’re a grown man living off a woman’s money.  Are you finished?  So you can talk.  I asked if you are finished.  Or what?  You can insult me as much as you like.

How generous. But you will not insult my wife.  Your wife?  Yes.  You mean the woman paying you to stand beside her?  You lost the right to speak about her when you slept with her sister.  If Ananya told you that?  She did not need to tell me much.  You’re discussing me with him now?  If you don’t like people discussing your behavior, behave better.

 You think this man is going to save you?  I don’t need anybody to save me.  Good, because he clearly cannot.  If you ever speak to her like that again, you will answer to me.  You?  Yes.  What are you going to do?  You don’t need to find out.  He doesn’t carry himself like someone with nothing.

 No, he is nobody. You two deserve each other.  Thank you.  What?  Nothing.  You’re looking at me strangely.  I didn’t know you could be like that.  Like what?  Scary.  I wasn’t scary.  You were a little scary.  Did you like it?  No.  You hesitated.  I did not.  You did.  Get in.    I’m taking you to dinner to thank you for the expensive clothes you bought for me.

 Dinner?  Yes.  Where?  You’ll see.   No.  What?  We are not eating here.  Why?  This place is too expensive.  I know.  Chukwudi.  What?  How are you paying?  You pay me every month.  That salary is not for wasting.  I haven’t even received the first full payment.  Exactly.

 Relax.  Do you know how much one meal costs here?  Yes.  That doesn’t worry you?  No.  Maybe I really am paying you too much.  Come inside. Mr. Nwosu, good evening. Chairman Nwosu. I’ve known him for years. Nwosu Group owns part of this place. Seems like she doesn’t  know.  You know him?  Yes.

 How?  I used to bring clients here.  Clients?  Yes.  Oh, those clients.  No. Not those clients.   I didn’t say anything.  Your face did. Please, our table.  Of course, sir.  This is a very good table.  I asked nicely.  You are strangely connected for a construction worker.  And  former gigolo.

 [laughter]  Ifeanyi.  Obinna. Obinna, we’ve known each other since we were children. His family owns a successful construction business. He helps run it now. Where have you been?  Look at you. You disappear for months and ask me where I have been.  You disappeared first.  Liar.  Big head.    Trouble.

Big head? I already don’t like this conversation.  Oh, sorry. This is Chukwudi.  Obinna Okoro. Chukwudi.  My husband.  Your what?  My husband.  When did you get married?  A few days ago.  And nobody told me?  It happened quickly.  That is not an answer.  I’ll explain later.  He is studying me now.

Good. Because I am studying him, too. Do you mind if I join you for a few minutes?  Of course.  Of course. Do you still talk to Amaka from secondary school?  After what she did at our graduation, never.  You are still holding that grudge?  Until I die.  [laughter]  Wonderful. Childhood stories, too. Perfect.

 Are you okay?  Perfect. You two have known each other long?  Not very long.  How long? Long enough to marry. Fair enough. So, Chukwudi, what do you do? I uh Chairman of Nwosu Group. Architect, property developer, investor, hotel owner, owner of several companies. And I can’t say any of them without destroying the story Ifunanya believes.

 He works with me.  At Chioma Designs?  Yes. He is joining the company.  I am joining her company? Interesting. Architecture?  Yes.  Good. Maybe we’ll work on something together sometime. Maybe. Why am I jealous? He’s not worth it. I should go. You owe me a full explanation.  I know.  And happy birthday in advance.

 Thank you.   Another hug. Wonderful. I definitely still don’t like him.  You don’t like him?  Who?  Obinna.  I just met him.  You don’t like him?  He seems wonderful.  That sounded painful.  Why does he call you Ify?  Because he has known me since I was seven.  And you call him big head.

 He had a big head when we were children.  Still does.  [laughter]  I like making her laugh.  There is something I want to talk to you about.  Whenever you say that, my life changes.  This one is  good.  That is what you said before marriage.  I want you to come for an interview.  Interview?  At my company.

 For what?  A job.  Ifunanya.  Listen first.  I have work.  Yes, two jobs. That is exactly my point. There is nothing wrong with what you used to do.  Thank you for your support.  I am serious.   So am I.  But you cannot spend your whole life moving between hotels and construction sites.

 Why not?  Because you can do better.  She really believes she is helping me. She thinks I need a chance. Do you even know what qualifications I have?  No.  Then how do you know I can work at an architecture company?  You are always looking at plans at the site.  Maybe I just like pictures.  I’ve spoken to you enough to know you are not stupid.

 That may be the nicest thing you’ve said to me.  I mean it.  Ifunanya.  Just come for the interview.  I don’t need    Chukwudi. You don’t have to keep struggling because you’re embarrassed to ask for help.  Fine.  You’ll come?  Yes.  Good.  You’re not coming in?  No. I’m not sitting on the interview panel.

I don’t want anyone saying I hired my husband without checking his qualifications. Is this correct?  Yes.  You studied architecture abroad?  Yes.  With distinction?  Yes.  You worked with one of the leading architectural firms there?  For a while.  You were part of the team behind the Acton Towers project?  Yes.

 And this housing development?  Yes. These designs are yours?  Yes.  This man is not an ordinary assistant architect Why is someone with this experience applying for this position?  Well,  I think they hate me.  What?  Mrs. Norsal?  Yes.  Can I speak with you?  Of course.  What?  You studied abroad?  Yes.

 You worked on Acton Towers.  Yes.  And you have international experience.  Yes.  You have awards.  A few.  Why didn’t you tell me?  You didn’t ask.  Then why were you  Why was I what?  You know.  No. Say it.  Doing that other work.  Life is complicated.  That is not an answer.  It is the answer you are getting today.

 You are unbelievable.  Did I get the job?  Yes.  What position?  Assistant Architect.  Wonderful.  You’re overqualified.  I need stability, remember?  Don’t mock me.  I would never.  Chukwudi.  Yes?  I am serious. You are talented.  Thank you.  You shouldn’t waste it.  You are talented.

Why did that mean so much? Where are you going?  Work.  You are at work.   My other work.  No.  I got the job.  I heard.  How?  One of the senior architects knows one of our project directors. Your CV caused a small discussion.  What kind of discussion?  Why someone with your qualifications wants an assistant architect position.

 Boss, you run Wasu Group.  I am aware. You cannot become an assistant architect.  I already did.  We have a company with thousands of employees.  You’ll manage.  I don’t want to manage.  You already manage.  I assist you.  You’ll be fine. Today you are being promoted.  To what?  Me. And please feed my fish.

 Your fish?  Yes.  You have staff for that.  They like you.  They are fish. Where exactly are you going?  My wife wants me at the office.  You have an investment meeting in an hour. Move it.  Again?  Yes. This marriage is destroying my life.  [laughter]   Where do you live?  Why?  You are my husband.

 So?  I have never seen your house.  That is true.  So take me.  Today?  Yes.  Impossible. One look at that place and the whole game is over. I need a house. You own several. A poor one. This marriage is stressing me out.    This is it.  You live here?  Yes.  Which apartment?  That one.

 With who?  Four other men.  Four?  Yes.  You share an apartment with four men?  Yes.  And you are married?  I was not married last week.  You live like  this?  For now.  You cannot stay here.  Why?  Because there are five of you.  They are nice.  I don’t care.  You want me to move?  Yes.

 With what money?  We’ll find something.    We?  You are my husband. What?  Nothing. Of all the developments you dragged me to, she chose one owned  by Nosu Group.  This one.  You like it?  I love it.  For me?  Yes.  You are buying me a house now?  I am helping.  Very generous.

 You can repay me one day.  Yesterday you said husbands don’t repay wives.  That was clothes. This is a house.  Ah, different rules.  I knew you would choose this one. I like it, too. There are other houses.  I don’t want the others. Of course you don’t. Emeka can buy it for me. Can’t you?  Of course.

 He doesn’t look very comfortable for a man who says he can buy it. We are taking this house.  Certainly,  madam. Understood, chairman. There seems to be a problem.  What problem?  The payment is not going through.  Try again. Call the bank.  This is so embarrassing.  I am sorry, sir.  Don’t enjoy this.

Do not enjoy this. What is going on?  Nothing.  You said you could buy it.  I can.  Then buy it.  Amanda, Mrs. Nosu, are you still interested?  Yes.  Understood. Actually, there is a special discount available today.  How much?  50%  Half price?  Yes.  What?  It is a promotional offer.  For her?  For selected buyers.

 At half price, I can handle this myself. I don’t need to touch the company money. Congratulations.  For what?  Your new house.  My new house?  Yes.  Ah. I’m starting to think marrying you was an excellent financial decision.  [laughter]  The way you have been giving instructions around here, someone would think you own the whole development.

 [laughter] [gasps]  Imagine.  What?  Imagine if you were secretly that Chukwudinma Osu.  I am Chukwudinma Osu.  No, seriously.    I am serious.  You?  Yes.  The Chukwudinma Osu?  Yes.  The billionaire chairman of Osu Group?  Yes.  [sighs] [laughter]  Why are you laughing?  Please, stop.

 I am telling you the truth.  And I am secretly the president.  You don’t believe me.  Not even a little.  Why?  Because Chukwudinma Osu would not be sharing a small apartment with four construction workers.  That is fair.  And he would not need me to buy him suits.  Also fair.  And you expect me to believe you.

And I seriously doubt one of the richest men in the country spends his nights entertaining wealthy women. She got the house after your payment failed.  Everyone saw that.  Nice try.  I just told my wife the truth straight to her face and she laughed at me. Why does that somehow make this whole ridiculous situation even better?    Finally, it’s my 25th birthday.

 No party. I don’t want one. I have waited years for this day.  You are 25.  Yes.  You are legally married and all the conditions your mother placed in the will have now been met. From today, controlling ownership of Chioma Designs and Construction belongs to you.  I waited for this for years. I thought I would feel happy.

Mommy should be here.  She would be proud that you made it this far.  The company is finally mine. Now I have to save it. Revenue dropped this much in 1 year?  Yes.  How?  We lost three major clients.  Why?  One moved to another company. Two canceled after concerns about our ability to complete their projects.

 What concerns? Please, don’t protect my feelings. I need the truth.  Your personal problems have also affected confidence.  My personal problems?  Your broken engagement to Emeka Obi.  [sighs and gasps]  What does my former engagement have to do with this company? The Obi family has relationships with some of our clients.

Emeka he is punishing me.  Some people are worried about the direction of the company.  Because I refused to marry a man who cheated on me?  Because you are young.  I am an architect.  Yes.  I have worked here.  Yes.  My mother built this company for me to inherit.  We know.  Then let us discuss my work, not my age.

How long do we have?  If nothing changes, maybe 8  months before we have serious cash problems.  Give me 6 months.  For what?  To turn this company around.  And if you can’t?  I will resign as CEO.    Ifeunanya.  My mother did not build this company so that her daughter could destroy it because of pride.

 If I cannot prove that I deserve this seat in 6 months, I will leave it.  She gave herself 6 months. To do what? Save the company. And if she doesn’t, she resigns. That woman likes giving herself problems. She married you. We already knew that. Chioma Designs is in worse condition than we thought. Why? Poor management, lost contracts, some bad decisions from Ebuka’s time.

   And Emeka? He has been speaking to some clients. Quietly. He is trying to punish her.    Yes. The Lakeside project. What about it? Who is handling the main design package? We haven’t awarded yet. Is Chioma Designs still in the final group? Yes. Good. Keep them there and make the final review completely independent.

 You do not want me to simply award it to them? No. If their proposal is not good enough, they do not get it. Their proposal is strong, then let them earn the opportunity. And if they come out on top, give them the 3-year contract. You want your wife’s company to compete for one of our biggest contracts without knowing you made sure nobody quietly pushed them out.

 Yes, of course. Do not change a score. Do not pressure the panel. I only want a fair review. They can do the work. Good. Don’t make it look like charity. You don’t want her to know you helped. No. Why? Because she needs to know she can save her mother’s company herself.  I dares, what happened? We got it. The Wosu Group contract.

The big one?  3 years.  [screaming and cheering]  This changes everything. It does. We still have problems, but this gives us time. I told you things would work out.    Yes, but we must stay vigilant. Maybe my luck is finally changing. This can still be fixed. What can? My marriage to Ifunanya.

She is already married. To a stranger, a broke nobody she is feeding and clothing. She married him because she was angry. You slept with Amanda. That was a mistake. My daughter was a mistake? I mean the situation. What exactly do you want? Ifunanya. After everything? My family is still willing to work with yours.

If Ifunanya divorces that man and marries me, we combine our business interests.  And Amanda?  Amanda and I were never serious. If Ifunanya is emotional now, she will calm down.  And if she refuses?  She won’t if you make her understand what is at stake. Come home.  No.  Ifunanya.  You told me not to come back.

 I am still your father.  And I am still the daughter you sent away.  Come home. We need to talk. Emeka.  What is this about?  Sit down.  I am fine.  Emeka came here.  I don’t care.  He wants to repair things between you.  There is nothing to repair.  He still wants to marry you.  I already have a husband.

 That man?  Yes, that man.  You cannot seriously compare that male prostitute to Emeka.  You are right. Chukwudi has never slept with my sister.  Emeka can give you stability.  I have stability.  With a man who depends on you?  Do not insult my husband.  Your husband?   Yes.  The man you have known for a few days?  At least he treats me with respect.

 And that is enough?  It is more than you gave Mommy.  What did you say?  You were a terrible husband to my mother.  Ifunanya.  You cheated on her for years. Watch yourself. You watched Mommy cry. You watched her struggle. Then after she died, you brought the woman you were sleeping with into her home.

 Enough.  No. I have been quiet for years because you are my father. But every time there is a choice, you choose everybody else. Emeka cheated on me and you asked me to forgive him. Amanda slept with my fiance and you still blamed me.  That is not true.  It is. You keep talking about the company like I am only useful when I can give this family money.

 You know that isn’t what I mean.  Then what do you mean? That is what I thought.  Chukwudi cannot give you the life you are used to.  Maybe I don’t want the life I am used to. There you are.  You’ve been crying.  No.  Ifunanya.  I am fine. What?  You don’t have to do that with me.  Do what?  Pretend.

 My father asked me to go back to Emeka. He thinks I made a mistake marrying you.  Technically, you did marry me because you were desperate.  Thank you.  Anytime.  I don’t understand why he never chooses me. I know I am 25. I know I should stop caring.  You don’t stop wanting your father to love you because you become 25.

 I hate crying.  Why?  It changes nothing.  No. But sometimes it helps you breathe.  [sighs]  I am tired, Chukwudi.  I know.  I am tired of fighting everybody.  [gasps]  Sorry.  For what?  This.  You are allowed to cry with your husband.  My fake husband.  Still a husband.   Please behave.

 I always behave.  No jokes.  I make no promises.  And don’t disappear.  Good morning, sir. And good morning, madam.  Why did he call you sir?  I am older than him.  He is at least 40.  Maybe I look mature.  Is that for senior management?  Is it? We can use that.  You are strange.  I have heard that before.

Mrs. Nwosu, we reviewed your proposal carefully.  We appreciate the opportunity. Chukwudingwatsu is here?  He may be.  You should meet him.  [cough]  Why?  You have the same name.  Very common name.  Nwosu?  Extremely common. I need the bathroom. The chairman had to leave for another meeting.  We missed him.

 Terrible luck. Tell Mr. Nwosu that Emeka Obi is here.  Do you have an appointment?  He knows me. Mr. Okeke.  Yes. I was hoping to see your chairman.  Do you have an appointment?  No, but Chukwudi and I know each other.  You do?  Of course. Interesting. Just tell him I am here.  I am afraid the chairman is unavailable.

 He’ll see me.  No.  You find something funny?  Nothing.  You should make an appointment next time.  [laughter]   We have a problem. What happened? The safety approval for the Riverside project has been withdrawn.  What?  They claim there are serious concerns.  That site passed the first inspection.

 I know. If we lose Riverside, the whole Nwosu Group agreement could be reviewed. What do you want?  I heard about your project.  How?  People talk.  Did you have something to do with it?  You always think I am the enemy.  Because you keep behaving like one.  I can make the problem disappear.  How?  You know how.

 No.  Leave that good-for-nothing husband of yours.  Emeka.  Come back to me. We fix the marriage. My family supports your company.  You did this.  I said I can fix it.  That means you did it.  Believe whatever you want.  I will lose the contract before I return to you.  I can fix it.  How?  I know people.

 Your mysterious construction worker connections again?  Something like that.  I appreciate it, but this is bigger than you.  All right.  Obinna, the Riverside approval is stuck.  I know someone in the approval office.  Can you ask what happened?  I’ll make a call.  Thank you.  Find out who stopped the approval.

Someone connected to Emeka pushed for the approval to be reviewed. If there is a real problem, fix it. And if there isn’t, clear the project immediately.  What? The approval is back.    You did it.  I only made one call.  Thank you. Chikodi, the approval is back.  I know.  Obinna fixed it.  No, he didn’t. I made a call.

   So did I.  To who?  People.  Of course, your people.  Yes.  What?  Nothing.  Don’t be jealous.  I am not jealous.  You are.   No.  You have that face.  What face?  The Obinna face.  [laughter]  Mama Nkiru?  My daughter.  It has been a long time.  I know.  That is why I am calling.

 What happened?  It is about your mother’s necklace.  What necklace?  The green one. The emerald necklace you used to wear.  What about it?  I went to the house yesterday. Madam Gozie was clearing some things.  And? I heard her discussing the necklace.  Discussing it with who?  A jewelry dealer.

 Where is my mother’s necklace?  What necklace?  The emerald necklace.  I don’t know.  Don’t lie to me.  Watch your tone.  That necklace belonged to Mommy.  I know.  Where is it?  You took it.  I did not take anything.  I sold it.  You what?  It was sitting there doing nothing.  You had no right.

 You don’t even live here anymore.  That does not make her things yours.  It is just a necklace.  Not to me.  I sold it to a dealer.  When?   Some weeks ago.  Who? Mommy loved it.  I’ll find  it.  You can’t fix everything.  I can try.  He always wants to fix what hurts me.  How much do you want to spend? Whatever it takes.

She wants one piece of her mother back.    I am bringing it home. The necklace was sold to a private dealer. The dealer has now placed it in an auction.    When?  Tomorrow. Get us in.  I can afford up to this amount.  What if it goes higher?  Then I stop.  What are you doing here? Oh.

Please don’t turn my mother’s necklace into another competition. She is really doing this just because she knows I want it.  Amanda.  What?  This is becoming expensive.  I want it.  You don’t even like emeralds.  not want the necklace. He only wants me not to have it.  Stop.  What?  Let me.  You cannot afford this.

 I’ll manage.  Chukwudi.  Let it go.  Fine.  Sold.  What have you done?  Bought your necklace.  With what money?  Money.  Chukwudi, this is not funny.  Congratulations, Mr. Nwosu.  There is a problem.  What problem?  My husband cannot pay that amount.  Actually, madam, payment has already been completed.

 Completed? What?  The full payment was made from Mr. Chukwudi Nwosu’s account.  Mr. Chukwudi Nwosu’s account? Which Chukwudi Nwosu?  Your husband, madam.    Welcome home, sir.  Welcome home?  Chairman.  Chairman? Chairman of what?  Coward. Nwosu Group.  No. No.  If Ananya.  No. My brain is not accepting this.

 You are Chukwudi Nwosu.  Yes.  The Chukwudi Nwosu?  Yes.  The billionaire? The one I asked you about?  Yes.  The man you told me you were.  Yes.  You were serious.  I was.  The designer, the restaurant, the property discount, the workers greeting him. Nwosu Group.  Kini,  the contract, Riverside.

 You own that development.  Yes.  The house.  Yes.  The restaurant.  My company has an interest in it.  The 3-year contract. Please don’t tell me you bought that for me, too. You gave us that contract.  No. I made sure your proposal received a fair review. Your company won it.  That distinction does not immediately comfort me. You interfered.

 I stopped other people from quietly pushing your company out. I did not change the scores.  You let me think it was luck.  Your company deserved the contract.  And you never told me you were involved.  No, I didn’t.    You let me buy you clothes. Don’t you dare smile. I bought you suits.  Yes.

 I bought you a house.  Yes.  I got you a job.  I remember.  I was trying to rescue a billionaire. I paid you a salary. You stood there and collected 500,000 every month when you own all this?  I didn’t spend it.  That is not the point.  I know.  You let me think you were struggling.  I tried to tell you.

 When?  At the property development. I told you exactly who I was.  I thought you were joking.  That part is not entirely my fault.  You also let me think you were a male prostitute.  That one  Exactly.  I could have corrected that sooner.  Sooner?  Yes.  You should have corrected it immediately.

 You looked so sure. Okay. I deserve that.  This is unbelievable.  Ifeananya.  Why?  My surname changes people. The moment some people hear in Wasu, they change how they speak to me, how they smile, what they want.  So, you tested me.  No.  Then what was this?  I didn’t plan any of it. You met me when you thought I was just Chukwudi.

You thought I was poor.  Poor was not the only thing I thought.  You thought I was doing things I definitely was not doing.  I said I am sorry about that.  I know. But, you were still kind to me. You never treated me like I was beneath you. You did that when you thought I had nothing. Just like before.  Before?  We’ll talk about that another day.

 More secrets?  No, more important ones.  That is not comforting. That is not comforting. Mummy, I thought I had lost this forever.  I also returned the money.  What money?  Everything you spent on the house and clothes. It has been transferred back.  And the salary?  I kept that.  Chukwudi.  I like my salary.

 I would remember another ridiculous thing he did and start laughing. Then I would remember he lied to me and become angry again. The money changed what I knew about him. It did not change him. He is still the man who sat with me when I cried, the man who defended me, the man who helped me without making me feel useless.

 You know what annoys me most?  What?  I still like you.  That sounds serious.  Don’t enjoy it.  Too late.  Chukwudi.  What?  When did you design this?  Years ago. I was still studying.  You are sure?  I think I remember my own work.  Amanda recently won an important young architects design award.

 Let me see that winning design again. They are almost identical.  Where did you get that?  Amanda.  She copied this.  She won an award with it.  I still have the original files. If she copied my student work, the dates will prove it.  So, anybody could have found it online.  Yes.  Amanda probably thought it was old enough and far enough away that nobody here would recognize it.

 She was wrong.  Then we find out exactly what she did. If Amanda stole this design, I want proof strong enough that she cannot lie her way out of it. Can we meet? Fine.    If Ennanya, I don’t want us fighting forever. Then tell me where you got your award design. I designed it. No, you didn’t.

 I have seen the original. It belongs to Chukwudi. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Then you won’t mind if I take the original files to the award committee. You should have left this alone. I barely touched  it. Careful. What did you do? Maybe you should rest. Obinna will come. And one photograph can tell whatever story people want to believe.

The photographer is already outside.  Amanda, what happened?  I don’t know. She suddenly became like this.  Call a doctor.  I have to go.  What? Why is Are you leaving now?  [sighs]  The doctor is only a few minutes away. Her breathing  is normal, but she is barely conscious. He said not to drive her across town unless her condition changes.

 My house is close.    Just stay with me. The doctor is coming.  She appears to have been drugged. Someone did this to her. She’s stable, but we must watch her closely. If she worsens, she needs immediate hospital care.  I don’t believe she cheated. I need to know what happened to her. Do you want me to find out where she is? I already know.

 Obinna, open up. We need to talk.  I expected you. Where is Ifunanya?  Sleeping.  What happened?  If you came here to accuse her of cheating, leave.  I asked what happened.  She was drugged.  What? Drugged?  I found her barely conscious.  Where?  At the lounge where she met Amanda. A doctor came last night.

 She has been asleep since.  Amanda, why didn’t you call me?  I didn’t know what was in her system. I was dealing with the doctor.  You should have called me.  And you should trust your wife.  I do.  Then why are you standing here looking like you want to kill somebody?  Because someone drugged her.  If you had come here believing those pictures, I would have thrown you out myself.

 You?  Yes. Ifunanya is beginning to wake.  The pictures.  I’ve seen them.  Chikodi, nothing happened.  I know.  You believe me?  Of course. What happened?  Amanda.  You’re sure?  She put something in my drink.  I am calling the police.  Wait.  She drugged you.  I know.  She could have killed you.

 I know. I am not saying we should ignore it.    Then what are you saying?  Keep the medical report. Keep every piece of evidence. But do not confront her yet.  Why?  Because Amanda knows something.  About what?  My mother. There is something I never told you. Everyone accepted that Mommy killed herself. I never did.

She was unhappy. Daddy’s affair destroyed her. She cried. She became quiet, but she was not giving up.  How do you know?  Because she had plans. She was planning a new company project. She had already booked a trip for us. She was also talking to lawyers. Mommy was preparing for a future.  About your father?  She wanted to remove Ebuka from major company decisions.

 And then she died.  Yes.  Why do you suspect Ngozi?  Because Mommy discovered more things about her before she died.    What things?  I don’t know everything. But Amanda knows something. I can feel it.  We will find  out. Keep the medical evidence. Watch Amanda quietly. Do not scare her into destroying whatever proof she has.

 But no more going to meet Amanda alone.  I can handle her.  That is not the point.  Chikodi.  No. You don’t have to prove you are strong by putting yourself in danger.  I promise. You came. Of course. You know, this award must be painful for you.  Why? You entered two and you came third. I won.  Not so fast, Amanda.

 What is that?  You’ll see.  I knew it. Hard work matters. Talent matters. And you have to believe in yourself. She is standing there talking about hard work while accepting an award for someone else’s work. There is an issue we need to address.  No.  This is the original design.  That doesn’t prove  It proves everything.

 There is something else. Stories have been spreading about my wife. The night those photographs were taken, Ifeoma Nnenna was not having an affair. My wife needed medical help. Obinna Okoro gave it to her. And anyone who turned that into a cheating story knew exactly what they were doing.  Everything is falling apart.  What?  Nothing.

 You have been staring at me for 5 minutes.  There is something I need to understand. You believed me.  Why wouldn’t I?  Everybody else believed those pictures.  I am not everybody else.  I kept calling this temporary.  A contract, 5 months, then goodbye. But I stopped pretending a long time ago.

I love him.  What are you thinking?  Nothing you need to know yet.  Now you have secrets.  Maybe.  I’ll find out.  Try.  5 months passed. I stopped paying his ridiculous salary the moment I discovered who he really was. But neither of us filed for divorce. Our 5 months ended last week.  Yes.  Are you not going to say anything?  What would you like me to say?  I don’t know.

 Do you want a divorce?  Do you?  No.    Then stop asking dangerous questions.   The Wazobia contract gave us breathing room, but I still wanted Chioma Designs to recover because of our work, not because of my husband’s name. And every day our marriage felt less like an arrangement.

Nnamdi Okafor, Madam Chioma’s former vice president. He still has shares and influence on the board. And he never wanted Ifunanya CEO.  We have the votes.  You are sure?  Ifunanya has embarrassed the company enough.  They are planning to remove her.  What about the Wazobia contract? Contracts can disappear.

She’s too young. Her marriage is a scandal. Her personal life is everywhere.  They are ready to damage the company just to get rid of her.  And after  she is removed, you return to control.  Ifunanya needs to hear this before they make their move. My own father. What do you want to do? Find out everything about Nnamdi.

If he wants my company, I want to know exactly who he is first. Several young women resigned suddenly. Others received promotions that do not make sense. This is a pattern.  Hello, it’s Ade Noahfo from Chioma Designs.  I see. Thank you for your time. Hello, Ade Noahfo again. You will, that’s wonderful.  Nnamdi used his position to pressure women who worked under him. Yes, he did.

Some of us were harassed. Some said he touched them or forced himself on them. If you decide to take action, do you want the company to support you? Yes. The decision has to be yours. My job is to make sure you are not standing alone. Daddy gave Amanda a business development and procurement role.

 She had access to vendors, invoices, project payments, money. You see it, too. Amanda. She did more than steal Chigozie’s design, more than sleep with a maker, more than drug me. She has been taking money from Mommy’s company. This is my company.  I know.  I need to handle this.  I also know.  I need to win this without hiding behind your name.

 So, don’t suddenly arrive with 20 lawyers and buy the whole building.  I have never done that.  Yet.  Call me if you need me.  I will. They look very confident. Let them. They came here expecting to remove me. Good.  I believe we should begin.  Please.  We all know why we are here. The company has faced several embarrassing situations since Ifunanya became CEO.

Her marriage became public gossip. There were allegations about another man. Our projects have suffered delays. Her judgment has become questionable. I am therefore proposing that we remove Ifunanya as our chief executive until the company becomes stable again. Before we vote, shouldn’t Ifunanya be allowed to respond? Of course.

 I have a few things to show everyone. The first is the company’s financial performance before I became CEO. For years, I was told the company was failing because I was inexperienced. These losses started before I took control. I did not create it. And since I became CEO, we have secured a three-year contract with Mosu Group, recovered two former clients, and reduced our outstanding debt.

 That does not erase your personal scandals.  Exactly. A responsible woman does not bring this kind of shame to her mother’s name. I know what I must do. Ngozi.  What?  How many shares do you own in this company?  What does that have to do with anything?  Just answer. None. Are you a director?  No.

 An employee?  No.  Then why are you sitting in my board meeting?  Ebuka invited me.  Daddy.  She is my wife.  This is not a family dinner.  You cannot embarrass me like this.  I didn’t embarrass you. You entered a meeting you have no right to attend. Security.  You are throwing me out?  Yes. Ifunanya, please escort Mrs.

 Eze outside.  You would actually humiliate me in front of everyone. You can’t do this to my mother.  You are a shareholder through Daddy’s family trust. You can stay.  You will regret this.  This only proves my point. You are emotional.  No. I am following company rules.  Then let us vote.

 All in favor of removing  Perfect timing.  What is this, Mr. Nnamdi Okafor?  Yes?  We need you to come with us.  For what?  Several complaints have been filed against you by former employees. There are also financial matters under investigation.  This is nonsense.  You?  Yes.  You did this?  No. They did. I gave them support.

 They found the courage themselves. We are not finished. This can’t be happening. For the past few years, money has been leaking this company through false project expenses.  What money?  Several million. Some payments were approved by people who no longer work here. Others were moved through outside companies, and some lead back to you.

 That is a lie.  Then explain the account.  I don’t know anything about it. Amanda.  Is this true?  Daddy, she is trying to destroy me. I didn’t transfer company money.  Can we handle this privately?  Why?  Amanda is your sister.  And?  Don’t do this to her.  After everything Amanda did, you are still asking me to protect her.

 She slept with my fiance. She drugged me. She stole someone else’s design and used it to win an award, and you still want me to pretend none of it happened. And now there is evidence that she took money from Mommy’s company. I did not force Amanda to do any of those things. She did them herself.  Wait. Please. What? You cannot give those records to the police.

 Why? I can pay it back.  With what?  I’ll find the money.  That is not the point. Ifunanya, please. If you want me to listen to you, answer one question.  What? What really happened to my mother?  I don’t know.  You do.  No.    You are afraid. You know something.  I don’t.   If Mommy killed herself, why does that question frighten you?  I said I don’t know.

 Did you have something to do with her death?  I didn’t kill Aunt Chioma.  I never said you killed her.  Then who did?  If it wasn’t you, who was it?  I can’t.  Was it your mother?  Amanda.    I need time.  For what?  I need to find something.  What?  I said I need time.  I will bring you proof.

 When?  Soon.  If you are lying to me  I am not. I need to speak to Mommy before Ifunanya finds anything else.  Still working?  Yes. Give it back.  No.  Chukwudi.  You have been working since 6:00 this morning.  I have things to do.  And today is your 26th birthday.  I don’t celebrate my birthday.

 I know. Come with me.  Where?  Trust me.  That has caused me serious problems before.  Still came out well.  Chikodi.  No party.  I can see that.  I know you hate parties around this time.  Mommy died close to my birthday. After that, celebrating never felt right.  I have something for you.  These are beautiful.

 They are yours.  Thank you. More?  These are not yours.  Whose are they?  Your mother’s.  Mommy.  I never met Chiyoma. But I know she gave me you. And wherever she is, I think she should know something.  What?  That her daughter is not alone. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.  You failed.  Sorry.

 Nobody has ever done this. For years, birthdays only reminded me that Mommy was gone. Tonight, you made room for her. This is so lovely.  It is. I’m glad we’re here.  [laughter]  You know what I used to hate about you?  Used to?  The way you always tried to fix everything.  I thought I was useful.

 I thought you wanted to rescue me.  I don’t.  I know that now. You stand beside me. You don’t make me feel weak when I need help.  You aren’t weak.  I know.  That is why I don’t have to keep  saying it. Are you sure?  I was sure the first night, too.  This time I am asking because I know you.

 And this time I am saying yes because I know you.  Happy birthday, wife.  Thank you, husband.  That sounded real.  Maybe it is. Hello.  Happy birthday, trouble.  Thank you, big head.  You sound happy.  I am.  Chikodi is there?  Yes.  Good.  Obinna  Don’t.  What?  Don’t start feeling sorry for me.

 I loved you. Maybe part of me always will, but I also know when somebody has already made a choice. Be happy, Iffy.   Thank you.  And tell your husband I still don’t like him.  Feeling is mutual. Auntie Nneka is Mommy’s older sister. After Mommy died, she helped raise me. She is the closest thing I still have to a mother.

Her heart has been troubling her again, but she hates being treated like a patient. There is a problem.   What did I do?  Nothing.  Then why do I feel accused?  Auntie Nneka is one of the few people I genuinely hate disappointing, especially when it comes to men. My aunt does not like extremely rich men.

 You are telling me this after marrying one?  Auntie watched Daddy use money like Mommy had nowhere else to go. She never forgot it. She knows you are successful. She doesn’t know the full billionaire part. She has been away from most of the gossip and I would like to keep it simple for one day.  You want me to lie again?  Not lie.

 What should I do?  Just don’t arrive with drivers, security, and chairman behavior.  So, what am I this week?  A normal husband.  Normal husband, fine. How difficult can that be? I have been a gigolo, construction worker, assistant architect, poor husband, and secret billionaire. And now normal husband.

 Exactly.  This marriage requires range.  [laughter]   My baby.  Auntie, I’m 26.  You will be my baby when you are 50. So, this is the husband.  Yes, Ma.  You are handsome.  I like her already.  [laughter]  So, Chikodi, what do you  I support my wife’s career.  That is not a job.  It takes a lot of time.

I also work in architecture.  Good. Can you cook?  Yes.  Wonderful. Tomorrow you will cook Ifunanya’s favorite soup.  Tomorrow?  Yes.  Of course. Why did I say yes? What is her favorite soup?  [gasps and laughter]  Tomorrow is going to be a disaster.  This cannot be right.  How is the billionaire chef doing?  Go away.

 What did you put inside?  Everything the cook told me.  That answer is not comforting.  What?  You almost put sugar in this.  I did not.  This is sugar.  Why do they look exactly the same? Why are sugar and salt living in identical containers?  Because normal people can tell them apart. Move.  No. Your aunt said I should cook.

 And I want to remain alive.  You don’t trust your husband?  Not in this kitchen.  Painful.  [laughter]  I knew it.  Auntie,  you two are cheating.  We prefer teamwork.  [laughter]  Oh, no. Chairman of Nosu Group?  Yes, ma.  I just found this online while searching my phone.

 You own several hotels?  Yes.  Property?  Yes.  Construction?  Yes.  And you didn’t tell me.  Auntie, I can explain.  Sit. Ebuka had money. He used it to behave like Chioma had nowhere to go. Money doesn’t frighten me. Cruelty does. If you love this girl, do not become another Ebuka. I won’t. Good. And tomorrow you are cooking again.

 [laughter]  Mommy, Daddy, you need to see this. If Ifunanya’s husband is Chukwudi Osu, chairman of Nwosu Group. That young man, the call boy? He’s a billionaire. Hotels, property, construction, investments. Ifunanya did not simply marry a rich man, she married power. And we thought he was a nobody. Chairman of Nwosu Group.

Ifunanya married a billionaire while I was laughing at her husband. This changes things. Why? Because men like him don’t only have money, they have lawyers, security, connections. Ifunanya is asking questions about Chioma’s death. And Chukwudi has hired private investigators. Money, lawyers, security, people who can dig into things I buried years ago. We cannot wait.

What do you want to do? Your sister needs to stop. Mommy, I had to rush over here. I have thought things over and I think it is time to tell Ifunanya the truth. Don’t ever say that again. Mommy, Ifunanya will destroy us. She already knows something. That is why we must act first. I found it.

 Found what? Proof about Aunt Chioma. What proof? Not on the phone. Where are you? I’m at 45 Glover Road. Amanda. You said you wanted the truth. I do. Then come. I promised him I would not meet Amanda alone. This is a mistake. Something feels wrong. Amanda. You did this? Amanda. I’m sorry. No, you aren’t. Let me go. You are going to sign this.

 You want me to transfer control of Mommy’s company to Daddy’s family trust. You have lost your mind. You will also withdraw every complaint against Amanda. No. Then you won’t leave. You know she is going to kill me. Mommy said I don’t care what she said. Enough. Fine. What? I’ll sign. Just like that? No. I want the truth. What truth? My mother.

I am giving you her company. The least you can do is tell me why she had to die. Mommy. Be quiet. You killed her. I did not plan to kill Chioma. She found out about the money. What money? The company money. Your mother discovered that I had been taking money through one of the contractors. She was going to expose me.

She was also going to remove your father from the company. And? We argued. What happened? Chioma became sick. What do you mean sick? She started having chest pain. There was medicine in her bag. You gave her something. What did you give her? The wrong medicine.  You poisoned my mother. It was a mistake. She was shouting.

 I was frightened. I picked the wrong tablets. And then? And then what? She became worse. Did you call an ambulance? Did you call anybody? No. Why? Because by then I understood what her death would mean. She would not expose me. She would not remove your father. And nobody would know what I had done. You watched her die afterwards.

 I made it look like she took her I placed the medicine where people would find it and told everyone she had been sinking into depression.  You knew. Not then. When? Years later. And you protected her.  I was scared.  I will never sign.  Then you have made this difficult.  Too long. Something is wrong. Find her.

 What happened?   Her phone is off.  We can trace the last location.  I’m on it.  That is her last signal. We have the location. I’m on my way.  Last chance.  No. Mummy, stop.  Move.  No.  You wanted this, too.  I didn’t want her dead. We can leave.  Where?  I don’t know.  The police are already looking at you for fraud.

 Where exactly do you think we are going?  Mummy, please.  Ifunanya.  PLAN TO MOVE BACK.  CHUKWUDI.  STOP. POLICE.  [screaming]  YOU’RE OKAY?  YOU ARE ASKING ME?  Had to check.  Don’t close your eyes.  Ifunanya.  Don’t. I love you.  Say it later.  No. I love you.  Good.  Chukwudi. I won’t leave you, Chukwudi. You have to wake up.

 [sighs]  You look terrible. Wrong patient.  You nearly died.  But I didn’t.  I hate you.  You said something different yesterday.  You heard me?  Some of it. Say it again.  No.  If you Nnanya.  No.  I can wait.  I love you.  I love you, too. So much.  Chukwudi’s mother.  I investigated you.

 I expected you had.  I know you did not marry my son for money. I know about your company. Your inheritance. Your own money. My problem is not your financial position.  Then what is your problem?  My son nearly died.  I was kidnapped.  And he was injured because of it.  I did not ask him to come.

 That is worse.  Since you entered his life, there have been scandals, family fights, attempted sabotage, and now kidnapping.  That isn’t fair.  No, it is not. I almost lost my only son.  I love him.  I know.  I would never hurt him.  I know.  Then what do you want from me?  Leave him.  No. You cannot decide who Chukwudi loves.

I am his mother.  And I am his wife. You cannot buy me off. No.  You haven’t seen the amount.    I don’t need to.  Everybody has a price.  I don’t. If I wanted Chukwudi’s money, I already have access to more than that. Aunty Nneka.  The tests show her heart condition is worse. She needs a specialist experienced in a difficult procedure.

 Waiting list.  I’ll check again.  Again? I know the specialist. He treated a family friend.  What do you want? You already know. No. I will find another doctor.  Maybe. But how long do you want to gamble with her life? I will find another way.  Auntie! I am running out of time.    Why are you crying?  I am not.

 You were always a bad liar. Don’t be afraid.  I’m terrified. If I leave him, you help Neka.  Yes. The specialist sees her immediately.  Yes.  I will handle everything.  You are asking me to break your son’s heart.  I am trying to keep him alive.  You think loving me will kill him? I think staying around your family almost did.

 There is one more thing. Chukwudi must never find out about this.  You are asking me to lie to him?  If he knows, he will stop this and try to arrange Neka’s treatment himself. And Neka does not have time for us to start fighting over who saves her.  What do I need to do?  No. If Enanya, pick up. You don’t send me divorce papers and disappear.

Where is she?  I don’t know.  Don’t lie to me.  She left.  Where?  She didn’t tell me.  What happened?  She only said she needed time away.  She sent divorce documents. Then I need to hear it from her. Why?  We made an agreement.  Don’t do that.  Five months.  Don’t.  It was always supposed to end.

 Not like this.  Chukwudi.  You told me you loved me.  I do.  Then come home.  I can’t. Maybe love isn’t enough.  Look me in the eyes and tell me that.  I can’t.  Exactly.  Auntie survived. She believed Ifeoma helped because she felt guilty about Chukwudi. She never knew my marriage was the price.

Chioma Designs became stable. A Daisy grew into a senior role. I stayed involved from a distance and slowly returned to the work I loved. Her confession, the kidnap evidence, and the old financial records were enough. Ngozi was convicted for what she did to Mommy, the kidnapping, attempted murder, and fraud.

These prove her involvements. This is critical. Thank  you. Amanda eventually gave evidence against her mother. Her cooperation reduced her sentence, but she still went to prison.  For the first time, I have no control over the company Chioma built.  I am reaping the fruits of my stupidity. I’ve lost all my family.

Ngozi. The woman I betrayed Chioma for. She watched Chioma die. I failed both of them, and I’ve been so oblivious to the truth.  Emeka’s role in sabotaging company projects became public. His family’s business suffered. His family’s business suffered. Clients stopped trusting him.  The man who said marriage was business finally learned what happens when people stop wanting to do business with you.

You okay, trouble?  I’m okay, big head. Obinna checked on me sometimes. He never pushed. He never tried to make friendship into something more again.  You still love me. But you are asking me to stop. Three months without her. Work. Travel. Keep moving. But not on.  He still respects me. But he does not come close anymore.

I separated him from the woman he loved and made him a shell of himself.  You made that girl leave her husband to save me?  I was afraid for my son.  And you let me think you helped because you were sorry? Nneka, you will tell Chuku Dee.  I know.  What is it, Mom?  I was wrong. I thought I was protecting you.

 I was afraid.  You had no right.  I know.  Do you?  Yes, I lost you anyway.  You didn’t lose me.  I did. I separated you from the woman you loved. And for 3 months you have treated me like someone you have to respect instead of someone you want close. Ife Nanya did not leave because she stopped loving you.

 What?  Nneka needed that specialist. I told Ife Nanya I would arrange the treatment if she left you.  You did that?  I was frightened.  3 months?  I know.  You let me believe she chose to leave me.  I am sorry. I don’t know if you will forgive me.  Neither do I. I already know where she is. What I was missing was the truth.

 No. He cannot be here. What are you doing here?  I’ve been asking myself whether I should come here for 3 months.  Chuku Dee.  Hello, wife.  Don’t.  We are still legally married.  You didn’t sign.  No.  Why?  Because I knew you were lying. My mother told me everything.  When?  Recently.  I am sorry.

 For leaving?  Yes.  For deciding my life for me?  Yes.  For making me spend 3 months wondering what I had done wrong?  Yes.  I would have found another doctor.  I know.  I would have done anything.  I know.  Then why didn’t you let me?  Because Eneka was dying. I was frightened.

 I had already watched my mother die. I couldn’t watch her, too. I made the wrong choice.  You made a frightened choice.  That doesn’t make it fair to you.  No.  I know.  I brought something.  What is that?  Do you remember Abuja?  Abuja?  Five years before the hotel. A 23-year-old man whose phone and wallet had been stolen.

 He was stranded somewhere he didn’t know. He asked people for help.  No.  One woman stopped. She gave him transport money.  That was you?  Yes.  No.  Yes.  You were that man.  The miserable one beside the road.  Oh my god.  You said that the morning after our first night, too.  Chukwudi. You recognized me at the hotel.

 Almost immediately.  And you didn’t say anything.  No.  Why?  Because I wanted to know you.  You could have introduced yourself like a normal person.  I was going to. You decided I was a male prostitute. I got distracted.  I cannot believe you still remember that.  I have the money, too.  You kept it?  Of course.

 You are sick.  I am sentimental. That day in Abuja, you didn’t know my surname. You thought I was just a stranded man. When I saw you five years later, I remembered you. And when you offered me that ridiculous marriage, I wanted one chance to know the woman I had never forgotten.  You should have told me.

 Yes.  There were too many secrets.  Yes.  I need time.  I have waited three months. I can wait another day.  No more.  No more secrets.  No more pretending to be poor. No disappearing. We face it together.  Agreed.  And  no allowing me to find out something huge by accident.  Agreed.

 And I won’t run away again. If there’s a problem, I tell you.  Yes.  If I am scared, I tell you. If I think leaving is best  I lock the door.  I am serious.  So am I.  I don’t need you anymore.  That is a terrible reconciliation speech.  Listen. When I married you, I needed a husband.  Yes.  I needed the company.

 Yes.  I thought I needed somebody to help me escape Emeka and my father. But now the company is safe. Emeka is healthy. And Oge cannot hurt me.    Emeka is gone. I can live without you. But I don’t want to. Those months without you felt like hell.  That is better.  I choose you because I love you.

 I love you, too.  Still?  Unfortunately.     Our celebration at last.  If Enanya, your flowers are too many.  You said you liked them.  I liked them before I saw the bill.  [laughter]  I want you to know something.  What?  If you disappear from Lọ́wọ́ Group again because of this marriage, I am resigning.

 You have been saying that for a long time. One day I will mean it. Feed my fish tomorrow. I hate you. After all these years, I am  still feeding those fish.  [laughter]  You look happy.  I am.  Still don’t like him.  You two need help.  Take care of yourself, trouble.  You too, big head.   If you hurt her 3 months and you still have this speech? I prepared it when we were 14. Fair.

 I owe you an apology. You already apologized to Chukwudi. I hurt you, too. I used Eneka’s illness to force you away from your husband. Fear does not excuse that. I hope one day you can forgive me.  I am trying.  That is enough.  You look like your mother. I am sorry.   For what?  There is too much to list.

I failed Chioma.  And I failed you. I don’t expect you to forgive me because I said sorry.    Good.  I just want a chance to become a better father, even if it is late.  A chance? That is all I can give you.  I’ll take it.  Some wounds need more than one conversation. Amanda was still serving her sentence.

Maybe one day we would speak again. Maybe we would  never become the sisters we should have been. Her consequences were hers now.  Mrs. Nwosu, Chukwudi Nwosu’s wife.  I am also Ifunanya Nwosu, CEO of Chioma Designs.  Of course, my apologies. A pleasure to meet you. You rejected my proposal.  It was overpriced.

 My company has excellent standards.  Your company also likes money too much.  I am offended.  Reduce the cost.  You are a terrible wife.  And a very good CEO.  That you are. Marrying the CEO did not help me at all.  Chukwudi.  What did I do?  Oh, you kept this?  Yes.  Why?  Memories.  This is the money I gave you because I thought you were a gigolo.

 Yes.  You should have thrown it away.  Never.  Why?  This was the first money my wife ever paid me.  I was not your wife then.    Future wife.  Give it back.  No.  It is my money.  You paid for a service and I serviced you well.  Chukwudi Wasu, come back here.  [laughter]  Give me my money.

 No.  With interest.  That will be expensive.  You can afford it.  Maybe we can make another arrangement.  What arrangement?    You know our original husband contract was never really terminated.  So?  A lifetime extension.  That was terrible.  You smiled.  I did not.  You did.  What?  Nothing.

 No contract, no deadline, no money, no pretending, just Ifeanyi and Chukwudi together for real.