CONTRACTS AND CONSEQUENCES

Lagos never slept. Even at eight in the morning, the city hummed with chaos. Horns blared in unison with the roar of motorcycles weaving through endless traffic. Street vendors shouted over the noise, selling everything from fresh plantains to hand-carved wooden souvenirs. And somewhere above all of it, towering over the chaos like a silent guardian, stood Lawson Luxury Holdings, the company her father had built from a small fabric shop into a multi-million-naira empire. Adebola Lawson stood before the gleaming glass building, her heels clicking against the polished pavement. The morning sun reflected sharply, forcing her to squint, but she didn’t move. She just stared, letting the weight of the reality settle in: this was now her responsibility. Three weeks ago, her life had been simple. London. Fashion school. Cafés and late-night creative brainstorms. A world where her biggest challenge was picking the right shade of fabric for her designs. Now, everything had changed. Her father’s sudden stroke had thrown her into a role she never asked for: Acting Managing Director of Lawson Luxury Holdings. Adebola swallowed. Her heart pounded like it was trying to escape her chest. She adjusted her navy-blue blazer and tugged the strap of her leather handbag higher on her shoulder. She had to look composed, confident, in control. Her father would have wanted that. “Madam Adebola?” The voice jolted her out of her thoughts. It was her father’s secretary, a petite woman with worry etched into every line of her face. “The board… they’re waiting. You should go in now.” Adebola nodded, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Thank you.” The elevator doors slid open with a whisper, and she stepped inside. Her reflection stared back at her — poised, calm, composed. A perfect mask. Beneath it, though, her stomach churned with fear and anticipation. She had never felt so small in her life. When she arrived at the boardroom, the door opened, and the entire room fell silent. Ten pairs of eyes, sharp and unyielding, turned to her. Executives, investors, and senior managers. They had all known her since she was a child — Adebola, her father’s daughter. But today, they weren’t looking at the little girl who sometimes tripped over her words. They were looking at a woman expected to save a multi-million-naira empire. She walked toward the head of the table — the seat her father always occupied — and felt a chill run down her spine. This was her throne now, and the crown felt heavy. Then she saw him. At the far end of the table, sitting calmly, was a man she didn’t recognize. He wore a charcoal gray suit, immaculately tailored, with a posture that radiated power without effort. His sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on her for just a moment, and she felt exposed. It was as if he could see straight into her thoughts, past the façade she had so carefully built. “Adebola, welcome,” one of the senior board members said stiffly. “Before we begin, allow me to introduce Chinedu Okafor, the Chief Financial Consultant your father personally hired before his hospitalization.” The man stood slowly. Tall, composed, every movement deliberate. “Chinedu Okafor,” he said, voice smooth and controlled. Adebola nodded, forcing a polite smile, though something about him unsettled her. There was a confidence in him that bordered on arrogance — calm, commanding, almost untouchable. The meeting began. And almost immediately, Chinedu took control. He spoke with precision, outlining financial discrepancies, underperforming departments, and investments that were bleeding money. Each statistic, each chart, felt like a personal attack, though she knew logically it wasn’t. She scribbled notes furiously, trying not to let her panic show. Her mind raced. How could her father trust someone so… intimidating? Chinedu looked up at her once, his gaze steady, unwavering. “If these issues aren’t addressed immediately, Lawson Holdings could collapse in under six months.” Adebola’s fingers clenched around her pen. “Six months?” she asked sharply. “Are you saying all this… now?” He shrugged slightly. “I’m saying it because your father believed in you, Adebola. Whether you like it or not, this company depends on your decisions.” Her chest tightened. She hated that his words made her feel so small. But she lifted her chin, trying to summon the confidence she didn’t fully feel. “Then we fix it,” she said, voice firmer than she thought possible. He tilted his head slightly, as if assessing her. And then, faintly, almost imperceptibly, he smiled. “I like your determination,” he said. And just like that, he walked away, leaving her standing in the boardroom with a million questions and a storm of emotions she couldn’t yet name. After the meeting, Adebola retreated to her office, closing the door behind her. She sank into the leather chair, her head in her hands. The city outside buzzed with life, oblivious to the chaos in her own heart. How could she manage this empire when she barely understood it herself? Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock. “Come in,” she said, not bothering to straighten herself. Chinedu entered, carrying a tablet and a calm aura that seemed impossible for anyone to ignore. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “But we need to review the cash flow projections for the next quarter.” Adebola swallowed. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she admitted, her voice softer than intended. He sat across from her, calm, focused. “No one is ever ready. You adapt. You make the hard decisions. That’s what leaders do.” Her chest tightened. Leader. The word felt heavy, almost foreign. She wanted to argue, to push back, but she knew he was right. Hours passed as they pored over numbers, projections, and potential investments. Chinedu questioned every assumption, challenged every decision, and forced Adebola to think faster than she ever had before. By the end, her mind was exhausted, but something had shifted. For the first time, she realized she might not be entirely alone in this. And yet… there was a tension she couldn’t ignore. Every glance, every subtle assessment from him carried an unspoken message: he didn’t fully trust her. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely on her side. As the office emptied, Adebola stared out of the window, watching Lagos pulse beneath her. She felt small, vulnerable… and alive in a way she hadn’t before. And deep down, a thought kept echoing: Chinedu Okafor might be my only chance to save this company… or the biggest mistake I will ever make. The city continued to hum outside, indifferent to the chaos, ambition, and secrets that waited inside Lawson Luxury Holdings.