The conference room of the Lagos Chamber of Commerce was designed to intimidate. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, marble tables gleamed under recessed lighting, and the air conditioning was cold enough to make visitors grateful for the wool suits most attendees wore. It was the kind of room where billionaires made decisions that affected millions, and where people like Elian Athen were supposed to feel small.
He didn't.
He arrived at 9:55, five minutes before the scheduled negotiation, dressed in a simple but impeccable native agbada. No power suit. No designer watch. Just the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was and what he carried.
The negotiation had been called to resolve a long-standing dispute about government infrastructure contracts. On one side: a
