CHAPTER ONE
The Queens and the Keys
Champagne glasses clinked softly under the afternoon sun as three women stood like judges at the edge of the estate road.
Vanessa King leaned casually against the sleek black gate of her duplex, her lips curved in a satisfied smile. Beside her were Tara Bello—perfectly dressed, perfectly amused—and Dami Oja, whose expression didn’t quite match the celebration in her hand.
Across the road, a moving truck swallowed the last of a family’s furniture. Suitcases were dragged. A child looked back one final time. Then the gate closed.
Vanessa raised her glass. “Another department of matchsticks,” she said coolly, swirling her champagne. “They finally learned not to play with fire.”
Tara laughed, light and mocking. “We’ll miss them,” she said with exaggerated sadness, placing a hand on her chest. “Who will provide free entertainment now?”
Dami hesitated. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “It still feels… harsh. They were just—”
Vanessa turned to her sharply. “Naïve,” she cut in. “And now they know better than to mess with the Big Three.”
She lifted her glass higher. Tara followed immediately. After a brief pause, Dami did too.
“To standards,” Tara said.
“To respect,” Vanessa added.
They drank.
Behind the estate’s glossy walls, silence settled—waiting for the next story to begin.
Nnamdi Chukwu had been smiling since morning.
The kind of smile that refused to leave, no matter how much Lola complained from the back seat.
“Baby, how far now?” Lola asked for the third time in two minutes, tugging at the blindfold covering her eyes. “I can’t see, I can’t breathe, and my neck is killing me.”
“Patience,” Nnamdi said cheerfully. “Patience is a virtue.”
“This virtue will kill me,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
The car finally slowed, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
“We’re here,” Nnamdi announced.
The driver opened the door, and Nnamdi gently helped Lola out. She stood there, tapping her foot impatiently, her beautiful fascinator perfectly perched on her head, elegance dripping from every detail of her outfit.
“Can I look now?” she asked.
“Yes.”
The blindfold came off.
Lola screamed.
“Baby!” she shouted, spinning around as her eyes took in the massive duplex before her. Cream walls. Tall windows. A driveway that looked like it belonged in a movie.
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Nnamdi… what is this?”
He grinned proudly. “This,” he said loudly, “is bigger than the one we have in Alaba, baby!”
Lola froze.
She grabbed his arm and hissed softly, “Shhh. Lower your voice.”
He blinked. “Why?”
“It’s a new era now,” she said carefully, glancing around. “New environment. We cannot be shouting about Alaba here. Your sense of style, your fashion, your communication—everything needs to be toned down. Okay? It’s a different era, baby.”
Nnamdi stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll try and change.”
“As long as you can,” she said seriously.
He pulled her close, kissed her deeply, then gave her a playful smack on the backside. Lola gasped, then laughed, swatting his arm.
“Behave yourself!”
He turned to the driver. “Tell the movers to be very careful with our things. Very careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And go bring the other cars. The G-Wagon especially.”
He took Lola’s hand and led her inside.
The door opened.
“Baby!” Lola screamed again.
The house swallowed her whole—high ceilings, soft lighting, a staircase that curved like a promise. She spun slowly, taking it all in, her laughter filling the empty space.
“This is ours?” she whispered.
Nnamdi watched her, his chest swelling with pride.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Welcome home.”
Neither of them noticed the champagne glasses across the road.
But the estate had already noticed them.
