CHAPTER FOUR
1092 Words
CHAPTER FOUR
Welcome Without Warmth
Lola folded her arms lightly and smiled—slow, deliberate, dangerous.
“Apologies accepted,” she said sweetly. “So tell me, how may I be of help to the Powerpuff Girls?”
Tara blinked. Vanessa’s jaw tightened. Dami inhaled sharply, as though bracing herself.
“Well,” Dami said carefully, stepping forward again, “we actually came to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Lola’s eyes dropped to their hands. Empty. Not even a token gift bag. She looked back up, genuinely curious.
“Empty-handed?” she asked. “I mean… wife of an international business mogul?” Her brows lifted. “That’s quite beneath you, don’t you think?”
Vanessa scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“The last time I visited a new neighbor,” Lola continued calmly, “I went with a basket of fruits—at the very least. Pineapple, apples, maybe a bottle of wine. Something to say, welcome, we see you.”
She shrugged. “But anyway, thank you for stopping by. Empty-handed.”
Dami opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“Would that be all?” Lola added, glancing back toward the staircase. “Because I need to shower my husband with kisses. You don’t get gifts like this every day, you know.”
From upstairs, Nnamdi grinned, leaning further over the railing.
Tara cleared her throat. “Uh, well… we’re actually having a residents’ meeting this Saturday. At Vanessa’s house.”
Vanessa lifted her chin, regaining her composure. “Yes. Attendance is… expected. Since you’re now one of us.”
Lola smiled wider.
“Like you?” she asked lightly. “You’re right. I’m a resident now, so of course I’ll attend. This meeting, and many more to come.”
She clasped her hands together. “So thank you very much, Madam Vanessa—and her minion friends.”
Tara gasped softly. Dami looked mortified.
“I look forward to seeing you some other time,” Lola continued pleasantly. “But right now, I need to go be with my king.”
She stepped back, hand on the door. “Okay then. Have a good day, ladies.”
And with that—
She closed the door in their faces.
The silence that followed was loud.
Vanessa stared at the door as though it had personally insulted her ancestors.
“Did she—” Tara began.
“She slammed the door,” Vanessa finished, her voice ice-cold. “In our faces.”
Dami exhaled slowly. “Maybe we came on too strong.”
Vanessa turned sharply. “No. She was disrespectful.”
“She was… confident,” Dami corrected quietly.
Vanessa ignored her, already pulling out her phone. “Saturday will be very interesting.”
Inside the house, Lola leaned against the door and burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” she whispered to herself. “Did I just do that?”
Nnamdi’s laughter echoed from upstairs. “Baby!”
She turned just as he jogged down the stairs, eyes shining with amusement and pride.
“You are mad,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Completely mad.”
“You heard everything?” she asked, laughing into his chest.
“I heard enough,” he said. “Powerpuff Girls? Minions? Lola Chukwu, you came prepared.”
She grinned. “They came to test me. I simply passed the exam.”
He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
“Good,” she said. “Because it seems this estate already hates me.”
He chuckled. “Then we’ll give them a proper reason.”
Saturday arrived faster than Lola expected.
She stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress—a bold pop of color that refused to blend in. Her hair was sleek, her makeup soft but intentional.
“You sure about this outfit?” Nnamdi asked, sitting on the bed. “You might cause an accident.”
“That’s the point,” she said, spritzing perfume. “If they’re going to look down on me, they’ll do it properly.”
Vanessa’s house was impossible to miss.
Luxury announced itself loudly—valet parking, soft music, uniformed staff. The gate stood wide open, welcoming only those deemed worthy.
As Lola and Nnamdi stepped in, conversations slowed.
Eyes turned.
Whispers followed.
“That’s them,” someone murmured.
Lola squeezed Nnamdi’s hand. “Smile,” she whispered. “Let them choke properly.”
Vanessa spotted them immediately.
She stood at the center of her living room, elegant and imposing, a hostess born for control. When her eyes met Lola’s, her smile sharpened.
“Mrs. Chukwu,” she said coolly. “You came.”
“Of course,” Lola replied brightly. “You said attendance was expected.”
Vanessa gestured toward the seating area. “Please.”
The meeting began with rules.
Noise regulations. Parking restrictions. Dress codes—yes, dress codes. Landscaping standards. Approved guests.
Lola listened, expression unreadable.
“And finally,” Vanessa said, folding her hands, “this estate thrives on a certain… standard. We expect all residents to conduct themselves accordingly.”
Lola raised her hand.
A murmur rippled through the room.
“Yes?” Vanessa said tightly.
“What exactly is the standard?” Lola asked. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like classism wearing a fancy dress.”
Gasps.
Vanessa’s smile faltered. “This is not the time—”
“Oh, but it is,” Lola said calmly. “You see, we all paid to live here. Some of us paid with generational wealth. Some of us paid with hard work and love.”
She glanced around. “But money doesn’t buy manners. And respect isn’t an inheritance.”
Silence.
Nnamdi squeezed her hand, pride glowing in his eyes.
Dami stared at Lola, something like admiration flickering across her face.
Vanessa rose slowly. “This meeting is adjourned.”
Lola smiled. “Lovely.”
As they walked out, whispers followed again—but this time, they sounded different.
Not dismissal.
Curiosity.
Fear.
Back at home, Lola kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch.
“Did I overdo it?” she asked softly.
Nnamdi sat beside her. “No. You were perfect.”
She leaned into him. “I just want peace.”
He kissed her temple. “Peace doesn’t come free here. But love? We have plenty of that.”
Upstairs, their bedroom waited.
Outside, the estate buzzed.
The queens had been challenged.
And love—loud, unfiltered, unapologetic—had officially moved in.
- Writer
