CHAPTER 8: LIGHTS OUT
743 Words
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Darkness.
Then 800 phone flashlights came on at once.
The rooftop looked like stars had fallen.
“Everyone stay calm!” Amaka yelled. “This is illegal!”
My heart was pounding. The mic was dead. The music was dead.
But 800 people were still here. For us.
Damien grabbed my hand in the dark.
“Generator?” he whispered.
“Mrs. Cole cut the main power to the whole block,” Amaka said.
“She owns the disco company too.”
A voice boomed from below. On a megaphone.
Mrs. Cole.
“Ladies and gentlemen! This event is not permitted!
Please disperse, or we will be forced to call the police!”
Boos from the crowd.
Damien stepped onto a chair. No mic. Just his voice.
“My mother is lying,” he shouted.
“We have permits. We have approval. She’s trying to scare you.”
More boos. Someone yelled: “WE’RE NOT LEAVING!”
I looked at Damien. At the ring. At 800 people who believed in us.
I climbed onto the chair next to him.
No mic. So I had to scream.
“My name is Tasha Okoro!”
My voice shook but carried.
“3 weeks ago I was about to lose this shop.
Today I’m standing here because of you. All of you!”
Phones recorded. Videos going live.
“Mama Ngozi fed you for free.
DJ Kay played for exposure.
Amaka decorated with her own money.
Because Mrs. Cole told them not to!”
Gasps.
“So she can cut the lights. She can cut the power.
But she cannot cut this!”
I held up my hand. The ring.
“She cannot cut what we built tonight.”
The crowd roared. _“HAVEN! HAVEN! HAVEN!”_
That’s when the police arrived.
3 vans. Lights flashing.
My stomach dropped.
But the lead officer walked straight to Damien. Saluted.
“Mr. Cole. The injunction came through.
This event is legally protected.
Is there a problem, sir?”
Damien smiled. Cold. “Yes. My mother is trespassing and making false statements.”
He turned to the megaphone below.
“Mom. It’s over. Go home.”
Silence.
Then the generator kicked on.
Light flooded the rooftop.
And standing at the entrance, face red with rage...
was Mrs. Cole.
With Chloe.
And lawyers.
“You think you won?” Mrs. Cole spat.
“You have no company. No name. No future.”
“I have her,” Damien said, squeezing my hand.
“And I have this.”
He pulled out a folder. Handed it to the head lawyer.
“Evidence. That you leaked confidential contract information.
That you tampered with business operations.
That you tried to sabotage a legal event.”
He looked at her. “Sign the papers. Or go to jail.”
Mrs. Cole went pale.
Chloe looked at her, then at us. Then she dropped her phone and walked out.
The lawyers whispered to Mrs. Cole. She was shaking.
Finally, she signed. Threw the pen.
“You’ll regret this,” she hissed, and left.
Just like that. It was over.
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30 minutes later.
The music was back. The lights were on.
People were dancing. Eating. Laughing.
Damien and I sat on the edge of the rooftop. Feet dangling.
“You did it,” I said. “You actually beat her.”
“We did it,” he corrected. Kissed my temple.
“No contract. No board. No mother.
Just us.”
My phone buzzed. Email.
Sender: _Cole Foundation_
Subject: _NEW CHAIRWOMAN_
Body: _“The board has voted. With Damien’s resignation,
we need new leadership. Miss Okoro, will you accept
the position of Chairwoman of The Haven Foundation?”_
I stared at it. “They want me?”
“They need you,” Damien said. “To fix what they broke.”
I looked at the party below. At Mama Ngozi. At Amaka.
At 800 people who showed up when they were told not to.
“Yes,” I said. “I accept.”
Damien pulled me into a kiss.
Not for cameras. Not for contracts.
Just for us.
Above us, fireworks.
Someone had snuck them in.
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*6 MONTHS LATER*
Nice’s Haven now has 3 branches.
The Haven Gala is an annual event.
And Damien?
He’s my husband. And my business partner.
No contract.
Just love.
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END OF CHAPTER 8
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Next: _The Wedding + Chloe’s Redemption Arc?_
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- Writer
