Tears filled the old man’s eyes.
“You think wealth is everything because your mother protected you too much,” he whispered painfully. “But one day, pride will bring you to your knees.”
Kemi laughed bitterly.
“Easy for you to say when you’re handing your favorite daughter the rich husband.”
Chika immediately shook her head.
“Daddy… let her have him.”
Both of them turned toward her.
“I don’t want anyone forced into marriage because of me.”
Kemi’s expression shifted instantly.
Victory.
Cruel, satisfied victory.
But Chika continued softly:
“I’ll marry the village farmer.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Mr. Obiora looked heartbroken.
“Chika…”
She forced a small smile despite the pain crushing her chest.
“Mom made those promises for a reason. Let me keep one of them.”
Kemi lowered the knife slowly, relief flooding her face.
Then she laughed.
Actually laughed.
“You’re finally useful.”
Chika said nothing.
Because some wounds become too deep for tears.
—
Three weeks later, the compound buzzed with wedding preparations.
Kemi transformed into a queen overnight.
Designer fabrics.
Expensive makeup artists.
Luxury cars arriving daily from Lagos.
The Bello family was one of the wealthiest families in Abuja, and Kemi made sure everyone in town knew she was about to become Mrs. Kemi Bello.
Meanwhile, whispers followed Chika everywhere.
“The poor sister.”
