The morning sun warmed the glass walls of the Madu-Obasi Foundation. Maria had just wrapped up a mentorship session when a staff member rushed in.
"Ma… there's a man asking for you. Says he's from Lagos. Says he knows you… from before."
Maria's chest tightened. Her voice was steady, but her heart raced. "What's his name?"
"He wouldn't say."
Curious and cautious, Maria stepped outside.
There, standing by the fountain, was a face she hadn't seen in almost seven years.
"Chuka?"
The man turned. Same confident smirk, same calculating eyes. "Long time, Maria."
She folded her arms. "What do you want?"
He chuckled. "Relax. I came in peace. Heard you were doing big things now. Thought maybe… we could talk business."
Maria narrowed her eyes. Chuka was no friend. Back when she worked at the hotel, he was trouble—a smooth-talking ex who left scars and unpaid debts behind.
"Business?" she repeated.
"I have something you might want. Something he might want." He tilted his head toward the building behind her. "About Alexander."
---
Later that night…
Maria couldn't sleep. She didn't tell Alexander about Chuka's visit. Not yet.
But as she stared at the ceiling, one thing was clear: not everyone from her past was content to stay buried.
And this time, if Chuka brought chaos, she wouldn't run.
She'd fight.