She Was Forced To Marry A Poor Village Farmer Unaware He Is The Richest Man Alive

“I am not.”

Her face hardened so fast it almost looked like a mask sliding into place.

“No,” she said. “No way. There is no way Chika marries into the Bello family while I am thrown into a village.”

Mr. Obiora frowned. “Mind your tone.”

“How should I talk?” Kemi shot back. “You want to push me into poverty and hand Chika the better life. What tone should I use?”

“This is not about a better life,” he said firmly. “That village promise was made because of you. Grace Eze helped save you when you were born. Your mother swore she would honor that.”

Kemi gave a bitter laugh. “So because some village woman touched me as a baby, I should now marry a farmer?”

“Do not speak like that.”

“Then tell me why Chika gets class, comfort, city life, and I get goats and dust.”

Chika finally spoke, her voice low. “Kemi, Daddy is trying to explain.”

Kemi turned to her sharply. “Stay out of it. You are already benefiting.”

The room tightened.

Mr. Obiora rubbed his forehead. “The Bello family is not what it appears. There is trouble there.”

“What trouble?”

“Enough for me to be cautious.”

But Kemi was no longer listening to caution. She was listening to imagination—the kind dressed in polished shoes, expensive perfume, and the fantasy of being envied forever.

“All I know,” she said, “is that the Bellos are rich.”

Then she looked at Chika and added, “Why does she always get the better thing?”

Mr. Obiora’s voice rose. “You are being selfish.”