That was the narrative his allies were quietly feeding to institutional investors, and it was effective precisely because it wore the mask of concern.

“I need them to stop looking at me like something already half gone,” Ifeoma said.

Emeka understood, then, exactly what he had been hired to be — not a lover, but living proof that this woman was not alone, was not without allies, was not the isolated figure their story required.

His presence was an argument.

And two weeks into the arrangement, the man making the opposite argument came to find him.

Chapter 13 — The Offer