Chapter 06

The next morning, Samantha decided to confront the day with a different approach. She dressed in her usual uniform: a white shirt paired with a red checked skirt. The skirt was predominantly red with subtle white lines running through it, matched by a tie of the same pattern.

At school, she found Tony at their usual spot beneath the old iroko tree in the courtyard. His face lit up with a guilty smile as he saw her approach. "Ms. Sharon has been calm lately," he remarked.

"So, you heard about Moferso?" Samantha asked, her voice tinged with both disappointment and unimpressed skepticism.

"Yeah, I'm the one who came up with the name," Tony admitted. Samantha responded with a look of disappointment.

"I'm supposed to plaster these banners all over school," Samantha said, showing him the catalogs. "Why Moferso, Tony?"

He chuckled, "It was late, we were brainstorming, and I just threw it out there. It stuck."

Samantha sighed, "It sounds like a bad sci-fi prop."

Tony laughed, "Maybe, but it's going to be big. Your dad's vision is... unique."

They both gazed at the banners; sleek and promising a revolutionary tech experience. For Samantha, however, they were another reminder of her father's world, from which she felt increasingly detached.

"Unique? A pair of glasses is unique," Samantha said, flipping through the catalogs. "Yeah, of course, I mean it's nice, isn't it?" Tony asked. "Come on, your dad is Nigeria's Elon Musk," he added.

"For this?" Samantha questioned, holding up the catalogs.

"Well, yeah. We can do something different," Tony proposed suddenly. "Let's not just put these up. Let's make a discovery on how it can help us students at International School. Let's give the science department one of the products to show them a new world. Who is Amazon compared to your father? Let's make it a part of our lives."

"Like a fair? With what, our school club?" Samantha asked.

"Yes, why not? We can involve the art club for visual presentations, the debate club for discussions on technology's impact, and maybe even the science club could demonstrate some concepts," Tony suggested enthusiastically.

"Let's do something different," Samantha mimicked, trying to mock Tony. "Make a product that's trying to destroy my life a part of my life, is that it?" she said, her tone sharp.

"Whoa, Samantha, take it easy on your words," Tony cautioned. "We should do a science fair, right? We should involve the science club, isn't it?"

"Tony, you don't understand what I'm going through. If my dad finds out that the school is involved and then he starts making huge sales—whether from the school or not—he's going to trust the company to me, and my dream of becoming a medical doctor would be tarnished," Samantha confessed, her voice laden with concern.

Helen woke up that morning, her mind clouded by the weight of her conversation with the Queen Mother. She lay still on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the implications of last night's discussion pressing down on her like a heavy cloak.

The thought of her daughter, Sam, being drawn into the coven's dark affairs was a sharp reminder of the stakes at stake. Helen's mind raced, piecing together the implications of the blood oath and the Queen Mother's intentions. She knew she needed allies within the coven, those who might not align fully with the Queen Mother's vision. Omolola came to mind, whose sharp words the previous evening had unveiled a mutual distrust of the current leadership.

Once the sun had climbed high, Helen sought out Omolola. They met in a secluded corner of the coven's grounds, where the whispers of the wind and the rustle of leaves shielded their conversation from curious ears.

"Omolola, we need to talk," Helen began, her voice low but urgent.

Omolola nodded, her face a mask of concern and curiosity. "I thought as much after last night. What's your plan?"

"A lot has been going on," Helen said, her voice thick with urgency. "I mean, a lot. The Queen Mother wants Sam to take her place, to be the next ruler. But I won't allow it. I need your help to ensure that doesn't happen."

"Help me understand, why does the Queen Mother want that?" Omolola asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Sam is born of our Mother, Hilda. The Queen Mother feels that just as she was born into this witchcraft and trained to lead, Sam should follow the same path," Helen explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

"So, she wants Sam's blood on the altar?" Omolola clarified, her tone revealing her shock.

"Yes, for the blood oath," Helen confirmed. "I can't let my daughter enter into a covenant with this kind of evil lifestyle."

"You know it's evil?" Omolola raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, everyone does," Helen replied, her voice firm.

Omolola nodded, her expression softening. "I joined for extended life, you know. My mother, grandmother, great-grandmother—all died before thirty-five. This witchcraft has kept me alive, and now I'm sixty."

"Maybe not for everyone, but it's too late for you to back down now," Omolola pointed out.

"And besides..." Omolola started, but was interrupted by the sudden ring of Helen's phone. It was her husband, Chief Gabriel Omoshola.

"Ìyàwó mi," Chief Gabriel's voice came through the phone, meaning "My wife" in Yoruba.

"Ọkọ mi," Helen responded, which means "my husband."

"Preparations have begun for the event. Where are you?" Chief Gabriel inquired.

"I'll be with you shortly," Helen said, hanging up the phone.

"I have to go. We'll talk later," Helen said as she turned to leave.

"Helen, you have to give Sammy's blood," Omolola called out, making Helen pause mid-step. She turned back, her face a mask of resolve, then continued her walk, the weight of her decision hanging over her like a dark cloud.

The week leading up to the product launch was a tightrope walk for Helen, each day taut with tension. NovaTech’s latest innovation—a device poised to revolutionize the tech industry—was set to debut, and the weight of its success rested heavily on her shoulders. But her mind wasn’t solely on the presentations, press releases, or last-minute preparations. It lingered on Sam, her daughter, whose safety hung in a delicate balance.

For weeks, Helen had been piecing together a plan to protect her. Whispers of corporate espionage had grown louder, and with NovaTech’s rivals circling like vultures, Sam had become a target—a bargaining chip to force Helen’s hand. She couldn’t risk exposure, not now. So, she’d arranged for Sam to leave for school everyday with a small, trusted group of police officers under the guise of her being at work. The details were deliberately sparse, shared only with those who needed to know. A leak could unravel everything.

Meanwhile, at International School, the buzz of the upcoming launch had infiltrated the school like wildfire. Posters advertising NovaTech’s product adorned nearly every department, their sleek designs and bold taglines transforming the drab hallways into a makeshift advertising agency. Tony and Samantha, had taken charge of the campaign with the help of a few eager friends. They plastered posters on the school’s main billboard, in the cafeteria, and across classroom walls, handing out flyers to nearly everyone in their classes.

Well, almost everyone. Samantha hesitated when it came to Cassandra, the sharp-tongued girl who ruled their grade with an iron grip. Approaching her felt like stepping into a lion’s den, and Samantha’s fear kept her at bay. She stuffed the flyer meant for Cassandra into her backpack, hoping no one would notice.

Despite her initial reluctance, Samantha found herself enjoying the process. She’d spent years resisting the pull of her father’s technological dynasty, determined not to be swallowed by its shadow. But there was an undeniable thrill in seeing the school come alive with excitement, in watching her classmates pore over the posters with wide-eyed curiosity. For the first time, she felt a flicker of pride in the family name she’d tried so hard to distance herself from.

Tony stood at the entrance of the school’s main hallway, balancing on a step stool as he taped a catalog to the billboard. The glossy pages shimmered under the fluorescent lights, NovaTech’s logo gleaming like a beacon. He was so focused on aligning the edges that he didn’t notice Alex and his crew passing by until their laughter echoed down the hall.

Alex, the school’s resident troublemaker, slowed his steps, his gaze lingering on Tony. His friends exchanged glances and moved on, but Alex hesitated. After a moment, he turned back, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he approached.

He stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, watching Tony work. “Brotherly, wassup?” he said, his tone casual but edged with something unreadable.

Tony gave him a sidelong glance, not breaking his rhythm. “I’m chill. You?”

“Trying to be better,” Alex said, his voice quieter now. He shifted his weight, his eyes flicking to the catalog. “At least with Ms. Sharon gone, there’s some peace around here.”

Tony smirked, taping down the last corner. “She’s with the Ministry of Education. Probably back next week.”

“Yeah,” Alex muttered, his gaze drifting to the floor. An awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the distant chatter of students.

“Wassup with the posters?” Alex finally asked, nodding at the billboard.

Tony stepped down from the stool, brushing his hands on his trousers. “New product launch by NovaTech. Big deal, I guess.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Your mom’s company, right?”

Tony nodded, his expression tightening. He didn’t like talking about it, not with Alex, whose reputation for trouble made Tony wary. But there was something different in Alex’s eyes today—a flicker of curiosity, maybe even respect.

“Looks cool,” Alex said, surprising him. “You think it’s gonna change things?”

Tony shrugged, unsure how to answer. “That’s what they’re saying.”

Alex nodded slowly, then turned to leave. “See you around, man.”

As Alex disappeared down the hall, Tony frowned. Something about the encounter felt off, like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. He shook it off and returned to the billboard, but the unease lingered.

As Tony navigated through the school hallways en route to his class, he spotted Cassandra perched on a bench in the schoolyard. She was engrossed with her phone, both hands cradling it in her lap, seemingly absorbed in reading. Curiosity piqued, Tony approached her. Cassandra, sensing his presence, glanced up but kept her gaze mostly on her phone. It turned out she wasn't reading but scrolling through photos.

"Umm," Tony cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "Hey."

Cassandra's response was a brief, disinterested look that screamed "go away." Tony, trying to salvage the moment, tucked his hands into his pockets, attempting to look nonchalant. Seeing him about to leave, she waved, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"So, um, how are you doing?" Tony ventured.

"Mm-hmm," she replied, nodding quickly, her forced smile still in place, clearly signaling disinterest.

Cassandra continued to look at him, her smile now a mask. Tony returned it with one of his own, hoping to bridge the gap.

"It's been a while since we had a good chat," he said, attempting to warm the conversation.

"Yeah," she agreed, her nod more pronounced, the smile still fixed.

"It's been like two years now, hasn't it?" Tony started, but she cut him off.

"Primary 2," Cassandra corrected. "We last spoke in primary 2 when we were seven."

"Oh yeah," Tony acknowledged, his voice lacking confidence. "It was good until you decided to be you."

"Till I decided to be me?" she echoed, her smile unwavering.

"What?" Tony was confused.

"You were saying something," she prompted him.

"Nah, I'm good," he backtracked.

"I thought you were cute," she said out of the blue.

"What?" Tony asked, surprised.

"I don't really know why girls fall for boys carrying an empty head around," Cassandra scoffed.

"Well, it's part of my superpowers..." Tony tried to recover.

"To be a fool," she finished for him.

"Oh," he sighed, taking a deep breath. "You know, I came best in math last term."

"Anthony, my son..." Cassandra began, but Tony interrupted her.

"It's been a while since you called me that," he noted.

"Even if you had all the awards given by the school, you still wouldn't convince me you're smart," she continued. "Being smart isn't the same as being intelligent, you get me?"

Tony lowered his head, accepting her words.

"Tony, you're a dummy. I don't even know who's worse, you or Ugo. Look at me, you lack sense, wisdom, and everything pertaining to it, okay?" she whispered, ensuring no one else could hear.

"I whispered so your 'I love, I like girls' wouldn't know you lack sense. At least I did you a favor, whether you like it or not," she said, turning her attention back to her phone.

"Is that your mom?" Tony asked, noticing the screen.

Cassandra immediately turned off her phone.

"You know, I don't understand why you're here," she said, annoyed.

"I came to invite you to the launch of Moferso," he said, handing her a flyer.

She took one, gave a fleeting smile, and examined it.

"So, it's always about your mom," Tony remarked.

"Okay, your time's up; you can leave now," Cassandra dismissed him.

"You can just tell me; I promise it'll stay between us, okay?" Tony pleaded.

"Okay, then I'll leave," Cassandra said, packing her phone into her bag and standing up.

"No, no, you have your space; I'll go," Tony said, backing away while still looking at her, then turning to leave.

Back at NovaTech headquarters, Chief Gabriel paced his office, his heels clicking against the polished floor. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of the impending future. The product launch was days away, and the product's departure was scheduled for the same time—a carefully orchestrated distraction to divert the pirates' attention.

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up, his mind immediately racing to Officer Jonathan. It was the lead officer, his voice low and clipped. “We’re ready. It’s safe for now, but we need to move soon.”

Chief Gabriel exhaled, his grip tightening on the phone. “No delays. On Friday, we're launching and moving parts of it to Abuja, Accra, and Johannesburg on the same day.”

He hung up, his mind racing. Officer Jonathan was to be his cover, the chaos of the event masking the product's movement for both sale and protection. But the weight of dependency was suffocating. He hadn’t told his wife or Samantha, knowing their worry would only complicate matters. They deserved to know, but not yet. Not until the product was safe from the hands of pirates.

As he stared out the window at the estate's skyline, a shadow flickered at the edge of his vision. He turned, his pulse quickening, but the office was empty. Paranoia, he told himself. Just paranoia.

But deep down, he knew better. The game had already begun, and the stakes were higher than ever. Competitors like Tesla, Samsung, Amazon, and others would stop at nothing to make their products superior.

The launch wasn't just about unveiling a new technology; it was a strategic move in a global chess game. Chief Gabriel knew that every step they took was watched, every move anticipated. The security measures around the product were not just to keep it from pirates but also to guard against corporate espionage.