Dele entered the private room expecting respect.
Nobody stood.
Alhaji Bashir Danjuma sat at the head of the table. His name appeared on no AEGIS record, but his businesses received money after every major payment.
Dr. Tola Bamidele sat beside him.
She had helped approve the hospital power contract.
Danjuma closed a file.
“Zara Musa has requested records from the bridge, school and hospital projects.”
Dele sat.
“She has documents. Documents can disappear.”
Dr. Bamidele watched him.
“The last time you said that, Daniel Okoro kept a copy.”
“I handled the engineer.”
“No,” she replied. “You frightened him. There is a difference.”
“He is no longer a problem.”
“He is alive,” Danjuma said.
Dele became still.
“And Emeka Nnadi has refused AEGIS,” Danjuma continued.
“He will approve it.”
“You sound confident.”
“I know his ambition.”
“Then use it.”
Dr. Bamidele leaned forward.
“We want the contractor to sign. We want Zara discredited. We want the original report recovered.”
“And if they refuse?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Danjuma said, “Do not make us remove you with the problem.”
Dele left the meeting afraid for the first time in years.
That afternoon, Emeka entered Dele’s office wearing Creed Aventus.
“Nnadi Construction is at a turning point,” Dele said.
“So you have told me.”
“Your father built a respectable company. I can make it national.”
“How?”
“Projects across Nigeria. Government-backed funding. Faster payments. Protection from unnecessary audits. Exponential growth.”
“And the cost?”
“Build the new bridge. Accept the suppliers already approved. Stop asking about projects that do not concern you.”
“The old bridge concerns me if you are using the same supplier.”
“The old bridge is finished.”
“Twenty-three people died.”
“The contractor failed.”
“The materials were changed.”
Dele’s smile hardened.
“You are a builder, Emeka. Build. Leave government structure to those who understand it.”
“And AEGIS?”
“A logistics partner.”
“A company that never builds anything but always gets paid.”
“Nobody is asking you to touch stolen money. Your company delivers the project. AEGIS handles its part.”
“And Nnadi Construction grows.”
“Exponentially.”
For one moment, Emeka imagined thousands of employees and projects across the country.
Everything he had ever wanted.
Then he remembered the bodies.
“No.”
Dele stared at him.
“You are refusing a future most men would kill for.”
“I would rather grow slowly than build on dead people.”
“You may be prepared to gamble your company. Are you prepared to gamble Zara Musa’s career?”
Emeka stopped smiling.
“Leave her out of this.”
“I did not bring her into anything. You did.”
“She is doing her job.”
“A young officer involved with a contractor under review can lose more than one case.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It is advice.”
Emeka stood.
“If anything happens to her—”
“What will you do?”
Dele’s question was quiet.
Emeka looked directly at him.
“You will find out.”
Later, Dele summoned Zara.
He sat behind his desk, smiling like the mentor she once believed he was.
“I remember when you joined the Ministry,” he said. “Focused. Disciplined.”
“I still am.”
“You are allowing emotion to affect your judgment.”
“My findings are documented.”
“Your relationship with Emeka is also documented.”
Zara’s face became still.
“I supported your career because I believed you understood how institutions survive.”
“By hiding deaths?”
“By choosing battles carefully.”
“And choosing who gets sacrificed?”
His smile disappeared.
“You are talented, Zara. Do not destroy your future trying to prove powerful men are imperfect.”
“I am not investigating imperfection.”
“What are you investigating?”
“Murder hidden inside procurement files.”
For one second, Dele’s control slipped.
“Walk away.”
“No.”
“Think about your family.”
Zara’s voice dropped.
“You should never mention my family again.”
Dele studied her.
“You have become brave.”
“No, sir.”
She opened the door.
“I have become certain.”