Chapter 19

Zara adjusted the strap of her black sling bag over her shoulder and ran a hand through her curls, trying to suppress the anxious flutter in her stomach. Today was the first official visit to the modeling agency—a quick consultation and test shoot—and Kemi had pulled every string she could to make it happen discreetly. Dressed in wide-leg jeans and a crisp white blouse tucked in neatly, she looked effortlessly stunning. Her face bore minimal makeup, just enough to highlight her natural features. She had told her parents she was going to Kemi’s house again for another girls’ day, and thankfully, they hadn’t asked too many questions.

Kemi, already waiting in front of the gate, waved from her small car. Zara jogged toward her, heart pounding with excitement and nerves.

“You ready?” Kemi beamed as she opened the door.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Zara muttered, sliding in. “Let’s go before someone changes their mind.”

The drive was filled with excited chatter. Kemi hyped her up, played their favorite playlist, and made jokes to ease Zara’s tension. They arrived at the agency building thirty minutes later. It was sleek and professional—nothing too flashy, but everything screamed serious business. Inside, the receptionist greeted them warmly, handed Zara a form to fill, and asked her to wait briefly for the creative director.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Zara whispered to Kemi as she sat.

But before anything else could unfold, Zara’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and saw her father’s name on the screen. Her heart sank. Kemi noticed immediately.

“What?” she asked.

Zara swallowed and picked up the call. “Hello, Daddy.”

“Zara, where are you?”

“At Kemi’s…”

“That’s a lie,” he snapped. “I just called her father. He said she’s not home.”

Zara closed her eyes. Her fingers gripped her bag. “Daddy, I—”

“You’re on your way to that useless modeling thing, aren’t you?”

Silence.

“You better get back home this instant. And don’t even think of starting an argument. I’ve arranged your job orientation. It’s today, and you’re late.”

“What?” Zara breathed.

“I said get home. Now.”

The call ended. Her hand trembled as she dropped the phone into her lap.

Kemi stared at her. “Zara… don’t say it.”

“I have to go.”

Kemi slammed the steering wheel. “Are you joking right now? Zara!”

“I can’t afford to make things worse with my parents. Not now.” She rose. “Please… explain to them. Make up something. I’ll reschedule.”

“Zara—”

“Please.”

Without waiting for another word, she walked out.

The job orientation was at a private firm located in Victoria Island. Her father had apparently secured her a position as assistant manager in the accounting department. Everyone she met there was formal, professional, and coldly polite. She wore a forced smile, shook hands, accepted papers, and nodded at instructions—all while her mind screamed.

By the time she got home, her head was pounding.

Her mother was waiting in the living room. “How did it go?”

Zara didn’t respond. She just went straight to her room, shut the door, and collapsed on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, arms folded under her head.

Later that night, she was summoned.

Her parents were seated across from each other. Her father gestured for her to sit.

“I hope you now see how much we care about your future,” he began. “I spoke with Mr. Adeyemi. He said you’ll start officially next Monday.”

Zara looked up at him slowly. “So, it’s final?”

“Yes,” he replied. “You have a good degree in accounting. You came out with a second-class upper. You should be grateful someone is helping you start a proper career.”

Her lips parted. “I don’t want it.”

Her mother shifted uncomfortably.

“You will take it. That’s not up for debate.”

“I said I don’t want it!” Zara snapped. “I’ve been saying this for years now. I want to model! You chose a husband for me, now you’re choosing a job. Can’t I choose one thing for myself?!”

“You will go on Monday,” he repeated, rising. “This discussion is over.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she stormed out of the room.

Later that night, her mother came into her room. Zara sat on the floor, back against her bed.

“My baby,” her mother whispered, sitting beside her. “I know this is hard.”

Zara didn’t respond.

“I spoke to your father,” she continued. “He only wants what’s best for you. But maybe… he’s being too rigid.”

Zara sniffled.

“I told him… at least let her pick something by herself. You chose her husband. Let her chase her dream now.”

“Did he say anything?”

“He’s stubborn. But I’ll keep talking to him.”

Zara nodded slowly. “Thanks, Mum.”

Her mother leaned in and hugged her tightly.

The next morning, Zara received a call from the modeling agency.

“Hi, Zara. We understand something came up yesterday. We’d still love to meet with you. Can you come in tomorrow?”

Zara felt her heart skip. “Yes… I can. Thank you.”

She ended the call and smiled for the first time that morning.

In Mr. Kareem’s private study, the older man sat in his leather chair, fingers laced together.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up and read the message: “She’s getting suspicious again.”

Mr. Kareem replied swiftly: “Keep watching. But no more texts unless I approve it.”

He placed the phone face-down and sighed.

“Some secrets,” he muttered to himself, “must remain buried.”

Zara paced her room, phone in hand, her heart sinking with every call that went unanswered. She had tried Kemi’s number four times already, but each one went straight to voicemail. It was almost midnight, and the silence from her best friend stung more than she expected.

She tried again. Voicemail.

Zara sighed, dropped her phone on the bed, and curled up under her blanket, feeling a loneliness she couldn’t shake.

But just as she was about to drift off, her phone lit up. She grabbed it quickly and saw Kemi calling.

She picked. “Kemi? Thank God. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” Kemi’s voice was cold, almost unfamiliar. “I’m not sure I want to be friends with someone who’s too scared to follow her dreams all because of her dad.”

Zara sat up, stunned. “Kemi, please don’t say that—”

“You know it’s true,” Kemi snapped. “A man that controls your life so tightly, he doesn’t even ask what you want. I bet if you dropped dead, he wouldn’t even blink. He only cares about power, control, and appearances.”

Zara’s voice cracked with anger. “Don’t you ever say that! I know my dad can be a bit tough, but you, of all people, should know he loves me.”

“Then why is he choosing your life for you?” Kemi shot back. “A husband. A job. A future. All without asking you what you want. Is that love?”

Zara bit her lip. Her heart ached, her pride stung.

“You better be ready to stand up for yourself, Zara,” Kemi added, voice firm. “Because if you keep letting him dictate your every move, you’ll never have a life of your own.”

Zara gave a dry laugh. “Stand up to Mr. Tunde? Please, Kemi. Be serious. You know that’s impossible.”

There was a long pause.

Then Zara spoke, quietly. “The modeling agency at Ajah… they called me back.”

Kemi blinked on the other end.

“They said I can come tomorrow for the audition. They’re giving me a second chance,” Zara added with a hint of excitement.

There was a moment of silence again, and then Kemi replied, “That’s great.”

Zara smiled softly. “So… will you come with me?”

Kemi’s voice turned cold again. “No. You’re going alone.”

Zara’s heart sank. “Kemi…”

“I have better things to do, Zara. Besides, we both know what’s going to happen. Your dad will call. He’ll order you back home. And like always…” she paused, “you’ll go.”

Zara swallowed hard.

She stared at her phone in the dark, the room quiet — too quiet.

Her eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears.

Maybe this time… she wouldn’t turn back.