The days that followed the launch were a whirlwind.
Zaria's grace in handling Naledi's public ambush became the talk of the country. Video clips from the gala were dissected on news panels. Women's groups praised her poise, and young girls on TikTok mimicked her now-iconic line: "I didn't take—he left."
What she hadn't expected, however, was what came next.
On a sunny Tuesday morning, her phone buzzed with a message from her foundation's legal advisor.
"Check your inbox. A very big offer just came in."
Zaria, seated in the study with her laptop open and swollen feet propped on a pillow, clicked through the email.
It was a proposal.
From The Adetunji Global Fund—a Pan-African philanthropic network known for funding large-scale, women-led initiatives across the continent. They offered a ₦400 million partnership grant to expand Zaria's foundation into a regional initiative—with Zaria at the helm as executive director and public face.
Her breath caught.
This wasn't just a local project anymore. This was international. Global. The kind of legacy women only dreamed of building.
She reread the proposal twice, then forwarded it to Darius.
Seconds later, her phone rang.
He didn't sound pleased.
"You didn't mention they were approaching you," he said.
"I didn't know they were," she replied. "I was just as surprised."
Darius was silent for a beat.
"And you want to accept it?"
Zaria frowned. "Of course I do. This is exactly what I've been building toward."
Another pause.
"You'll be traveling more. Doing press. Board meetings in Nairobi, maybe even Johannesburg. What happens when the baby comes?"
She blinked. "I raise them. And I lead. The same way women everywhere do."
"I just don't want you overextending yourself," he said tightly. "This level of power… it's not easy."
Zaria sat straighter, feeling the tension rise. "Say what you mean, Darius."
He hesitated. "I mean… don't forget that public attention is a double-edged sword. One mistake, and they'll turn on you. Especially now that you're connected to me. To this family. You don't know what that kind of scrutiny does."
Zaria's voice was cool. "So I should stay small to stay safe?"
"No. I'm saying… be smart."
She stared at the wall, her stomach tight with more than just movement.
"Don't let fear make you controlling," she said quietly. "I won't dim my light just because it makes you uncomfortable."
His voice dropped. "It's not your light that scares me. It's the shadows it draws."
The call ended without a goodbye.
That night, Zaria couldn't sleep.
The baby kicked gently as she stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing. She had always known power came with pressure. But she hadn't expected to feel resistance from the man who had once told her to dream bigger.
Was Darius truly afraid for her?
Or was he afraid of her rising?
She sat up and grabbed her journal, flipping to a fresh page.
At the top, she wrote:
"I was never made for the background."
Then, beneath it, she listed her goals—clear, bold, alive with purpose.
No matter how Darius felt.
No matter who tried to silence her.
She was going to lead.
Not as his partner.
But as herself.