After my husband threw me out of the house after our divorce, I took the old bank card my father had left behind and used it at a branch in the U.S., sending the whole bank lobby into a stir as the staff hurriedly called the manager over, and the words “Look at the name on this account!” revealed a family secret I had never known.

Instead, Zelica went to the financial district in Midtown.

Seek’s office was in one of the skyscrapers—minimalist, cold, all glass and steel. Zelica, in her new clothes, simple but neat, contrasted with the setting.

“I want to see Mr. Seeku. I don’t have an appointment,” she told the receptionist.

“Mr. Seeku is busy, ma’am. His schedule is full for the next two months.”

“Tell him,” Zelica said calmly, “Zelica Okafor, owner of Okafor Legacy Holdings LLC, assets of 2,000 acres. This is urgent.”

The receptionist hesitated, but the words “2,000 acres” made her pick up the phone.

Five minutes later, Zelica was ushered into a corner office with a view of all of Atlanta.

Seek was a Black man in his mid-thirties. He didn’t smile. He wore a dress shirt with no tie, but he looked more formal than Quacy ever did in his suits. His eyes were sharp, analyzing Zelica.