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.

“I only have ten minutes, Mrs. Okafor,” Seek said. His voice was deep and flat. “Okafor Legacy Holdings—dormant company. Agricultural assets. What is the problem?”

Zelica sat down without being invited.

“The problem, Mr. Seek,” she said, “is that this company just woke up. The assets are large, but I don’t know anything about pecans, peaches, or how to run it. And I have another problem that must be solved.”

“What problem?”

“My ex-husband. A developer in Atlanta. His name is Quacy. He demands a share. He doesn’t know about this.”

Seek raised an eyebrow.

“This is interesting. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to restructure this company from the ground up. Audit everything. Make it an active, modern, profitable company. And I want you to be my personal adviser,” Zelica said. “I want to know how to use this power.”

Seek stared at her for a long time.