The morning sun, golden and warm, streamed through the large windows of the Adebanjo estate, illuminating the breathtaking scene below.
A year had passed since the terrifying ordeal, and today was the day of their white wedding—a testament to their journey, a celebration of a love that had been forged in fire.
In the master suite, Anwana stood before a floor-to-ceiling mirror, a vision in a stunning white gown.
Her mother, Remi, stood beside her, her eyes filled with tears of joy.
"My dear," she said, her voice a soft whisper,
"you look like a queen. My son is the luckiest man alive."
Anwana smiled, a genuine, radiating smile that reached her eyes. The past year had been a beautiful whirlwind.
The court case against Mr. Bankole and his associates had been swift and decisive.
With the overwhelming evidence and a public opinion that had turned viciously against them, the senator had been sentenced to a long prison term.
Aisha, confined to a psychiatric hospital, was a forgotten memory, no longer a threat.
Downstairs, the grand ballroom was a masterpiece of white and gold.
The air hummed with the joyful chatter of Tade's family and friends, a vibrant mosaic of Lagos high society.
Tade, in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, stood at the altar, his gaze fixed on the doors, his heart pounding in his chest.
Suddenly, a little boy, no older than four, came running toward him, his small tuxedo a miniature replica of Tade's.
"Daddy!" Victor yelled, launching himself into Tade's arms.
Tade hugged him tightly, a wave of profound gratitude washing over him.
The boy was thriving, his laughter a daily anthem in their home.
He had completely adjusted, a living, breathing testament to their new, beautiful life.
"Ready, son?" Tade whispered, placing him gently on the ground.
Victor, holding a small ring cushion, nodded solemnly.
"Ready."
The music swelled, and the doors to the ballroom opened.
All heads turned as Anwana walked down the aisle, a radiant vision of grace and beauty.
Tade's heart, which had been so hardened by betrayal and loss, felt like it was about to burst with love.
He had waited for this moment his entire life.
Later that evening, in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, Anwana and Tade held each other close.
The events of the day felt like a dream.
The white wedding was a spectacular affair, a grand public display of their commitment, but it was in this private moment that they found true solace.
"We did it," Anwana whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger.
"We made it through the fire."
"We did," Tade said, kissing her hand.
"And it was worth every single moment of pain. To be with you, to be a family, to have the life we've built... I would do it all over again."
He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a tender, loving kiss. The fight was over.
The game had ended. They had not only won; they had created a love story more beautiful and enduring than anything they had ever imagined.
They were a family, and their forever had just begun.
Anwana pulled back, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Wait, Tade, baby number two? What happened?" she asked.
A smile spread across Tade's face, full of mischief and love.
"Baby number two had been procrastinated, and I think it's time to make her," he said.
He didn't wait for her reply, instead scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed.
Anwana shrieked with laughter, a sound so full of pure joy that it filled the room.
"You're not escaping this," he said, his voice a low rumble.
Anwana laughed shyly as he laid her on the bed.
The night was their own, a private celebration of their l
ove, their family, and the beautiful life they had fought so hard to build.