Farin continued.
“That vehicle funded Renée’s company.”
Kunle’s face darkened.
“Leave my daughter out of this.”
Farin’s voice became colder.
“Your daughter humiliated my father in my restaurant while wearing a watch partly funded by money stolen from my company.”
Dapo looked at him.
“Farin.”
Farin did not apologize.
Kunle said:
“You cannot prove Renée knew where the money came from.”
Dapo finally spoke.
“Did she?”
Kunle looked away.
“No.”
That mattered.
Farin wrote it down.
No rewritten history.
No guilt inherited simply because money crossed into someone’s business.
Then Farin asked:
“Did you alter Tobechukwu Eze’s payment?”
Kunle’s expression froze.
“No.”
“Your terminal did.”
“Then somebody used my terminal.”
“Convenient.”
“Careful, Farin.”
Tobe was later brought into the review.
He looked at Kunle across the same table.
“I lost my career.”
Kunle said nothing.
“I almost lost my marriage.”
Nothing.
“Do you understand what forty-two million naira means beside my name?”
Kunle finally replied:
“You breached procedure.”
Tobe laughed.
“Yes.”
He looked around the table.
“I did.”
Then pointed toward the transaction report.
“I approved 4.2 million without complete procurement clearance because Tami told me to trust her.”
Tami lowered her eyes.
“That was wrong.”
He looked at Dapo.
“But I did not steal thirty-seven-point-eight million.”
“No,” Farin said. “Current evidence supports that.”
Kunle pushed his chair back.
“This family enjoys pretending it is clean.”
Dapo looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Kunle stared at him.
“Ask your father,” he told Farin, “why he begged me not to report Tami the first time company money disappeared.”
Farin turned.
“Dad?”
Dapo’s face changed.
Tami went pale.
Seven years earlier, before the current fraud, Tami had authorized twelve million naira of company funds toward a private investment without proper board approval.
The money had eventually been returned.
Dapo had buried the incident.
Not because it was harmless.
Because she was his daughter.
Farin stared at him.
“How much?”
Dapo answered quietly.
“Twelve million.”
“And you hid it.”
“She returned every naira.”
“That is not the point.”
Dapo looked tired.
“I was protecting my daughter.”
Farin’s voice sharpened.
“You were teaching Kunle that our rules could be negotiated.”
Nobody spoke.
Nkiru learned about that meeting later.
Dapo himself told her.
She looked at him and said:
“You should know something about powerful families.”
Dapo frowned.
Nkiru continued.
“You do not always lie outright.”
He listened.
“Sometimes you simply decide which truths other people can survive.”
Dapo sat with that.
Nkiru added:
“That is still lying when you are the person kept in the dark.”
The company offered Tobe a settlement.
Formal clearing of theft allegations.
Corrected employment reference.
Compensation for lost income.
Confidentiality.
Enough money to clear the couple’s debts and allow them to start again.
Tobe held the agreement at the dining table.
Nkiru read it.
“They’re offering enough to clear everything we owe.”
“Yes.”
“In exchange for silence.”
“My name gets cleared.”
“Privately.”