Jomiloju's POV
The plan was madness.
No guarantees. No safety net.
Just two people born from broken promises, preparing to walk into the devil's mouth.
But Steve had taught me something in the fire—something I would never forget:
Fear doesn't disappear. You just stop letting it make decisions for you.
Now, I wasn't waiting to be saved.
I was walking beside my monster—and daring the world to stop us.
We left the shed at dawn, the sky a hazy bruised blue above the treeline.
His hand found mine.
Not tight.
Not possessive.
But grounding.
"I want to show you something before we go," he said.
Steve's POV
I took her to a grave.
Not one with a tombstone.
Just a spot under a lone mango tree by the edge of a forgotten village road. The soil still smelled like memory.
"This is where I buried her," I said quietly.
"Alika?"
I nodded.
"She died because my father trusted the wrong man. A politician. Koleosho's brother."
Jomi didn't speak.
Just knelt down and touched the dirt.
"I was ten when I promised I'd never let anyone I loved die like that again."
"You think you broke that promise," she said.
"I know I did."
She stood, eyes fierce.
"No. Because I'm still alive. And I'm choosing to fight with you."
Then she reached into her pocket.
And pulled out his sister's bracelet.
Jomiloju's POV
I'd found it in the bag the night we ran from the fire.
A small gold chain, scratched and weathered, with an "A" charm hanging loosely from it.
I didn't ask permission.
I wore it on my wrist now.
"Your past doesn't scare me," I said. "It built the man I trust. So I'll carry her story, too."
His jaw clenched.
Then, slowly, he lifted something from his back holster.
A bullet.
Silver. Custom-marked. Deadly.
"She gave me this bracelet the same night I swore revenge," he said. "This bullet… is the last one I saved for Koleosho."
He looked at me, hand trembling slightly.
"Now I want you to carry it."
Steve's POV
It felt like giving her my last breath.
But I placed the bullet in her palm anyway.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't look away.
She closed her fingers around it—and nodded.
A rose holding a weapon meant for revenge.
Beautiful. Deadly. Mine.
Jomiloju's POV
By the time we reached the edge of Lagos, dusk had fallen.
The city never slept. But it did bleed.
Steve changed our car twice.
Ditched the phones.
Tied his wound tighter.
We were ghosts moving through shadows now—no longer prey.
But a warning.
"We're going in through the back of the orchid club," he told me. "Koleosho's men think I'm delivering you. You stay close. Don't flinch. No matter what."
"And your plan?"
"Kill everyone that touches you."
I reached for his hand.
"Let me help."
He paused.
Then slid a dagger from his boot.
Placed it in my grip.
"Then aim for the throat. And never hesitate."
Steve's POV
The orchid club was a nest of vipers.
Neon lights. Champagne. Blood on the marble floors you couldn't see unless you knew where to look.
Koleosho's men were waiting.
Smiling.
Too eager.
"Steve Adewale," one of them greeted with a sneer. "Didn't think you'd actually deliver the girl."
I didn't smile.
Didn't speak.
Just motioned behind me.
Jomiloju stepped out of the shadows.
No chains.
No fear.
Wearing Alika's bracelet like a crown.
"You didn't cuff her?" another man asked.
"She's tamed," I said coldly. "Doesn't need chains."
They laughed.
Mistake number one.
Jomiloju's POV
Inside the club, the music was loud and vulgar.
The kind that makes your skin itch if you've known silence.
Koleosho sat on a throne of glass and smoke, flanked by women who didn't smile with their eyes.
He stood slowly when he saw me.
"Well," he drawled, "look what the bastard dragged in."
Steve tensed beside me.
I stepped forward before he could speak.
"You wanted a rose," I said, voice sharp as steel. "But you forgot—roses bleed back."
And then—I dropped the bullet at his feet.
His smile faltered.
Just a second.
But I saw it.
Steve's POV
She bought me the second I needed.
With all eyes on her, I moved.
Gun drawn.
Two guards down before they even realized I wasn't bluffing.
The room exploded in chaos.
I grabbed Jomi, dove behind the VIP bar, glass shattering over our heads.
"You okay?" I shouted.
"I still have the knife."
Good girl.
Jomiloju's POV
Gunfire.
Screams.
Steve was a shadow cutting through bodies like he was born for it.
I stayed behind him—until one of Koleosho's men flanked from the side.
Too close.
Too fast.
I didn't think.
I just moved.
Knife out.
Right to the throat.
The man choked, eyes wide, blood pouring.
I didn't scream.
Didn't hesitate.
Steve turned just in time to see the man fall.
His eyes locked with mine.
And in that moment—I think he fell all over again.
Steve's POV
We fought our way to Koleosho's private elevator.
The coward had fled to the panic room level.
Of course he had.
But he wouldn't make it far.
Because this wasn't just about revenge anymore.
It was about every woman they tried to break.
Every child they sold.
Every man they turned into monsters.
We weren't just survivors now.
We were executioners.
Together.