Steve's POV
By the time morning returned, I already knew something was wrong.
It was too quiet.
No calls. No movement. Not even the usual burner phone vibration with encrypted pings.
That only happened when someone was planning a silence.
And in our world—silence meant death.
I left Jomi asleep, her arm wrapped around my waist like a lifeline, and stepped into the next room.
I powered up my spare device—cold-linked to an underground surveillance feed still tapped into Koleosho's movement grid.
Nothing.
Until I saw it.
A body.
Dumped outside a government hospital in Ikoyi. Female. Unconscious.
But alive.
The label on her wrist?
Modupe Dorotoye.
Her mother.
My hands curled into fists.
He was playing a deeper game now. Letting her live wasn't mercy.
It was bait.
He wanted me to bring Jomi in willingly.
Wanted me to believe he was merciful.
But this wasn't mercy.
It was a setup.
And if I didn't play along—he'd cross a line even I wasn't ready for.
Jomiloju's POV
When I woke up, the air had changed.
Steve stood at the window, back rigid, phone in hand.
He didn't look at me when I said his name.
Didn't answer.
So I got up slowly, walked toward him, and wrapped my arms around his waist.
That's when I felt the tremor.
Tiny. Barely there.
But for Steve—the man who didn't flinch under gunfire—it was everything.
"What happened?" I whispered.
He turned, eyes hollowed.
"They released your mom."
My breath caught.
"What? That's good, right?"
He didn't blink.
"No. It's a message."
Then he said it. The words that made my blood run cold:
"He wants you next. Alive. Unharmed. Delivered by me."
Steve's POV
I'd seen Koleosho's kind before.
They didn't shoot their enemies.
They eroded them.
Piece by piece. Love by love. Until the only thing left was a hollow shell—and then they crushed it anyway.
"I'm not giving you to him," I said.
Jomi shook her head.
"Then what?"
"Then I go in alone. Blow a hole in his operation. Burn every file, every name, every account—"
"You won't make it out alive," she interrupted.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
"No," I admitted. "I probably won't."
Jomiloju's POV
It was the first time he spoke about his death like a fact, not a possibility.
And it shattered something in me.
"No," I said. "There has to be another way."
He shook his head. "There's not."
"You promised—"
"I lied."
It wasn't angry. It wasn't cruel.
It was a truth he thought would protect me.
But I wasn't the girl who got off the wrong bus anymore.
I was the girl who stabbed a man in the throat.
The girl who stood in front of Koleosho and didn't blink.
So I walked to the table. Picked up the silver-plated pistol he'd cleaned the night before.
And pointed it at myself.
Steve's face went stone-cold.
"Jomi."
"I'm going with you," I said. "Or I swear to God, I'll end this myself and he'll never get what he wants."
Steve's POV
She wasn't bluffing.
The safety was off.
Her hands didn't shake.
And the look in her eyes?
It was the same look I had when I buried my sister.
Absolute, savage, defiance.
I'd never wanted to kill a man more than I wanted to kill Koleosho right then.
Because he made her feel like this.
He turned my softest thing into a weapon.
I walked toward her slowly.
Took the gun.
Set it down.
Then cradled her face.
"Okay," I whispered. "You're coming with me. But if you die—Jomi, if anything happens to you…"
She touched her forehead to mine.
"Then make sure I don't die."
Jomiloju's POV
The next twenty-four hours passed in war prep.
Steve reached out to two former allies—rogues from the underworld who owed him favors. One was a woman named Abeni, an arms runner who once saved Steve's life. The other, Korede, a tech ghost who could make phones disappear and camera footage rewrite itself.
They didn't ask questions.
Only gave us what we needed.
Fake IDs.
Clean guns.
Disguise kits.
I watched Steve strip the car for tracking devices with military precision.
Then, as the sun dipped low behind smoky Lagos clouds, he handed me a slim envelope.
"What's this?"
"In case I don't make it."
I opened it.
Inside was a legal deed.
To land.
In my name.
A place outside the country.
Safe.
Clean.
Far from blood.
"I bought it the day after our first kiss," he said, voice quiet.
"Why?"
"Because I knew then, Jomi. I knew I was never going to let you go."
Steve's POV
We dressed in black.
Loaded the car.
Didn't speak much.
We weren't just driving to Koleosho's compound.
We were crossing the line we'd never come back from.
This wasn't just about revenge now.
This was about ending the cycle.
Because if we didn't?
It would never stop.
Not for us.
Not for anyone.
Jomiloju's POV
Steve reached for my hand as we pulled into the industrial zone—where Koleosho's network ran drugs, girls, and guns like clockwork.
"I need to ask you something," he said.
"Anything."
"If he catches me… If he tries to break me in front of you…"
My chest ached.
"Steve"
"No. Listen."
His voice was steady. Final.
"If he turns me into what I was before promise me you won't follow."
I squeezed his hand.
Hard.
"No."
"Jomi."
"You protected me when I didn't know who I was. Now I know. And I'm staying until the end."
The silence between us was thick.
And then he whispered it.
The thing he hadn't said since this all began.
"I love you."
Steve's POV
She didn't flinch.
She didn't cry.
She just smiled—so softly it hurt—and said, "Then let's finish this war."