Jomiloju's POV
The war had ended in a vault.
But the real battle—the one inside our hearts—was just beginning.
Steve hadn't spoken much since we returned to the chapel. The vault, the AI, the letter he refused to open… it had stirred something old in him. Something heavy.
He sat on the edge of the altar now, bathed in a slice of moonlight through stained glass.
Silent. Still.
The underworld's deadliest man looked… haunted.
I stood at the threshold, watching him.
"I want to get married," I said.
His head turned.
Slow. Surprised.
Not because he didn't expect it.
But because he didn't believe he deserved it.
Steve's POV
She didn't flinch when she said it.
No hesitation. No romantic fluff.
Just truth.
I stared at her. Her braids tied up. A bruise still faint on her jaw from two nights ago. A bloodstain on her shirt sleeve she hadn't noticed.
She looked like a queen that had survived fire.
And she still wanted me.
"You sure?" I asked, voice rough.
"You almost died for me, Steve."
She walked forward.
"I almost killed for you."
She stopped in front of me.
"No one comes back from that kind of love and goes back to normal. Either we do this, or we fall apart."
Jomiloju's POV
He didn't answer with words.
He pulled a black velvet box from his coat pocket.
I gasped.
He opened it.
Inside: a ring.
Not a diamond. Not gold.
A carved obsidian band with a single red ruby set in the center like a drop of blood.
"I had it made the week we escaped the city," he said.
He looked at me, voice low.
"I didn't think I'd ever use it."
My throat tightened.
I didn't cry.
Not until he knelt.
Not until he said, "You're the only peace I've ever known."
Not until I whispered, "Yes."
Steve's POV
We didn't tell anyone.
Not Korede. Not the priest. Not even her mother.
It was better that way.
We'd lived too long in the spotlight of violence.
This… was just for us.
I called in a favor with Abeni, the arms runner.
She owed me blood. Paid me in silk.
By nightfall, Jomi had a dress.
Red. Velvet. Backless.
She looked like sin rewritten into royalty.
I wore black. No tie. Just my father's cufflinks and the scent of gun oil still lingering on my skin.
We got married in a candlelit backroom behind the chapel.
No guests.
Just vows and shadows.
And a kiss that tasted like war and rebirth.
Jomiloju's POV
The priest read his lines from memory.
Steve didn't say "I do."
He said, "Always."
And it shattered me.
After everything—after the kidnapping, the guns, the threats, the lies—we had arrived here.
Not whole.
Not healed.
But together.
And that was enough.
He slid the obsidian ring on my finger.
I traced the scar on his cheek.
And when he kissed me, he didn't hold back.
Steve's POV
We didn't wait.
When we reached the room upstairs, I pinned her to the wall with a hunger I hadn't let surface in weeks.
Not because I didn't want her.
But because I was afraid she'd disappear if I touched her too hard.
But tonight?
There was no fear.
Only truth.
My fingers undid the ties on her dress like a man disarming a bomb. Gentle. Careful.
Her hands tugged my shirt until buttons popped, nails dragging across my chest.
Every movement was a confession.
Every breath, a prayer.
We made love like we were building a new world between our bodies—one without codes or war or shadows.
Just skin. And promises.
Jomiloju's POV
Afterward, I lay tangled in sheets, my head on his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos.
"I feel… safe," I whispered.
I hadn't felt that in years.
Maybe never.
He didn't speak.
But he held me tighter.
And that was answer enough.
Until the door banged open.
Steve's POV
Gun in hand in two seconds.
Korede burst into the room, panting, pale.
He held up his phone.
"Sorry to ruin the honeymoon," he rasped. "But someone's leaked your marriage certificate to her."
My heart dropped.
"Her who?"
Korede flipped the screen.
Koleosho's daughter.
The woman I once promised to marry… before she turned assassin.
Abeni.