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Chapter 21 - The One I Didn’t Kill

Steve's POV

There are only three people in this world I ever regret not killing.

Abeni Koleosho is at the top of the list.

She was my unfinished mistake—once my secret lover, once my would-be executioner. Cold. Elegant. Brilliant in the worst ways. She knew how to smile with venom and kiss with steel.

And now she knew I was married.

Korede handed me the phone.

Her message was simple.

"I'm coming. Don't run, darling. You owe me a wedding gift."

My jaw clenched.

"She's bluffing," Jomi said from behind me.

"No," I replied. "She never bluffs."

Jomiloju's POV

I sat on the bed, clutching the obsidian ring.

It still felt unreal—our wedding, our vows, our moment of peace.

But Steve's past had other plans.

He paced the room like a storm, shirtless, muscles tense, tattoos twitching with every breath. His phone buzzed again.

This time, a photo.

Abeni in a gold dress.

Holding a knife.

Standing outside our safehouse.

My pulse skipped.

"She's here."

Steve's POV

The chapel wasn't safe anymore.

I checked the cams—front gate hacked, guards unconscious.

She hadn't killed them.

Not yet.

Because Abeni didn't want war.

She wanted a performance.

And I was her stage.

I turned to Jomi. "Stay inside. Lock the door."

"No."

She stood, barefoot in the red wedding dress, hair wild, eyes fire.

"I'm your wife now. I don't run from your ghosts."

I didn't argue.

I just kissed her—hard, fast.

And walked into the storm.

Jomiloju's POV

Steve stepped into the courtyard like a blade.

Moonlight caught on his scars.

Abeni was waiting—barefoot, smug, her gold dress slit to the thigh, a pistol dangling from one hand.

"Steven," she purred, "I missed you."

He didn't respond.

"You married her."

Still nothing.

"So dramatic," she sighed. "You could've at least invited me. I would've worn white… to your funeral."

He raised his gun.

She smiled wider.

"You won't shoot me. You never could."

She stepped forward.

One step. Two.

And stopped in front of him.

"Because I'm the only one who ever told you the truth," she whispered.

"You were born for this darkness. You'll never leave it."

Steve's POV

She was wrong.

But for a second, I believed her.

Because Abeni knew which wounds still bled.

"You're not here for closure," I said. "What do you want?"

Her smile faded.

"I want a deal."

I lowered the gun.

"Talk."

"I have what's left of Koleosho's offshore files. Names. Accounts. Leverage."

"And?"

She walked around me like a panther.

"And I'll give it to you—if you give me what I want."

I already hated the answer.

But I asked anyway.

"What do you want?"

She stopped.

Turned.

And dropped the bomb.

"A child."

Jomiloju's POV

I heard it from the window.

My stomach dropped.

I wanted to scream.

But I didn't.

Because in that moment, Steve didn't flinch. Didn't waver.

He stepped closer.

"You want me to give you a child?"

Abeni's eyes glittered.

"One heir. That's the deal. You walk away from the underworld, I raise the last piece of your legacy. Clean. Safe. My way."

It made no sense.

Unless

Korede's voice buzzed through the hidden earpiece I still wore.

"She's lying. The files she claims to have? I already decrypted them. They're fake. This is personal."

I grabbed the pistol from under the mattress and ran.

Steve's POV

I didn't blink.

Didn't breathe.

"Why?" I asked.

Abeni's lips trembled—for a moment, the mask cracked.

"Because I loved you first."

And then she raised the gun.

I ducked left—too slow.

The shot grazed my ribs.

Pain exploded.

And then

Bang.

She dropped to the ground.

Leg wound.

Jomi stood behind her.

Smoke curling from her barrel.

Jomiloju's POV

"You missed his heart," I said calmly.

Abeni screamed, clutching her thigh.

"You—witch! You'll never survive this!"

"Neither will you," I replied. "But guess what?"

I stepped forward.

"I didn't shoot to kill. Because I want you to crawl away and remember—he doesn't belong to you anymore."

She bled out curses as she was dragged away.

Korede's men handled the cleanup.

But I kept the gun in my hand.

Because something in me had changed.

Steve's POV

She stood there.

Red dress. Gun in hand. Eyes cold.

And I knew…

She wasn't my stolen rose anymore.

She was the queen of thorns.

"Come here," I whispered.

She dropped the gun.

Fell into my arms.

We held each other like survivors. Like warriors.

And when she kissed me—it was no longer about rescue or escape.

It was about power.

Shared. Earned.

And feared.

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