Jomiloju's POV
There's something no one tells you about killing—or almost killing.
It doesn't harden you immediately.
It softens you first.
You start to feel everything.
Too much.
The breath in your lungs. The blood on your hands. The trembling in your chest. The way his eyes linger on you like he's seeing you for the first time.
And maybe he is.
Because the girl he kidnapped on that rainy night in Lagos…
Was dead.
I had buried her behind the trigger pull.
What remained was someone new. Someone scarred, yes—but willing to scorch everything for love.
And still, it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Steve's POV
I wrapped her hand in mine.
Her palm still trembled from the gun recoil, but her eyes didn't flinch.
She sat in the chapel window, moonlight on her cheek, wearing my shirt and silence like armor.
"She'll live," I said, nodding toward the room where Korede's men were treating Abeni's wound.
Jomi didn't respond.
"You didn't have to shoot her."
"I know."
"You could've let me end it."
"I know that, too."
I tilted her chin toward me.
"So why didn't you?"
She exhaled. "Because I wanted her to remember the woman I've become. And I wanted you to see her."
I did.
God help me, I did.
Jomiloju's POV
He didn't kiss me immediately.
Instead, he cupped my face, tracing my temple with a thumb rough from years of blood.
"I knew you were fire," he whispered. "I didn't know you'd burn this bright."
I swallowed.
"Do you still think I'm soft?"
He shook his head slowly.
"No. I think you're dangerous now."
A pause.
Then, softly
"And I'm in love with that."
The words cracked something open in me.
Something raw.
Vulnerable.
I kissed him then.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just mouths crashing like storms, fingers tearing at buttons, skin against skin as if we could erase everything with contact.
Steve's POV
I took her to the floor of the chapel.
Not the bed.
The floor.
Where we could feel the cold, rough stone under us—reminding us of where we started.
I pulled the shirt from her shoulders, revealing skin like honeyed dusk.
She pressed her mouth to my scars.
Every kiss was an exorcism.
Every sigh, a surrender.
And when I entered her—it was not conquest.
It was rebirth.
We moved slowly. Reverently.
Like the dead crawling out of graves.
And when she cried my name, I didn't hear pain or fear.
I heard power.
Jomiloju's POV
Afterward, we lay in a tangle of limbs and silence.
Our sweat cooled.
Our hearts slowed.
And still, the weight between us lingered.
Not regret.
Unfinished business.
Steve traced his fingers along my hipbone.
"Korede told me something."
I turned.
He looked serious.
"There's another name on Koleosho's offshore list."
My pulse quickened.
"Who?"
He hesitated.
"Your father's old friend. The one who arranged your visa. The one who swore to protect you abroad."
"Uncle Banji?"
Steve nodded grimly.
"He's the reason you got kidnapped. He leaked your return date to Koleosho's men. For money."
Jomiloju's POV
I sat up, shaking.
That couldn't be true.
Uncle Banji was family. He'd sent me money in London. He'd helped with my school fees when my father's accounts froze. He called every month.
"You're sure?"
Steve looked pained.
"I wouldn't tell you unless I was."
My mind reeled.
Another betrayal.
Another knife in the back disguised as love.
I clenched my fists.
"What happens to him now?"
Steve didn't answer.
Because he knew it wasn't his choice anymore.
It was mine.
Steve's POV
She asked to go alone.
To face Banji.
To decide.
I let her.
But I followed, twenty minutes behind.
I couldn't risk her walking into a trap.
When I arrived, she was already standing in the middle of the old abandoned train yard.
Banji knelt in front of her, sobbing.
"No! Jomi, no! I only did it for the money—I didn't know they'd take you like that!"
She didn't speak.
She just held a gun at her side.
Loose. Calm.
Deadly.
Jomiloju's POV
I had never seen a man cry like that.
It didn't move me.
Not anymore.
Not when I thought about what I'd been through.
What Steve had suffered.
What had been stolen from us.
"I trusted you," I said, voice flat. "You were family."
Banji crawled forward.
"I swear—I didn't mean for it to go that far. I thought they'd scare your father, not take you."
"You sold me."
He froze.
I raised the gun.
Steve's POV
I was behind the container, hidden, watching.
I didn't want to interfere.
This was her trial now.
Her baptism by fire.
Banji trembled.
"Please. Please, baby girl. I'm sorry"
Click.
She raised the safety.
Held the gun steady.
And fired.
Into the ground.
Jomiloju's POV
"I don't need to kill you," I whispered.
"You'll carry this for the rest of your life."
I turned, walked away, gun lowered.
Behind me, Banji collapsed into a sobbing heap.
And in that moment, I knew…
I'd burned away the last part of my past.
But somehow, I still stood.
Still bloomed.
Even in ash.
Steve's POV
She walked into my arms at the edge of the trainyard.
I wrapped her in silence.
Pride flooded through me.
She hadn't needed vengeance to feel strong.
She'd found power in mercy.
"Does it ever stop hurting?" she asked quietly.
"No," I answered truthfully. "But we get better at living around the pain."
She nodded.
Then looked at me with a softness that could shatter cities.
"Take me home."