Jomiloju's POV
I didn't expect him to fall apart.
Not after everything Steve had done. Not after the blood, the violence, the power he wore like armor.
But that night—after he killed the man who haunted him for twenty years—he cried.
Not like a boy.
Not like a coward.
He cried like a king with no kingdom left to burn.
And in that moment, I didn't see a mafia boss.
I saw the boy who watched his sister die.
The man who never allowed himself to feel.
Until now.
Steve's POV
Her fingers combed through my hair as I leaned against her shoulder.
We were still in the car, the engine off, the world quiet around us.
I hadn't meant to break.
But grief is strange—it doesn't always come when you lose someone.
Sometimes, it comes when you finally stop fighting.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She tilted my face toward her.
"For what?"
"For making you walk through hell with me."
Her voice was soft. Firm.
"I didn't walk through hell. I chose it. With you."
And I believed her.
God help me, I believed her.
Jomiloju's POV
We got a hotel that night.
Not because we needed one—but because the safehouse felt tainted.
Too many ghosts.
Too much war.
The room was plain. Clean. Two twin beds pushed together. No guards. No secrets. Just us.
I sat by the window in Steve's oversized hoodie, watching the city breathe.
He walked out of the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, water glistening on his chest, eyes shadowed but softer now.
For once, he didn't ask for space.
He came straight to me.
Kissed me slow.
Gentle.
Like a man remembering how.
Steve's POV
She touched me like I was breakable.
And maybe I was.
Because for the first time, I didn't feel the urge to dominate. To conquer. To prove I wasn't weak.
I just wanted her.
All of her.
And I wanted her to want me—not the broken soldier, not the feared enforcer, but the man beneath.
We undressed slowly.
Clothes falling like armor we no longer needed.
When I laid her on the bed, she pulled me down with her.
Her breath warm against my neck. Her legs curling around me like safety.
And when I entered her, it was different this time.
No rush.
No rage.
Just reverence.
Jomiloju's POV
He moved inside me like he was memorizing me.
Every inch. Every breath.
And I let him.
Because I wasn't trying to survive anymore.
I was trying to feel.
We whispered no names, no curses—just sounds. Just skin and mouth and connection.
It felt like we were learning each other all over again.
Without threat.
Without chains.
Only desire.
Only love.
He kissed my stomach after. Then my scars. Then the inside of my wrist.
"You've become my compass," he murmured.
I smiled.
"And you've become my home."
Steve's POV
We lay there after, tangled and still, the city humming beyond the window like a lullaby.
I wanted to freeze the moment.
But peace, I knew, was always temporary.
The underworld doesn't forget its kings—especially when they try to abdicate the throne.
My burner phone buzzed once.
A code from Korede.
"She's moving."
I didn't need to ask who "she" was.
Abeni.
Still alive.
Still dangerous.
Still playing games.
But I wouldn't let her win.
Not this time.
Jomiloju's POV
He didn't tell me what the text said.
But I knew it was bad.
I saw the flicker of war return to his eyes—the one he tried to hide from me.
"Whatever it is," I said, "don't push me away again."
He looked at me.
Really looked.
Like a man staring down fate and wondering if love could hold the line.
"I don't know how to protect you and keep you close," he admitted.
I walked toward him.
Wrapped my arms around his waist.
"You protect me by keeping me close."
And then I kissed him.
Slow. Sure.
This time, I led the fire.
Steve's POV
I used to think love was weakness.
Now I realized…
Love is war, too.
The kind worth fighting.
And she was worth every bullet, every scar, every choice I'd ever made.
Even the wrong ones.
I let her guide me back to bed.
And in the silence that followed, I held her like the world was ending.
Because maybe, for us, it had.
And maybe now, we could build something new from the rubble.
Jomiloju's POV
I woke up before him.
Watched him sleep.
The scars on his chest. The frown lines even in rest. The man beneath the monster.
I used to wonder if I could ever forgive him for kidnapping me.
But now I knew the truth—
He didn't steal me.
He set me free.
And I would never belong to anyone else.
Not in this life.
Not in the next.