Jomiloju's POV
The victory at the docks was a bitter kind of triumph. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a heavy exhaustion that settled in my bones. We returned to the safehouse bruised — some physical, some invisible — the kind that burrowed deep beneath the skin and whispered that this fight was far from over.
I caught Steve's eyes across the room. He was a man sharpened by violence and betrayal, every movement precise, every breath calculated. But when our gazes met, there was a flicker — something soft, almost vulnerable — hidden beneath the mask of the cold enforcer.
My heart twisted. The city outside was ruthless, but so was the war we had chosen to fight.
"We can't let our guard down," Steve said quietly, voice low enough that only I could hear.
I nodded, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
Steve's POV
She was standing there, the fire in her eyes still burning bright despite everything. That fire was rare — not just in Lagos, but in the world I inhabited.
Her courage was the kind that made me want to fight harder, to protect her no matter the cost.
But beneath that strength, I saw cracks. Moments when doubt flickered in her eyes, moments when the weight of our reality threatened to crush her spirit.
"Jomi," I said, stepping closer. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry it alone."
She gave me a faint smile, but I could tell the battle inside her was far from over.
Jomiloju's POV
That night, sleep was a stranger.
I lay awake beside Steve, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing — the only constant in a world gone mad.
The memories swirled in my mind, a torrent of fear and pain. The kidnapping. The darkness. The betrayal.
I reached out and touched the rough callouses on his hand — a silent reminder of his battles, his scars, and maybe, just maybe, his heart.
Love was complicated. It was fragile and fierce all at once.
Steve's POV
Morning brought with it a new kind of threat.
Under the door slipped a message, simple and chilling — a single black rose pressed between folded paper, soaked in something dark.
A warning.
We were no longer just fighting Koleosho.
Someone else was pulling strings from the shadows.
I studied Jomi's face, saw the question in her eyes.
"Who sent this?" she asked, voice steady but trembling.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I'll find out."
Jomiloju's POV
Fear threatened to consume me, but I pushed it down.
I refused to be a victim again.
This war demanded more than courage — it demanded cunning, heart, and resolve.
I met Steve's gaze, a silent promise passing between us: we would face whatever came next. Together.
Steve's POV
Tensions had been simmering beneath the surface for days.
That night, everything boiled over.
Words were thrown like knives — sharp and cutting.
I saw the pain behind Jomi's brave mask.
She wasn't just my lover.
She was my equal.
And I had to prove it.
Jomiloju's POV
I told him the truth — the raw, unvarnished fear I'd kept hidden.
That the life I'd dreamed of — freedom, love, peace — felt like slipping sand.
But Steve didn't recoil.
He pulled me close, whispered promises that steadied my shaking heart.
In that moment, I believed in us.
Steve's POV
We stood at the edge of a breaking point — but maybe together, we could hold the pieces.
Outside, the city roared with violence and secrets.
Inside, I found something I hadn't thought possible — hope.
Hope born in the darkest night, in the smallest touch, in the fiercest love.
Jomiloju's POV
The path ahead was uncertain.
Enemies lurked in every shadow.
But with Steve beside me, I knew one thing.
We would fight.
Not just to survive — but to live.
To reclaim what was stolen.
To become more than victims.
To become legends.