The convoy rolled out of the estate gates just after noon, two black SUVs gliding down the private road like shadows moving through sunlight. The security team had settled into a practiced rhythm—front car with two guards, back car with another pair—while Kian took the passenger seat beside the driver in Selene's vehicle. His eyes scanned the mirrors, the sidewalks, the rooftops, the blind corners—anything that could hide danger.
Selene sat in the backseat, legs crossed, sunglasses on, acting as if a protection detail was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. But Kian saw everything—the slight tightness in her jaw, the way her fingers curled against her thigh whenever they passed a parked van or suspicious corner.
She wasn't as unaffected as she pretended.
Her mother's enemies had reached Lagos. The threat level had changed.
And instinct whispered that something felt… off.
Not the usual off. Dangerously off.
Kian rested a hand on the grip of his concealed pistol.
His training was loud in his skull.
Check sightlines.
Check reflective windows.
Check high vantage points.
Check shadows that move wrong.
Every turn of the road felt heavier.
"Everything alright?" the driver muttered, noticing Kian's stiffened posture.
"Something's off," Kian murmured. He couldn't explain it—just the atmosphere, the tension, the way the city seemed to have dropped into an unnatural silence.
The route they were taking wasn't the original one he planned. At the last minute, Jason had texted:
"Kian, switch route B traffic buildup ahead. Source says it's safer. Trust me."
Kian trusted Jason.
They had bled together in the infantry.
Jason had never betrayed him.
But as they drove deeper into route B, a cramped industrial area with tight roads and abandoned warehouses…
Kian felt a chill run up his spine.
Not safer.
Wrong.
Very wrong.
From the backseat, Selene watched Kian through the slight reflection in the window.
He was rigid.
Focused.
Every sense sharpened.
It struck her—not for the first time—that Kian moved like someone who had seen hell and survived it with scars he didn't speak about.
She wasn't used to relying on anyone.
Not emotionally.
Not physically.
Not for protection.
But with him…
For the first time, she didn't feel completely vulnerable.
Still, her pulse thrummed uneasily.
"Kian," she said softly. "You see something?"
He didn't turn.
"Not yet," he said. "But stay alert."
That was all she needed to hear.
The road narrowed into a tight corridor between stacked shipping containers and old factory buildings.
Kian's chest tightened.
High vantage points.
Zero escape lanes.
Too quiet.
No pedestrians.
No moving vehicles.
An ambush tunnel.
"Driver," Kian said sharply. "Slow down. Something's wro—"
CRACK!
The world snapped.
A high-caliber sniper round punched cleanly through the front windshield, straight through the driver's forehead.
Blood sprayed across the glass.
The SUV swerved violently.
"KIAN!" Selene screamed.
Kian grabbed the wheel before the vehicle could slam into the right wall, muscles straining as he fought the weight of the moving car.
Another shot shattered the rear window.
"Down!" Kian barked.
Selene dropped instantly, curling behind the seat, heart hammering.
In the lead car, chaos erupted—shouts, radio static, the screech of brakes.
Kian kept the SUV steady with one hand while reaching for the radio.
"All units, sniper fire, sniper fire! Rooftop northwest side!"
But something hit him—
A realization.
The position of the shooter.
The choice of timing.
The changed route.
Someone told the shooter exactly where they'd be.
Exactly which car Selene was in.
This wasn't random.
This was orchestrated.
"Hold on!" he yelled to Selene as he slammed the car behind the shelter of a stack of shipping containers.
Bullets followed, ricocheting off metal, sharp sparks exploding in the air.
Selene pressed her palms over her ears, chest rising and falling in rapid, panicked breaths. She tried to stay calm, but the crack of bullets, the metallic groan of the car being struck—it all clawed at her composure.
"Kian!" she shouted.
He turned back, eyes fierce, breath ragged.
"You're okay. Stay low."
Another bullet tore through the backseat, embedding itself inches from her thigh.
Her voice broke. "They're going to kill us—"
"No," Kian said, his tone cutting through her panic like steel.
"I won't let that happen."
For a moment she believed him.
Not because he said it, but because of the fire in his eyes.
A fire that promised violence, protectiveness, and absolute certainty.
Kian kicked open the passenger door, crouching as another sniper round slammed into the metal near his head.
He scanned the rooftops.
Then he saw him—a dark-clad silhouette lying prone atop a rusted warehouse roof.
Distance: 300 meters.
Wind speed: minimal.
Angle: possible.
He couldn't outshoot a sniper without a rifle.
But he could outmaneuver one.
"Kian!" Selene cried from inside the SUV. "Don't leave me!"
"I'm not," he said. "Stay down. I'm ending this."
He sprinted from cover to cover, keeping low, using the abandoned trucks and machinery as shields while he closed the distance.
The sniper fired again.
The bullet whistled past Kian's shoulder.
He dove behind a concrete block.
Through the crack in the structure, he caught sight of the sniper loading another round.
But that wasn't what froze Kian's breath.
Behind the sniper…
A second figure.
A spotter.
Dressed in black.
Communicating through a headset.
Not just a hitman team.
A professional kill squad.
And if there was a spotter…
Someone was feeding them information in real time.
Someone on the inside.
Selene flinched as another wave of bullets hammered the SUV.
She crawled from the backseat to the floorboard, trying to make her trembling stop, trying to silence the fear clawing in her throat.
She hated fear.
Hated weakness.
But she wasn't numb.
Not today.
"Kian…" she whispered into the silence.
She didn't know if he could hear her.
She didn't even know if he was alive.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She reached for it with shaking fingers.
A new message.
Unknown number."You should've stayed home, Selene."
Her blood turned to ice.
Another message followed instantly: "We're not here for him. We're here for you."
Then a third: "Tell me…Did your mother mention who betrayed her?"
She froze. As the wind carried the echo of a fresh sniper shot…Selene realized this wasn't just an attack.
This was a warning.
A message.
A beginning.
Kian made it halfway to the warehouse when a sharp glint caught his eye—a second rifle, positioned at an even higher vantage point.
A second sniper.
It was a crossfire trap.
He spun, grabbing his radio.
"Selene! Stay down, don't move—"
BANG!
A shot cracked the sky.
This one wasn't aimed at the SUV.
Or at Kian.
It hit something else.
Something that exploded in a burst of white sparks.
Kian looked up with horror.
The sniper had shot—
The overhead crane holding a shipping container.
The massive metal container groaned, chains snapping.
And then—
It began to fall.
Directly toward the SUV where Selene was hiding.
Kian screamed her name— "SELENE!"