Jomiloju's POV
There are silences that soothe.
And then there are the kinds that drown you.
The moment the door closed behind Steve and that woman—her blood-soaked envelope still burned into my mind—the silence in the room began to suffocate me.
She was beautiful. Not in a delicate, breakable way like some of the Lagos girls I knew, but in that dangerous, knife-under-the-lip kind of way. Sharp angles. Poison in her smile.
Steve knew her. That much was clear.
And not in the way you know your enemies.
But in the way you know your sins.
I stood slowly, pacing the length of the small room, hands cold, stomach tight. The photograph of his sister still lay on the floor where we'd sat just minutes before—so fragile compared to the storm now unfolding outside the door.
The last thing I heard was the woman's voice, smooth and smug.
"Miss me, Steve?"
I hated how much it bothered me.
Hated that the tightness in my chest wasn't fear.
It was jealousy.
That ugly, unwelcome thing I didn't know I was capable of.
Steve's POV
Selina Devereux was the last ghost I expected to see on my doorstep.
"You've got blood on you," I said flatly.
She smiled, unfazed. "Not mine."
I eyed the envelope in her hands. "Who sent you?"
She tilted her head. "Same people who are paying to see you dead."
I sighed, closing the door behind me. We stood in the hallway just outside the safehouse—me, tense and calculating, and her, a viper coiled in silk.
She held the envelope out. "You're going to want to see this."
Blood seeped through the corners. I didn't reach for it.
"What's inside?"
"A list. Your name's at the top."
"And the rest?"
"Men Koleosho paid to kill you."
I finally took it. My name was scrawled in ink on the cover: ADEWALE, STEVE.
I swallowed. "Why bring it to me?"
"Because I'm not working for him anymore."
I laughed bitterly. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"
She moved closer, her perfume laced with gunpowder and roses.
"Believe what you want. But you're not the only one going rogue, Steve. The empire's crumbling. You just lit the first match."
Jomiloju's POV
Minutes turned into nearly an hour.
I sat back down on the mattress, arms wrapped around my knees, trying to stop the thoughts from spinning.
Who was she?
An ex?
A partner in crime?
Someone he once trusted… or someone who once betrayed him?
My mind flooded with memories of how he looked at me earlier that day—how his fingers brushed my cheek, how his voice cracked when he spoke of his sister.
Was that real?
Or was I just the newest version of something he'd done a hundred times?
I didn't want to believe that.
But doubt?
Doubt was sneaky. It crawled in through the cracks.
And Steve?
He was nothing but cracks in human skin.
Steve's POV
I burned the envelope in the alley out back.
Names like ghosts vanished into flame—mine, past allies, a few men I once considered brothers.
"Why now?" I asked Selina.
"Because he's getting desperate," she replied. "And desperate men bleed fast."
She turned to leave, but not before pausing at the foot of the stairs.
"Who's the girl inside?" she asked, voice sweet and venom-laced.
I said nothing.
But my silence was answer enough.
Selina smirked. "Be careful, Steve. Falling for your hostage? That's a new low—even for you."
Then she vanished into the night, leaving behind only smoke and old wounds.
Jomiloju's POV
He came back smelling like burnt paper and secrets.
His jaw was tight. His knuckles, bloody.
He didn't speak.
Neither did I.
He sat on the chair across the room like we were strangers again, like hours ago hadn't happened at all.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
"Who was she?"
He looked up. Sharp. Caught.
I hated that he hesitated.
"A mistake," he said simply.
"Old lover?"
"Yes."
That one word—sharp and short—shouldn't have hurt the way it did.
But it did.
"Does she know you're keeping me here?"
His silence said yes.
I stood, suddenly suffocated by how small the room felt.
"She looked at me like she already decided I was going to die."
"She doesn't get to decide anything anymore," he said.
"But she used to," I snapped. "Didn't she?"
Steve's POV
I didn't know how to explain Selina.
She was a storm I should've never walked into.
And Jomi
She was the calm I didn't think I deserved.
"You think I don't see it?" she said. "Every time you look at me, you're waiting for me to break. Or beg. Or run."
"I'm not," I said.
"Yes, you are," she whispered. "But I'm not breaking, Steve. I'm not your weakness."
That hit me harder than any bullet I'd taken.
Because she was right.
She wasn't my weakness.
She was the only part of me left that wasn't already burned.
Jomiloju's POV
He crossed the room in two steps, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me.
He didn't.
Instead, he reached for my wrist—the one with the bracelet.
His fingers were gentle, tracing the rose charm like it meant more than words could say.
"I gave this to you because Tola would've liked you," he murmured.
My breath caught.
"Would she have forgiven you for what you've become?" I asked.
He flinched.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But maybe you will."
It was the closest thing to an apology I'd ever heard from him.
And it broke me in the quietest, most painful way.
Steve's POV
We didn't sleep that night.
Not because of threats or danger.
But because sometimes the worst storms are the ones inside.
She curled on the mattress, wide-eyed, facing the wall.
I watched her from the chair, unable to close my eyes.
Not when I knew Selina had marked us both.
Not when I knew Koleosho was closing in.
And not when I realized…
I didn't just want to protect her anymore.
I wanted to keep her.
Jomiloju's POV
I should've been more afraid.
But fear had long since given way to something else.
Something like loyalty.
Or something dangerous enough to feel like love.
When dawn crept through the window, Steve stood.
"We have to move. Tonight."
"Where?" I asked.
"To a place no one can find us."
He didn't elaborate.
And I didn't ask.
Because for better or worse…
I wasn't ready to leave him behind.
Not yet.