THIRD-PERSON POV
Morning found the city unchanged.
But Akanni was not.
By the time the sun rose, calls had already begun—formal invitations, official congratulations, proposals from men who once overlooked him.
He answered none.
Instead, he stood by the window with Mira, coffee untouched, watching the world wake.
For the first time in years, he was not planning the next move.
He was present.
Below, the city continued unaware that a quiet king had reclaimed his throne—not with vengeance, but with grace.
Behind him, Mira smiled.
The year had turned.
So had their lives.
And somewhere in the distance, the echo of chaos faded—replaced by something far more dangerous.
Peace.