[JOMILOJU'S POV]
If only I'd called ahead.
If only I hadn't craved the drama of surprising my parents after three years abroad.
If only I hadn't boarded that bus.
But "if only" doesn't change the ending.
That morning, Lagos greeted me with its usual chaos—humid air, shouting drivers, the tang of roasted plantain and car fumes mingling like perfume. I hadn't stepped foot in this city since I was eighteen. Now, at twenty-one, I was back. Changed. Bolder. Braver. Or so I thought.
I clutched my carry-on tighter and scanned the road outside the airport. No security, no press. Just me, the heat, and my perfect plan.
Surprise them. Hug them. Demand answers for the silence they left in my childhood.
But fate had other plans.
"Going Island side, fine girl?" one of the bus drivers shouted, leaning out the window of a beat-up mini-bus.
"Yeah. Ikoyi," I replied.
He pointed. "That one's going. Last seat!"
I didn't double-check. I should have. I stepped inside and didn't look back.
Twenty minutes in, the city was gone.
Skyscrapers faded. The roads narrowed. Buildings gave way to bushland and broken fences. Even the sunlight seemed to dim.
"Driver, I said I'm going to Ikoyi," I said, tapping the seat in front of me.
No one answered.
The man beside me wore a hoodie. His hand rested on something bulging beneath his coat. My heart skipped.
"Driver!" I snapped, louder.
The door was locked.
I stood up—and the moment I did, a heavy hand clamped over my mouth.
I screamed into it, thrashed wildly, but another set of arms grabbed me from behind.
I kicked.
I bit.
Then I felt the cloth over my nose.
The sharp, sweet chemical burn of chloroform.
And everything went dark.
[STEVE'S POV]
She was smaller than I expected.
The daughter of Lagos's kingpin politician—Jomiloju Dorotoye—now unconscious, fragile, and curled like a rosebud in the backseat of my SUV.
I shouldn't have felt anything. This was business. A message to her father. A debt he would finally pay.
And yet... I couldn't stop looking at her.
Perfect skin. Long lashes. Lips parted in the soft rhythm of sleep. There was a dangerous innocence about her.
Chief Koleosho wanted her untouched. Alive. Untamed. "She's your leverage now, Steve," he'd said. "Just don't fall for her."
That was the mistake he made once—with my mother.
Now I was the result. A ghost walking the line between revenge and ruin.
I glanced at her again.
And that's when it hit me.
She wasn't just a message.
She was going to change everything.
[JOMILOJU'S POV]
The first thing I felt was heat.
The second was fear.
The third… his eyes.
I sat up too fast on the strange bed. A cold sweat clung to my back. My silk robe—definitely not what I wore earlier—was too thin, too revealing.
I was in a strange room. Brick walls. One window barred. No clock. No phone.
The door opened.
And then I saw him.
Tall. Dark. Tattoos snaking up both arms. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. His presence… lethal.
My heart stopped.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice a ragged whisper.
The man didn't blink. "Steve."
"Where am I?"
He smiled, slow and dangerous. "Safe. For now."
I wrapped the robe tighter. "Why am I here?"
He stepped closer. I stepped back.
"You're here," he said softly, "because your father thinks he can erase the past."
"What does that have to do with me?!"
"Everything."
[STEVE'S POV]
She didn't know.
Good. That made it easier.
"You were a child when he destroyed my family," I said, watching her flinch. "But you're not a child now."
She looked like she wanted to slap me. Or scream. Or run.
I almost wanted her to try. I liked her fire. It reminded me that I wasn't dead inside.
"You're not going to hurt me," she said suddenly.
I tilted my head. "No?"
"Because if you were, you'd have done it already."
I grinned. Sharp girl.
But she was wrong.
Hurting her was never the plan.
Loving her? That was the problem.
[JOMILOJU'S POV]
I waited until he left to cry.
Only for a moment.
I didn't know who this man was—or what war my father had dragged me into. But one thing was clear:
This wasn't a simple ransom.
This was personal.
And the scariest part?
Somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the fear…
I didn't just want to escape him.
I wanted to understand him.
And that might be more dangerous than anything else.
TO BE CONTINUED…