Betrayal never announces itself.
It slips in quietly, wearing familiar faces and borrowed trust.
Ife was folding clothes when Victor's voice cut through the room, sharp and low. "We need to talk. Now."
Arden looked up instantly. "What happened?"
Victor hesitated, which told Ife everything before the words even came.
"We traced the leak," Victor said. "It wasn't random. Someone close to you has been feeding information."
Ife's heart thudded painfully. "Who?"
Victor met her eyes. "Zainab."
The name hit like a slap.
"No," Ife said immediately. "That's not possible."
Zainab was her friend. Her safe place. The one who teased her about Arden, who borrowed her clothes, who knew her routines.
Victor continued carefully. "She didn't know the full truth. She thought she was helping someone with 'business information.' Locations. Schedules."
Ife sank onto the bed slowly.
"She didn't know it would put you in danger," Victor added. "But intention doesn't erase consequence."
Arden moved toward Ife. "I'm so sorry."
Her chest felt hollow. "She sat in this house."
Silence stretched.
"I brought her into my life," Ife whispered. "I trusted her."
Victor cleared his throat. "She's been detained. We'll keep her safe—for now."
Ife stood suddenly. "I need to see her."
Arden shook his head. "It's not safe."
"I need closure," she said firmly. "Or this will eat me alive."
Zainab looked smaller behind the glass.
Her eyes were red. Her confidence gone.
"Ife," she sobbed the moment she saw her. "I didn't know. I swear."
Ife crossed her arms, holding herself together. "You gave them my location."
"I thought it was about money," Zainab cried. "They said Arden was hiding things, that his family was dangerous. I thought I was protecting you."
"You sold my safety," Ife said quietly.
Zainab broke down.
"I never meant to hurt you."
"I know," Ife replied. "That's what makes it worse."
She turned away before the tears fell.
Some betrayals don't come from hatred.
They come from ignorance.
And they hurt just as deeply.
That night, Ife couldn't sleep.
Arden lay beside her, awake, watching the ceiling.
"I should've kept you out of this," he said softly.
She turned toward him. "Don't do that."
"I dragged danger into your life."
"You warned me," she said. "I stayed."
He reached for her hand. "I don't want to lose you."
She squeezed his fingers. "Then stop trying to protect me from the truth. Let me stand with you."
He exhaled slowly. "Okay."
Outside, Lagos hummed.
Inside, love stood wounded—but unbroken.