Morning didn't bring peace. It brought rules.
Victor stood in the living room with his usual stiff posture, tablet in hand, eyes sharp. Arden listened quietly, jaw clenched. Ife leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, absorbing every word.
"No solo outings," Victor said. "Routes change daily. Phones stay on at all times. No visitors without clearance."
Ife let out a small, humorless laugh. "I feel like I've been arrested."
Victor glanced at her. "You've been protected."
"Those don't feel the same," she replied.
Arden shifted. "Victor—"
"It's temporary," Victor cut in. "Until we neutralize the threat."
Ife watched Arden's face carefully. He didn't look reassured. He looked resigned.
That scared her.
When Victor finally left, the apartment felt smaller, like the walls had moved closer.
"So," Ife said lightly, trying to mask the weight in her chest. "Is this how you've lived all this time?"
Arden leaned against the counter, rubbing his neck. "More or less."
She turned to him. "And you were okay with that?"
He hesitated. "I didn't know there was another option."
The words settled between them, heavy and sad.
Later that afternoon, Ife stood by the window, watching Lagos pulse below. Life went on—vendors shouting, cars honking, laughter floating up from the street.
Freedom was right there.
And yet, it felt unreachable.
Arden joined her quietly. "I hate that you're trapped because of me."
She shook her head. "I chose this."
"You didn't choose the consequences."
She turned to face him. "You don't get to decide how much I can handle."
His eyes softened. "You're braver than you think."
She smiled faintly. "So are you."
For a moment, the world faded.
Then the doorbell rang.
Victor's voice crackled through the intercom. "She's here."
Arden stiffened instantly.
"I told her not to come," he muttered.
"Who?" Ife asked.
Before he could answer, Clara stepped inside like she owned the air itself.
Elegant. Composed. Dangerous.
"So this is Lagos," Clara said smoothly. "Messy. Loud. Alive."
Her eyes landed on Ife. "You must be the reason Arden's forgotten his instincts."
Ife didn't flinch. "And you must be the reason he learned to hide them."
Clara's lips curved slightly. "Clever."
Arden stepped between them. "Leave."
Clara sighed. "You're making emotional decisions. That's unlike you."
"I've changed."
"People like us don't change," she replied calmly. "We choose what we can afford to lose."
Ife stepped forward. "And what if love is worth losing everything?"
Clara looked at her for a long moment. "Then you'll both pay for it."
She turned to Arden. "Your father won't protect you forever."
"Neither will threats," he said.
Clara smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Arden."
When she left, silence swallowed the room.
That night, tension finally cracked.
"You're still holding back," Ife said quietly as they sat on the bed. "I can feel it."
Arden stared at his hands. "I don't want to scare you."
"I'm already scared," she replied. "What scares me more is not knowing who you really are."
He exhaled slowly. "My father built his empire by destroying people who stood in his way."
Her breath caught.
"He taught me survival before morality," Arden continued. "I learned how to lie. How to disappear. How to walk away."
"And love?" she asked softly.
He looked up at her. "Love was never part of the plan."
She moved closer, knees touching his. "But it's here now."
"Yes," he whispered. "And that terrifies me."
She cupped his face gently. "It terrifies me too."
Their kiss wasn't rushed. It was slow, deliberate—like a promise neither of them fully understood yet.
He rested his forehead against hers. "If you leave, I won't blame you."
She smiled sadly. "I don't want a safe love, Arden. I want a real one."
He pulled her into his arms, holding her like something precious.
Outside, the city buzzed.
Inside, lines had been crossed—truths exposed, fears spoken.
Love was no longer just feeling.
It was a choice.
And once chosen, it couldn't be unseen.