Kwame walked Amara home, the night air buzzing with unspoken tension. They stopped at her door, the silence between them palpable.
"Thanks for tonight," Amara said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kwame leaned in, his voice low and husky. "Anytime, Naija queen."
Their lips met – slow, sweet, and electrifying. Amara's phone buzzed, breaking the spell. Aisha's text: "Zara's in trouble."
Amara pulled back, worry etched on her face. "It's my sister."
Kwame's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
Amara quickly explained Zara's deal with The Market. Kwame's jaw cliked. "We'll handle it."
Zara messaged: "Aisha's safe. But The Market's watching."
Amara turned to Kwame, determination in her eyes. "Guess we're in this together."
Kwame smiled, a fierce glint in his eye. "You, me, and Lagos."