DON'T DOUBT LOVE) loving you no matter what

MAYA'S POV

The safe house reeked of mildew and

gunpowder. I counted the cracks in the ceiling—thirty-seven—anything to avoid looking at Tahir sleeping on the floor beside me.

His jacket was draped over my shoulders. Charcoal and expensive cologne. I should've thrown it off.

Instead, I pulled it tighter.

Last night's night mare haunted me a lot

I still remember The way his hands had trembled as he bandaged my arm. The

unspoken words in his eyes when he thought I wasn't looking.

"We need to leave," I whispered.

His eyes flew open, alert. "The banks won't open for two hours."

Of course. Money. The one thing standing between us and survival.

I swallowed hard. "I have 8,000 naira. That's it."

Tahir sat up, wincing at his bruised ribs. "I'll handle it."

"With what? Your designer watch?" I snapped. "They'll track anything you pawn."

Silence stretched between us. For the first time, the great Tahir Nelson had no answer.

AISHA'S POV

The motel room's faucet dripped like a ticking

bomb. Ryder snored on the lumpy mattress, but sleep wouldn't come.

I unfolded the crumpled hospital bill—Mother's surgery: 2.3 million naira. The numbers blurred.

Tahir had promised to pay. Before the betrayal. Before the bullets.

Now? We were back to square one: broke and hunted.

Ryder stirred. "We'll find a way."

How? The question choked me. Outside, a street vendor shouted about "fresh akara!"—the smell reminding me of home. Real home. Before all this.

Before him.

I traced the cracked screen of my dead phone. Was Tahir even alive?

The thought shouldn't have hurt.

TAHIR'S POV

Maya's laughter cut through me. "You've never taken a danfo bus, have you?"

The overcrowded minibus lurched, tossing me against her. She stiffened but didn't pull away.

"First time for everything," I muttered, gripping the seat as hawkers shoved plantains through the window.

This was survival now: no drivers, no credit lines. Just the 500 naira fare Maya had paid for us both.

Her knee brushed mine. "Stop staring. You'll attract attention."

Hard not to stare. Even in yesterday's stained blouse, Maya carried herself like a queen. My queen.

I forced my gaze out the window. Focus. Find Victor. Secure funds. Keep her alive.

But when her head eventually drooped onto my shoulder, I let her stay.

RYDER'S POV (Ground Truths)

Aisha's hands shook as she counted our cash. "Enough for three days. Maybe."

I pocketed the money. "I'll get more."

"How? Selling your organs?" Her attempt at humor fell flat.

The truth was ugly: No rich saviors left. Just us and the streets we'd fought so hard to escape.

I kicked the broken AC unit. "We should've let Tahir rot."

Aisha's silence said everything.

Somewhere out there, Maya was choosing him over full stomachs and safety. Over us.

The fan sputtered, mocking my helplessness.