Amara did not usually talk to strangers.
Yet here she was, seated across from one in the hotel café, her fingers wrapped tightly around a cup of tea she hadn't touched. The man in front of her watched her with calm patience, as if time bent easily around him.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She hesitated.
Names carried weight. Names were dangerous.
"…Amara," she said finally.
The way he repeated it—slow, almost reverent—made her chest tighten.
"Amara," he said. "I'm Darius."
No last name. That should have been her warning.
They spoke of small things at first. The city. The weather. How crowded Abuja had become. But beneath the polite conversation, something heavier stirred—an unspoken awareness, a pull neither of them wanted to name.
Darius felt it too. He had felt it the moment she looked at him like she wasn't impressed by money, power, or the invisible shield he wore everywhere else.
She didn't know who he was.
And for the first time in his life, he didn't want her to.
Across the table, Amara smiled—but inside, fear curled quietly.
Because she already knew exactly who he was.
And getting close to him was the one thing she had promised never to d