Daniel's eyes narrowed as the men drew closer. Their voices carried arrogance, their footsteps heavy with trouble.
Adesuwa straightened her back, her chin lifted high, but her hand still gripped his arm tightly. Pride told her to let go, but instinct refused. Something about him—this so-called beggar—made her feel oddly protected.
The leader smirked, pointing at Daniel. "Look at him. Ragged shirt, torn shoes. And he wants to act like a hero?"
Another laughed. "Beggar-boy thinks he's Superman."
Their words were sharp, but Daniel's silence cut sharper. He didn't flinch, didn't look away. His calmness was too steady, too controlled, and that unsettled them more than any insult could.
Adesuwa's eyes flickered to his face. There was no fear in him. No nervous shuffling. Instead, there was a quiet strength, like a man who knew exactly what he was capable of but didn't need to prove it.
The men circled closer, the air tightening. The leader licked his lips, his eyes fixed greedily on Adesuwa's jewelry. "Pretty necklace. It'll look better on my girl."
Adesuwa's stomach turned. She opened her mouth to snap back, but Daniel's voice cut through the night first.
"Walk away," he said softly. Almost too softly.
The leader froze for half a second before laughing loudly, trying to cover the chill that ran down his spine. "Or what? You'll fight us with your empty pockets?"
Daniel finally lifted his head fully, and for the first time, Adesuwa saw it—the flash in his eyes. A cold, calculating fire that didn't belong to a man who begged on the streets.
Her heart skipped. Who exactly is this man?
The gang laughed again, but the sound was thinner now, less certain. Even they could sense it. Something wasn't right about him.
The night held its breath.
And in that heavy silence, Adesuwa realized she was standing beside a stranger whose secrets were far bigger than his rags.