The night grew heavier. Even the breeze that had carried the smell of roasted corn from the roadside seemed to vanish.
The gang tightened their circle. Bottles clinked in their hands, their shadows stretching long across the dusty ground.
Adesuwa's fingers dug into her purse. She wasn't afraid of spending money if it meant safety, but something in her chest screamed against it. Why should I pay? she thought bitterly. I am Adesuwa Omoregie, not some helpless girl on the street.
But her pride didn't drown out the truth—fear was coiling tighter in her stomach.
Daniel stood firm, hands still in his pockets. He hadn't flinched once, hadn't stepped back. The way his shoulders squared, the calm in his eyes—it was unsettling.
The leader smirked, flashing yellow teeth. "You know, it's funny," he said, circling closer. "A rich woman and her… what? Bodyguard? Boy toy? Or maybe just a hungry rat?"
His men burst into laughter, the sound sharp and ugly.
Adesuwa opened her mouth, ready to spit back fire, but Daniel's voice cut through before she could speak.
"You've wasted enough words," he said, his tone low, measured. "Leave… now."
Silence. The kind that made the skin prickle.
The leader blinked, then scoffed, forcing another laugh to mask the tension. "You think you're in charge here?"
He gestured to his men. One of them stepped forward, bottle raised, his steps loud against the silence.
Adesuwa's breath caught. She wanted to scream at Daniel to move, to do something, but she couldn't. Her voice died in her throat.
And Daniel?
He didn't move an inch. His eyes tracked the man's every step, sharp as a predator watching prey.
For the first time, Adesuwa saw it clearly—the silence around him wasn't weakness. It was control. A terrifying, dangerous control.
The thug raised the bottle higher, ready to swing.
And just before it came down—
Daniel finally shifted.
One step forward.
One hand rising slowly.
The kind of movement that promised the night was about to shatter.