Ochieng stepped out of the auction house, the cool night air thick with tension.
The city glowed around him, but he wasn't fooled.
They were watching.
Lucien Rykov didn't lose gracefully.
And neither did the shadows.
Valeria walked beside him, her heels clicking against the pavement.
"You shouldn't have done that," she muttered.
Ochieng smirked. "I should've done it sooner."
A low chuckle echoed in the darkness.
Amara leaned against a sleek black Rolls-Royce, arms crossed. "Brave. Stupid. Maybe both."
She pushed off the car, stepping closer.
"What was so important in that file, Ochieng?"
His gaze didn't waver. "Something worth more than a hundred million."
---
A low growl of an engine.
Headlights flared.
Four black SUVs blocked the street.
Doors swung open.
Lucien's men. Armed. Ready.
Valeria reached for her gun.
Ochieng raised a hand. "Not yet."
The streetlights flickered.
A silent signal.
They weren't alone.
From the rooftops, snipers shifted.
In the alley, figures emerged.
Ochieng wasn't the only predator here.
Lucien had brought his hunters.
Ochieng had brought his ghosts.
---
Lucien stepped forward, slow, deliberate.
"You stole from me, Ochieng."
Ochieng smirked. "I outbid you."
Lucien's lips curled. "And now you owe me."
He tossed a card at Ochieng's feet.
Black. Engraved.
An invitation.
To the Midnight Ball.
Amara's eyes widened. "You're insane."
Lucien tilted his head. "Either he comes willingly…"
He snapped his fingers.
Guns cocked.
"…or in a body bag."
Silence.
Then—Ochieng laughed.
Valeria tensed. "Ochieng—"
He bent down, picked up the card, and slipped it into his pocket.
"Tell them I'm coming."
Lucien grinned.
"Good. Let's see if the Lion of Nairobi survives the lions of the underworld."
---