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LOVE AND BULLET
PART 1
The air in Lagos was thick with the smell of roasted plantain, diesel fumes, and something else—danger.
Detective Adaobi "Ava" Nwachukwu adjusted the tight red dress clinging to her curves, her high heels clicking against the cracked pavement as she walked toward the most notorious nightclub in the city—"The Viper’s Nest."
This wasn’t her.
Ava was used to bulletproof vests, not sequins. She was trained to chase criminals through the slums of Ajegunle, not sway her hips to Afrobeats in a room full of drug dealers and killers. But tonight, she wasn’t Ava the detective.
Tonight, she was "Lola Adebayo"—a runaway Lagos socialite with a fake criminal record, a sharp tongue, and a body men would kill for.
Her mission?
Get close to "The Lion."
Obinna "The Lion" Eze.
The most feared drug lord in Nigeria. The man who controlled the underworld from Lagos to Port Harcourt. The ghost the NDLEA had been hunting for years.
The club’s bouncers—two massive men with scars and cold eyes—eyed her as she approached. One of them licked his lips. The other gripped her arm a little too tight.
"Who sent you?" he growled in Pidgin.
Ava smirked, slipping into her role like a second skin. "Tell Obinna that Lola is here. And that he’s been ignoring my calls."
The bouncers exchanged glances. Then, with a sharp nod, they let her pass.
Inside, the club was a different world. The bass of Burna Boy’s latest hit vibrated through her bones. Smoke curled in the air, mixing with the scent of expensive whiskey and sweat. Men in designer agbadas and gold chains lounged on plush couches, their eyes tracking her like she was fresh meat.
But Ava didn’t look at them.
Her gaze locked onto him.
At the very back of the club, surrounded by armed men and beautiful women, sat Obinna Eze.
Tall. Dark. Impossibly handsome. Dressed in an all-black agbada that screamed power. A gold Rolex glinted on his wrist. A cigar dangled between his fingers.
And his eyes—God, his eyes—were watching her like she was the only person in the room.
Ava’s heart pounded, but she didn’t falter. She sauntered toward him, hips swaying, lips curved in a confident smirk.
One of his bodyguards stepped forward, blocking her path.
Obinna lifted a single finger.
The guard moved.
Silence fell over his table as Ava stopped in front of him.
"Obinna," she purred.
He took a slow drag of his cigar, his gaze traveling down her body and back up. "Lola," he finally said, his voice deep, smooth, and laced with danger. "I’ve been hearing stories about you."
"Good ones, I hope."
"Depends." He leaned forward, his cologne—something expensive, something foreign—wrapping around her. "You’re either the best thing that’s walked into my club… or the worst."
Ava held his stare, her pulse racing. This was the game. One wrong word, one wrong move, and she’d disappear before sunrise.
But then Obinna did something unexpected.
He smiled.
And in that moment, Ava realized something terrifying—
She wasn’t scared of him.
She was scared of herself.
Because the way her body reacted to him?
That was the real danger.
And that… that could get her killed.
TO BE CONTINUED…

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LOVE AND BULLET
PART 2
The music pulsed like a heartbeat—loud, relentless, alive.
Ava didn’t blink as Obinna’s dark eyes studied her, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass. The cigar smoke curled between them like a silent challenge.
"Sit," he finally said, nodding to the empty space beside him.
Not an invitation.
A command.
Ava forced herself to move slowly, her hips swaying just enough to sell the act. Lola wouldn’t be nervous. Lola would own this moment. She sank onto the plush couch, the leather cool against her bare thighs.
Obinna didn’t touch her. Didn’t lean closer.
He just watched.
"You have five minutes," he said, his voice low. "Tell me why I shouldn’t throw you out."
Ava’s pulse spiked, but she laughed—a rich, throaty sound she’d practiced in the mirror for weeks. "Five minutes? Na wa o! You must think too much of yourself."
A muscle in Obinna’s jaw twitched.
Silence.
Then—
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
"You’ve got mouth," he murmured. "I like that."
One of his bodyguards shifted, his hand resting on the gun tucked into his waistband. Ava didn’t miss it. She also didn’t miss the way Obinna flicked his fingers—stand down.
"So, Lola," Obinna continued, swirling his whiskey. "Who sent you? The cops? My enemies? Or are you just another gold digger?"
Ava leaned forward, letting her dress dip just enough to tease. "Maybe I just wanted to meet the famous Lion."
His eyes dropped to her lips. "And now that you have?"
"I’m… impressed."
Obinna chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "You’re lying."
Ava’s stomach tightened. ****.
Before she could respond, the club’s doors burst open.
Chaos.
Shouting. Glass shattering.
Ava spun around just in time to see three armed men storm in—rival gang.
Gunshots exploded.
Screams tore through the air as people dropped to the floor.
Obinna didn’t flinch.
He simply reached under the table and pulled out a pistol, his movements calm, practiced.
"Stay down," he ordered Ava, his voice ice-cold.
But Ava wasn’t some damsel.
As the first bullet whizzed past her ear, she ducked, rolled, and—
BANG.
One of the attackers dropped.
Obinna’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide.
Because Lola Adebayo wasn’t supposed to know how to shoot.
And definitely not like a trained professional.
Ava’s blood ran cold.
She’d just blown her cover.
TO BE CONTINUED...

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