THE MAN WHO WOULDN'T DISAPPEAR

💎 CHAPTER TWO — THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T DISAPPEAR

The rain had stopped, but Amara’s problems had not. She hurried home, her slippers slapping against the wet ground as muddy water soaked her feet. The neighborhood generator buzzed in the distance, the usual background noise of their small, crowded street in Kaduna.

All she could think about was the doctor’s voice echoing in her head:

**“He needs treatment immediately… ₦150,000.”**

One hundred and fifty thousand naira. She didn’t even know where to find ten thousand.

Amara pushed open the wooden door to their one-room apartment. Chika lay on the bed, curled up with a thin blanket. His breathing was shallow, his skin pale and dry.

“Amara?” His voice was faint, barely above a whisper.

She forced a smile. “Nna, I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“Cold… and my legs hurt.”

Her heart clenched. She tucked the blanket tighter around him.

“Did you eat the rice I left?” she asked.

He shook his head weakly. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course he wasn’t. Pain took away appetite.

She brushed his forehead. “I’ll fix something warm. You need strength.”

As she moved toward the small stove, her phone buzzed. She expected it to be the landlord again, or the clinic requesting payment.

But the caller ID made her freeze.

**Dante.**

The man whose life she had saved. The man she had run away from.

She stared at the glowing screen, debating. She didn’t need rich men with sharp eyes and deeper secrets. She needed money… but not from strangers.

She ended the call.

Almost immediately, it rang again.

Amara clicked “Decline.”

The third time, she answered out of irritation.

“What do you want?” she whispered angrily.

A deep voice poured through the line like velvet dipped in danger.

“Amara. Meet me tomorrow. I owe you.”

“I told you already, I don’t want compensation.”

“That’s because you don’t know the price of your own life-saving act.”

She frowned. “Look, Dante—”

“Where do you live?” he asked suddenly.

Her heart jumped. “Why?”

“So I can thank you properly.”

“No. I don’t need you showing up here.” She lowered her voice, glancing at Chika. “Please. Just… forget today happened.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’t forget things easily,” he said quietly. “Especially not the woman who risked her life for me.”

His tone was dangerous… but oddly soft.

Amara hung up before he could say anything else. She switched her phone to silent, tossed it on the table, and sighed deeply.

She didn’t have room in her life for rich, mysterious men. Not when her brother was fighting for his life. Not when she was drowning in bills.

All she needed was money—honest money.

### **The Next Morning**

Amara woke before sunrise. Chika was still asleep, but his breathing sounded worse.

She needed work. Anything. Cleaning, serving, sweeping… she didn’t care.

She washed her face with cold water, tied her hair in a scarf, and stepped outside.

Just as she reached the gate, her landlord appeared, arms folded.

“Where is my money?”

She swallowed. “Please, I just need more time—”

“You have until tomorrow morning!” he snapped. “If you don’t pay, I will throw both of you out. I’m not joking.”

Amara lowered her head. “Yes, sir.”

She walked away, her throat tight with frustration. She needed a miracle, but miracles had never favored her.

She reached the junction and waited for a keke. Traffic was unusually heavy. Cars honked, people shouted, and the chaos of morning rush-hour filled the air.

Then she saw it.

A sleek black SUV pulled to a stop right in front of her.

Her heart dropped.

The tinted window slid down slowly… and he was there.

Dante.

Grey eyes locked onto hers as though he’d known exactly where to find her.

He stepped out of the car, tall, confident, wearing another expensive suit that screamed power and danger.

People nearby stared. He looked too wealthy, too foreign to be on this street.

“Good morning, Amara,” he said, voice smooth as silk.

She backed away instinctively. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to thank you,” he replied simply.

“I don’t need thanks.”

“I can see that.” His eyes moved over her worn sandals, her faded handbag, her tired face. Not judging—just… noticing.

It annoyed her.

She crossed her arms. “How did you even find where I stay?”

He raised a brow. “I asked.”

“You—what? Who did you ask?”

He ignored her question. “You refused compensation, so I decided to give you something else.”

She frowned. “What?”

“A job.”

The word hit her like electricity.

“What kind of job?”

“One that pays well,” he said, stepping closer. “Very well.”

Her stomach twisted with suspicion. “I’m not interested in anything… inappropriate.”

Dante’s expression darkened. “I don’t deal in filth.”

His voice was edged with insult—like she’d offended him deeply.

He continued, calmer this time. “I need someone I can trust. Someone with courage. Yesterday, you proved you have both.”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said. “Come with me.”

Amara shook her head. “No. I can’t leave my brother.”

“I know.” He motioned toward his car. “Which is why I had the clinic checked this morning.”

Her eyes widened. “You what?!”

“Your brother needs treatment urgently,” he said. “Let me help.”

Her heart pounded. “Why are you doing this?”

Dante looked at her with unsettling sincerity. “Because you saved my life. And I don’t leave debts unpaid.”

The wind blew gently between them, carrying the scent of rain and dust. For the first time, she noticed something behind his cold exterior—something heavy, controlled, and dangerous.

He wasn’t just rich.

He was powerful.

And powerful men never helped without a reason.

Amara swallowed hard. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Dante stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“A personal assistant. Temporary. But you’ll be paid more than enough to cover your brother’s bills.”

Her breath caught.

A job. High pay. Immediate money.

It sounded too good to be real.

And yet…

She thought of Chika’s pale face. The landlord’s threats. Her empty bank account.

“Will I be safe?” she asked quietly.

Dante’s gaze softened just a little. “With me? Always.”

Her heart fluttered despite herself.

She exhaled shakily. “Okay. I’ll hear the details.”

A small smile touched his lips—dangerous, controlled, and satisfied.

“Good,” he said, opening the car door for her. “Your life is about to change, Amara.”

She hesitated for one last second… Then stepped into the SUV.

Not knowing that this single choice would pull her into a world of secrets, power, and a man who never played fair.