After a trail of bodies from Europe to Chicago, the case is over. The dead are buried. The names stopped coming up. There’s no client left.
 
There is only Yaa.
 
She’s not staying ahead of him anymore. She’s closing in. Black feels it in the way the city moves. The streets don’t open for him like they used to. Something is reading him now. Timing him.
 
Yaa knows how he works. Knows he won’t walk away. He isn’t chasing her to stop her.
 
He’s chasing her to understand her.
 
That makes him a problem.
 
What started in Nigeria didn’t end overseas. It didn’t end in Chicago. It tightened. Whatever those men were tied to is still there, buried under money and silence.
 
Black is close enough to see it.
 
Close enough to her.
 
There’s nothing left between them now. No distance. No cover. No more masks.
 
One of them has to be right.
 
And one of them has to be dead.