From the corner of the street, Noma watched.

She was 20 years old, slim, with dark curly hair tied into a messy bun, wearing worn jeans and slippers that had clearly survived more battles than they should have. She leaned against a broken wall, chewing groundnuts, her eyes sharp.

Big car, big man, big trouble, she thought.

Then she saw them.

Three men in black hoodies emerged like bad decisions.

“Chairman,” one of them called cheerfully. “You’re lost.”

Biola straightened slowly. “I’m not lost,” he said calmly. “My car is just tired.”

The men laughed.

“Abeg, drop your phone and keys,” another said. “Before your blood joins the gutter.”

Biola raised his hand slightly. “Gentlemen, I believe we can—”

“Stop believing nonsense,” the leader snapped, stepping closer.

That was when Noma picked up a thick wooden stick.

She walked forward casually, like she was going to buy bread.

“Hey!” she shouted.

Everyone turned.

She pointed the stick at the men. “Leave that man alone before I rearrange your faces.”

The men froze.

One whispered, “Noma.”

Another hissed, “That street girl.”

The third swallowed. “The one that bit someone last year.”

Noma smiled sweetly. “I still have teeth.”

The men backed away slowly.

“Another time,” the leader muttered.

Then they disappeared.

Biola stood there stunned. “Did you just save my life?”

Noma shrugged. “Maybe. Depends. Are you annoying?”

He laughed despite himself. “No. I’m grateful. Very grateful.”

She eyed his suit. “You look like money.”

“I am money,” he said before thinking.

She burst out laughing. “See confidence. So what are you doing in my area, Mr. Money?”

“My car betrayed me.”

She tapped the bonnet with her stick. “Even machines get tired of rich people.”

Biola laughed again, harder this time.

“I’m Biola.”

“Or.”

He looked at her properly now—her calm strength, her fearless eyes.

“Can I buy you food?” he asked.

She smirked. “If you can afford it.”

That night, fate quietly smiled.

Because a billionaire had just met the one person money could never buy.

Biola’s driver almost fainted when he saw his boss walking down the street with a girl holding a stick.

“Sir,” the driver whispered urgently, “is this a kidnapping?”

Biola waved him off. “Relax. She saved my life. Also, she might save yours if you talk too much.”

Noma raised her stick. “I don’t charge extra for new victims.”

The driver nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am. Welcome.”

Inside the luxury SUV, Noma sat stiffly, hands on her lap, staring at the leather seats like they might bite her.

“So,” Biola said casually, “you okay?”

She tapped the seat. “This chair is softer than my future.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

She squinted at him. “You’re not planning to sell my kidney, right?”

Biola gasped. “Madam, I already have money. Why would I need yours?”

She nodded. “Good. Because I’m using mine.”

The gate opened slowly.

Noma’s jaw dropped. “Is this one house or a state?”

“One house,” Biola replied. “I just like space.”

She pointed at the chandelier inside. “If I sneeze here, will they find me?”

Biola laughed. “Only if you break something.”

She whispered, “Then I won’t breathe.”

A maid approached. “Welcome, sir.”

Noma froze. “Wait. People greet you inside your own house?”

Biola smiled. “Yes.”

She leaned closer. “If I shout, will the echo answer?”

“Yes.”

She tested it. “Hello?”

The echo answered.

She jumped. “Okay. This house is haunted.”

Later that night, they ate together.

“Why did you help me?” Biola asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t like seeing people suffer, rich or poor.”

He watched her quietly. “You’re calm,” he said. “Strong. Intelligent.”

She frowned. “You sound like you’re about to propose.”

He smiled softly. “Not yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good. I’m still adjusting to chairs.”

As Noma lay on a soft bed for the first time in her life, she whispered, “God, please don’t let this be a dream.”

Biola stood outside her door smiling, because the girl from the street had already walked into his heart without knocking.

Noma woke up screaming.

“Jesus!”

Biola almost broke the door running in. “What ha