Book 2 in Twilight Love Series.
A slow burn romance, I recommend reading Book 1 first for a deeper understanding of the characters and their journeys.
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After losing her sister years ago under mysterious...
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The quiet evolution of his expression ___________________________________________
With lightning speed, I deflected the weapon from the thug's grasp and delivered a powerful punch to his neck, causing him to stagger backward. Towering over me, he underestimated my resolve, but I relied on cunning rather than brawn to turn the tables in my favor. Eyes locked on my target, I shielded Mayank from danger and seized the knife with a swift motion, my grip firm and unyielding.
As the thugs' attention shifted between us, I saw through their intentions and prepared to strike. With a fierce determination burning within me, I swung the blade towards the first attacker, drawing a crimson line across his nostril. The sight of blood only fueled his pain and fury as he stumbled back, clutching his face in agony.
Without missing a beat, I pivoted towards the second thug, who had momentarily let his guard down. With a steely glint in my eye, I lunged forward and sliced through his jaw with precision, the sound of metal meeting flesh ringing out in the air. The impact was enough to incapacitate him, leaving him writhing in pain on the ground.
In the heat of the moment, I moved with calculated grace and lethal efficiency, each strike a testament to my skill and determination.
As the dust settled and the echoes of the conflict faded into the night, I stood there, breathing heavily, my senses heightened by the chaos that had just unfolded. My instincts had kicked in, but my heart hammered with the weight of the decisions I’d made. I grabbed Mayank's trembling hand, his wide eyes still fixated on the aftermath, and pulled him into motion. "Run," I barked, snapping him out of his trance. His gaze snapped to mine, and after a brief moment of confusion, he nodded, our steps quickening as we fled the scene.
I revved the engine, feeling the burn of adrenaline still coursing through me. The streets blurred past as we sped away, but the tension in the air was thick. Mayank clung to the back of my bike, his grip too tight, his body taut with fear. The weight of what had just happened settled on me with every passing second. I had barely spared a thought for how this might affect him. My plan, the one I thought would get me closer to the organization, had gone up in smoke. I had dragged him into this mess, and for what?
I slowed down and pulled over, the roar of the engine fading into the night. Stepping off the bike, I handed Mayank a bottle of water, my movements slow, as if I could undo the damage with a gesture. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice low, laced with regret. This, what had just transpired, was never supposed to involve him. It wasn’t just reckless, it was thoughtless, selfish even.
Mayank stood still for a beat, his eyes clouded with a storm of emotions, before he finally spoke, his voice more composed but heavy with disbelief. "What just happened, Tara?" His words were sharp, like daggers, and I felt the weight of his concern pressing against me. This was different. This wasn’t the usual sarcastic edge. There was something raw and genuine in his tone, and it struck a chord deep within me.
