His Dangerous Embrace

Savior part 1

Chapter 4

"He's a monster and a savior, all in one."

Esme carefully made her way out of the tent, ensuring that none of the men following her were in sight. Seeing no immediate threat, she seized the opportunity and began running towards the heart of the city, hoping to find police and secure her safety. She stopped at a footpath not far from where she had taken a break earlier, panting heavily with her hands on her waist.

Suddenly, a handkerchief was pressed against her mouth from behind. She struggled frantically, thrashing like a fish out of water.

"Now, how will you escape again, bitch?" a gruff voice taunted. Tears of helplessness filled her eyes as she fought to avoid inhaling the substance, knowing it would render her unconscious and plunge her into a dark abyss.

Esme held her breath, determined to resist. The man grew increasingly irritated by her resilience. She managed to hold her breath for a remarkable twenty seconds, feeling herself slowly slipping from his grasp. Sensing his frustration and struggling to maintain his hold on her, Esme saw an opening. With all her remaining strength, she kicked him hard where the sun doesn't shine. The man released her instantly, doubled over in pain.

Esme took advantage of the moment and bolted, her heart pounding as she sprinted towards safety. Just as she began to feel a glimmer of hope, she heard the shouts of the man who had held her captive. His mates had arrived, and now all of them were following her. Tears streamed down her face as the strength in her body began to wane. Her legs felt heavy, and her breaths came in ragged gasps. She couldn't take it anymore; her body was on the verge of giving up.

Just when Esme felt her strength giving out, she saw a figure standing a few yards ahead, talking on the phone. A flicker of hope ignited within her. She quickly ran towards the individual, whose back was turned to her. His expensive Armani suit gleamed under the moonlight, and his hair was as dark as the night sky above.

Desperation lent her speed as she closed the distance between them. The man turned as if sensing the tension behind him, revealing a face that was both intimidating and composed, his dark eyes reflecting the moonlight. Esme crashed into his chest, the sudden impact enveloping her in his expensive cologne, a scent both foreign and reassuring.

She clung to his suit with trembling hands, the fine fabric a stark contrast to the chaos behind her. Instinctively, she buried her face in his chest, the rapid thudding of her heart synchronizing with the steady rhythm of his. Despite the fear coursing through her veins, his presence exuded a surprising sense of safety and calm.

"Please help me. Please," she begged, her voice barely a whisper against the firmness of his chest. Desperation overtook her as she clung to him, her fingers gripping the expensive fabric of his suit as though it were the only thing keeping her tethered to life. In that moment, all she wanted was to save herself, willing to place her faith in a stranger who might be her last hope.

Kai looked down at the girl, her brown, tear-filled eyes brimming with desperate hope, her lips trembling as she pleaded with him like he was her last prayer. He studied her for a moment, disbelief flickering in his eyes. This girl—innocent and vulnerable—was placing her fate in the hands of a man like him, someone who was more accustomed to seeing people beg for their lives, or worse, plead for death to escape the torment he could inflict.

He couldn't help but marvel at the irony. People feared him, prayed to be spared from his wrath, yet here she was, asking him for protection. He couldn't decide if she was incredibly naive or dangerously intelligent, a pawn sent by one of his enemies. And yet, as she clung to him, shaking and desperate, there was a part of him—long buried and nearly forgotten—that stirred at the sight of her vulnerability.

Her grip tightened on his suit, her small frame trembling against him, and Kai found himself wavering. He was a man forged in the fires of cruelty, his hands stained with blood, yet here she was, seeking safety in his arms, oblivious or uncaring of the darkness that surrounded him.

For a brief moment, Kai hesitated. Was she truly this naive, or was this some elaborate ruse? Either way, she had done the unthinkable—trespassed into the life of a man like him and awakened something he thought he had long ago extinguished. Compassion.

But his instincts took over, and Kai's arms slowly encircled her, a protective barrier against the world that sought to harm her. He didn't know if he was making a mistake, but the fear in her eyes compelled him to act.

"Stay close," he murmured, his voice a low, steady command that masked the turmoil within him. In that moment, he became her shield, her unlikely savior, while inwardly grappling with the unfamiliar sensation of being someone's last hope.

Esme clung to Kai as if her very life depended on it. His warmth was the only thing grounding her, offering a refuge from the cold, treacherous world that had done nothing but betray her. In his embrace, she felt a fleeting sense of escape, a momentary reprieve from the relentless fear that had consumed her.

But the sound of approaching footsteps shattered that fragile peace. The goons who had been chasing her were closing in. Her body tensed, and the terror returned in full force, shaking her to the core.

"T-They're c-coming," she stammered, her voice quivering with fear. Kai wasn't a fool—he could see that her reaction was genuine, not some act. His sharp gaze lifted from her trembling form to the four men approaching with predatory intent.

"That girl belongs to us. Hand her over, and we promise no harm," one of them sneered, his eyes filled with malevolence as they fixed on Esme.

Esme couldn't bring herself to look back at them, paralyzed by fear. She could barely breathe, let alone move. The thought of falling back into their clutches made her heart race uncontrollably. "N-n-no, please," she whispered, her voice breaking as she looked up at Kai, desperate for his protection.

Kai's expression remained unreadable, a stark contrast to the panic in her eyes. He didn't flinch or show any sign of fear. Instead, he stared at the men with a cold, calculating gaze, as if weighing their words and finding them insignificant.

The goons mistook his silence for hesitation, oblivious to the truth simmering beneath the surface. There was an air of control in the way Kai stood, as though the situation had already been resolved in his mind. If only they could sense it—he wasn't intimidated; he was merely waiting, like a predator poised to strike at the perfect moment.

Without glancing down at her, Kai spoke, his voice low and resolute. "She doesn't belong to anyone. Not anymore."

The statement made the leader of the goons bristle with anger. He attempted to mask it with one last attempt at negotiation. "Listen carefully, I don't want to waste my energy killing you. So it would be better if you hand her over."

Kai's expression remained unreadable, his gaze cold. "Why should I give her to you?"

"Because she's our property," the man sneered, as if it were an indisputable fact.

Kai clicked his tongue, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Tsk, tsk, you must have heard wrong. A woman is not property," he replied, his eyes drifting to the weapons they carried—a knife, a pistol, and something else barely concealed under their jackets.

His words, though few, carried a weight that sent a shiver down Esme's spine.

His calm demeanor was not a sign of weakness but a harbinger of the storm he was about to unleash.

Just then, one of the men raised his gun and fired. The crack of the shot echoed through the night, but Kai was faster. In a split second, he shoved Esme out of the line of fire, his body moving with fluid precision as he twisted to avoid the bullet himself.

The shot barely missed them, whizzing past with a deadly hiss. Esme stumbled and fell to the ground, her heart pounding in her ears, but she was unhurt. Kai, now crouched low beside her, glared at the men, his eyes darkening with a fury that sent a chill down their spines.

They had made a fatal mistake.

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