Scars

...

She was like a rose.
The man on the ground trembled as he forced himself across the foyer, dragging himself hurriedly with his wounded leg slowing him down. His breath was laboured and heart beat too fast to help his bleeding leg. His head jerked at the sound around him, or rather the lack of as it failed him to alert him about his assaulter. The middle aged man finally reached the stairs, turning his head slightly at the direction he just came from, he made a quick sweep for the woman before trying haul his body up on the first step. A hiss escaped his lips, a flinch accompanied it as his broken finger came into the contact with the hard surface of the wood polished staircase. Tear filled eyes closed for a second before opening with a determination to escape. However, the determination soon turned to a desperation when he glanced at his bleeding leg, broken finger and the bruised up back. Sweat coated his forehead, from his bushy eyebrows up to the receding salt and pepper hair as pain broke him from the inside. The once orthodoxly arrogant male was ready to plead his desperation to this woman. For this desperation was for his life.

Effortlessly beautiful,
The screech of a metal against the marbled floor caught his attention, stilling him just as his heart stilled for a moment before starting to beat faster than ever. A pained whimper left his throat, bubbling a mess of an apology following, though he remained unsure of the act he was apologizing for. He felt her before he saw her. From her black clothes, that would look ordinary on anyone else except her, to the black hooded coat she had adorned, she hardly looked like a murderer. Yet her gaze seemed to be trained on him, keeping track of his every move and breathe as she advanced towards him, dragging one of his chairs with her. No one would suspect her evil intends if they don’t see the pair of silver crafted daggers in her hand. A smile, small but sadistic, curved her pink, plump lips that made his stuttering stop. She was calm as she stopped right in front of him, placing the chair to face him and sat down, her fingers tracing the sharp edge of the daggers that she had. Then, for the first time the man saw the youthful face of his assailant, but his eyes were held by the most striking feature of her face.
Her eyes.
Orbs of molten steel, hard and unforgiving.

But extremely dangerous.
Like a switch snapped, her smile filtered away from her face just as her body tensed. Her right arm angled back for a second, then it came surging forward. A clear arc, swift as a blur, cutting smooth and slick through the air to make a similar cut through his throat. Small streams of blood escaped the cut, trailing down his neck to sweep in the fabric of his shirt. Small gurgling sounds left his lips with splashes of bool as the man slowly felt his grip on the mortal life lose till he finally lost his battle. His eyes remained wide open in the horror that he had felt, while the female leisurely cleaned her dagger on his shirt before sauntering out all the while whistling calmly.

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A/N: Hello dear readers, I bring back our favourite people in a new story. The ones who have been following The Gangster's Girl, I really appreciate your support but this story has the same people though the rest of the story has changed. It has no link with the previous book and I will be deleting the story as it is.
To the new readers, I hope you like the story and show support.
I would be updating regularly, though the updates will be based on how many of you support and comment!

Anyway, Happy Reading!
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Love, Rupanshi!