THE DEVIL'S CHASE (PART 2)

IRA'S POV

Ira's fingers curled so tightly around her phone that her knuckles turned white.

"You think you can run, little heiress? Let's see how far you get."

Her blood turned to ice.

No name. No number. Just a message sent to crush the illusion of safety she had clung to for the past four years.

The city lights outside the cab blurred as fear gripped her chest.

How? How did they find me?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to think logically.

Maybe it was a bluff. Maybe someone from her past had guessed she was alive and was trying to rattle her.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

Someone was coming for her.

She quickly turned off her phone, her mind racing. She needed to disappear. Again.

The cab suddenly veered left, taking a turn she didn't recognize.

Ira straightened. "Where are we going?"

The driver didn't respond.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. "I said-where the hell are we going?"

The driver exhaled, as if already tired of this conversation. "Miss, I got a call. Someone paid me to take you somewhere else."

No.

Her stomach twisted violently. This wasn't random. This was planned.

"Stop the car," she ordered, her voice sharp despite the terror gnawing at her insides.

The driver didn't even flinch.

She reached for the door handle-locked.

Her pulse skyrocketed. "Unlock the doors!"

The driver ignored her.

Ira's breathing turned shallow. She needed to get out.

She frantically searched the backseat for something-anything-to use as a weapon.

And then she saw it.

The glass window.

Before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed her duffel bag and slammed it against the window with full force. The glass cracked, but it wasn't enough.

The driver cursed. "What the hell-?"

Ira kicked the window with all her strength. Once. Twice.

CRASH!

Shattered glass rained over her as the wind rushed in.

Ignoring the sting of broken shards against her arms, she lunged out of the window.

Pain shot through her knees as she hit the pavement, but she barely had time to register it before a new horror seized her.

A black SUV blocked the road ahead.

Ira's heart nearly stopped.

The driver inside didn't move. But she wasn't stupid. They were waiting for her.

She spun around-and that's when she saw them.

Four men. Dressed in black. Closing in fast.

She had no time to think.

She ran.

Her breath came out in ragged gasps as she sprinted down a narrow alley, her bag heavy against her shoulder.

Behind her, footsteps thundered.

Too close.

Her lungs screamed for air, but she didn't slow down. She couldn't.

She turned sharply into another alleyway, her body slamming into a metal trash bin. The impact sent her tumbling, but she forced herself up and kept running.

A fence loomed ahead.

No way out.

"No, no, no-"

Her pulse was deafening in her ears. She spun around, searching desperately for another escape-

And froze.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out of the shadows, his presence sucking the air from her lungs.

Her world tilted.

Riaan Malhotra.

The Devil himself.

Ira's knees nearly buckled.

The dim streetlight illuminated the sharp, chiseled lines of his face. His black suit hugged his powerful frame, and his cold, unblinking gaze was locked onto her like a predator watching his prey.

A slow, cruel smirk curved his lips.

"Found you."

The cab swerved onto the empty road, its tires screeching against the wet pavement. Ira's heart pounded in her chest, her breath ragged as she turned back to look through the rear windshield. The mansion loomed in the distance, its golden lights cutting through the darkness like a predator watching its prey escape.

And there he was.

Riaan Malhotra stood at the gates, his tall frame drenched under the dim streetlights. His suit was disheveled, his jaw clenched, and his stormy eyes locked onto hers. Even from a distance, his gaze burned with a silent promise-this wasn't over.

Ira curled her fingers into fists, forcing herself to look away. She had done it. She had escaped.

But as the cab sped further into the city, her relief was short-lived. Because men like Riaan Malhotra didn't let go.

Back at the mansion, Riaan exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he pulled out his phone.

"Track her down."

His voice was dangerously calm, but the power behind it sent a shiver down the spine of the man on the other end of the call.

"Run all you want, little rebel," Riaan muttered as he watched the taxi disappear into the distance. "I'll find you."

Back at the RATHORE mansion, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

Virendra Rathore stood in the middle of Ira's bedroom, his hands clenched into fists. His usually composed expression had cracked, replaced by something dark and unreadable.

"She couldn't have gone far," Vikram Mehta hissed, his anger barely contained. His fingers tapped impatiently against the edge of her vanity table. The bride had run. His bride had run.

"Find her," Virendra ordered, his voice low and sharp like a blade. "And bring her back. No matter what it takes."

His men scattered immediately.

Vikram stayed behind, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk as he traced the delicate silver bracelet Ira had left behind. She thought she could escape him?

Foolish girl.

THANK YOU FOR READING😊

And please don't think twice to point out my mistakes...this is the first time I am writing something

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