My hands stopped shaking. A strange, cold clarity washed over me. I looked at the man who had just saved my life, and then at the door that was about to splinter open.
I scrambled across the floor, grabbing the heavy, dead weight of the assassin by his boots, dragging him into the deep shadows behind the velvet curtains. My red bridal sari was stained with the assassin’s blood. I rushed back to Arnav, grabbing him under his arms, using every ounce of my strength to haul his heavy, muscular frame back into the wheelchair.
Just as his limp legs settled onto the footrests, the lock gave way with a deafening CRACK.
The door flew open, and Vikram burst into the room, his gun drawn, followed by three heavily armed guards. They flooded the room, flashlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating the chaos.
