Page 50 of Celestial Combat

Anticipated.

Then I felt it.

The shift in the air.

The weight of him behind me.

A slow, controlled breath. I let my lashes lower as if I were simply caught up in the music, my body moving subtly with the beat. Every nerve in me screamed, but I shut it down, forced my shoulders to relax.

Then, his voice – low, casual.

“Never seen you here before.”

A chill skated down my spine.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to catch him in my peripheral vision. My pulse pounded against my throat, but I forced a slow smirk, meeting his gaze head-on.

“I could say the same about you.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m always here.”

I let my eyes roam over him now, not too fast, not too slow. Like I was considering him. Like I didn’t already know exactly who he was.

“Guess I just never noticed.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smirk but didn’t.

“You waiting for someone?” He asked, his tone shifting, sharpening slightly.

I tilted my head, let my fingers skim the rim of my glass. “Not anymore.”

Silence.

Then, just like I planned…

“You wanna get out of here?” I asked, letting the words roll out smooth and effortless.

I saw the way his stance changed. The interest. The flicker of something darker in his expression.

Hiroshi Taira thought he was hunting me.

He had no idea he was about to become my victim.

The cold night air hit my skin the second we stepped through the club’s back door, the heavy metal slamming shut behind us. The alley was dimly lit, a single flickering bulb casting long, eerie shadows over the damp concrete. Trash bags were piled up along the walls, their sharp, rotting scent mixing with the lingering smell of fried oilfrom the kitchen’s back entrance. A rat scurried past the dumpster, disappearing into the darkness.

Hiroshi stretched his neck, rolling his shoulders as he turned his head toward me. “My car’s parked around the corner,” he said, nodding toward the street. His voice was smooth, calm. Like he had done this before. Like he thought he was in control.

I smiled slightly, the kind that could be mistaken for anticipation. Excitement. I watched him as he turned.

Then I moved.

My fingers closed around cold steel. The crowbar was exactly where I’d left it, half-hidden behind a stack of wooden crates. Without hesitation, I swung it, hard.

Crack.

The metal connected with his ribs.

Hiroshi let out a sharp grunt, stumbling sideways. “Son of– ”

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