Fight...

As Elara stepped into the hotel, a hush fell over the room. The dimly lit bar area, buzzing with murmured conversations, suddenly turned its attention to the woman who had just entered. The soft click of her heels echoed through the space, her coat draping elegantly around her shoulders. Eyes followed her, admiration and curiosity mixing in their gazes. But Elara wasn’t here to impress; she had one target—Sandy.

Sitting in a secluded booth at the back, the town’s most wanted criminal, Sandy, leaned lazily against the plush seat, a smirk playing on his lips. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto her the moment she walked in. The interest in his expression was unmistakable.

“Well, well,” he drawled, swirling the drink in his glass. “What brings such a beauty to my humble den?”

Elara approached, keeping her expression cool, calculated. “I was looking for you,” she said smoothly, sliding into the seat opposite him.

Sandy chuckled, his eyes roaming over her shamelessly. “Lucky me.” He leaned in, his fingers brushing over the back of her hand. “If you wanted me, sweetheart, you could’ve just called.”

Elara resisted the urge to recoil. Instead, she forced a flirtatious smile, playing along. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Sandy grinned, pleased by her response. He reached for her waist, pulling her closer with an unsettling sense of ownership. His touch was bold, invasive. His fingers trailed lower, grazing her hip, then moving up toward her chest. His breath was warm against her neck as he whispered, “I like a woman who plays hard to get.”

Elara’s jaw tightened as she felt his fingers press against her. He was getting bolder, his lips dangerously close to hers. The scent of alcohol on his breath was suffocating. Before he could lean in for a kiss, she slammed a hand against his chest, creating distance.

Sandy only smirked. “Feisty, aren’t you?” He grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly. “Come on, baby. Don’t pretend you don’t want this.”

Her patience snapped. Without hesitation, she grabbed the nearest bottle from the table and smashed it over his head. The glass shattered, and blood immediately trickled down Sandy’s forehead. He let out a guttural growl, staggering backward. The entire bar froze for a moment before chaos erupted.

His men, loyal and enraged, surged forward. Elara was ready. She dodged the first attack, twisting the assailant’s arm behind his back before slamming him into the table. Another lunged at her, but she spun, delivering a sharp kick to his ribs. The crack of impact echoed in the room.

Fists flew, bodies crashed against furniture, and shouts filled the air. Elara moved like a warrior, her strikes precise, her agility unmatched. Even as multiple men tried to take her down, she fought back with unwavering strength, using anything within reach—glasses, chairs, even a pool cue—to even the odds.

Meanwhile, Sophia, waiting outside, received the distress signal from their informant inside. She immediately burst into action, storming into the hotel with their backup. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, locking onto the sight of Elara standing amidst fallen bodies, still battling against a few of Sandy’s men.

“Elara!” Sophia shouted, signaling their men to assist. Within moments, reinforcements tackled the remaining goons, subduing them swiftly.

Sandy, still groggy from the blow to his head, attempted to escape, but Elara wasn’t letting him go. She grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back. “You don’t get to run,” she hissed before delivering a brutal punch that sent him sprawling.

With their target finally restrained, Sophia approached, shaking her head in exasperation. “You just had to go in alone, didn’t you?”

Elara smirked, wiping a streak of blood from her cheek. “Would you expect anything less?”

Sophia sighed but couldn’t hide her admiration. “Next time, let’s try a plan that doesn’t involve you smashing bottles over criminals’ heads.”

Elara chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that?”

........