The villainess's second chance to love

Chapter 9: The Chase

The night air felt colder as the wind whipped against their faces. The moment their feet hit the rooftop, Celia's pulse raced—not from the jump itself, but from the feeling of being hunted. The pursuit had begun.

Behind them, the sound of shouting echoed through the narrow alleyways, and Celia didn't need to look back to know the Hawkes' men were close. Adrian led the way, his movements sure and calculated as he darted across the rooftops, his silhouette barely visible in the dark. Celia kept pace, her heart thudding in her chest as she glanced at Cassandra, who struggled to keep up, but her determination kept her moving.

"Stay close!" Celia called out, her voice cutting through the tense silence. "We can't afford to fall behind."

Cassandra, breathing heavily, nodded. "I—I'm trying."

Behind them, a loud crash shattered the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps pounding over the roof tiles. The men chasing them were gaining ground.

Adrian's voice rang out, sharp and focused. "This way!"

He veered left, running along the edge of the building before leaping onto the next rooftop. Celia followed, gripping the edge of the ledge with one hand as she propelled herself forward, her legs straining with the effort. Cassandra hesitated, fear flashing across her face as she glanced at the gap between the buildings.

"You have to jump," Celia urged, her voice steady despite the urgency in her tone. "It's the only way."

Cassandra bit her lip, her hands shaking, but after a moment's pause, she nodded. Without a word, she leaped, her body sailing through the air. She landed awkwardly but managed to stay on her feet, her breath coming in quick gasps.

"Good," Celia said, offering a quick nod before they continued their run. But the sound of their pursuers grew louder, more persistent. They weren't alone on this rooftop anymore.

The thudding of boots grew closer, and Celia risked a glance behind them. There were at least three men now, all dressed in dark clothing, their faces shadowed but determined. They had closed the distance too quickly, and now they were playing catch-up.

Adrian swore under his breath. "We need to split up."

"Not an option," Celia snapped, her voice hard. "We need to stick together. If we don't, they'll pick us off one by one."

"I'm not going to let them catch us," Adrian muttered, eyes flashing. "Get to the next building, now!"

The next rooftop was only a few steps away, but the men were relentless, closing in with every passing second. Celia surged forward, adrenaline driving her. Cassandra stumbled behind, barely keeping pace as the gap between them and their pursuers continued to shrink.

The sounds of pursuit echoed louder now—shouting, footfalls, the whirring of something metallic—a weapon being drawn. Celia's heart skipped. They were getting dangerously close.

"Jump again!" Adrian ordered.

They had reached the edge of the rooftop, and Celia didn't hesitate. Without looking back, she vaulted over the gap, landing smoothly on the next building's edge. Cassandra followed, barely managing to get her footing as she stumbled to a stop.

Before Celia could even catch her breath, the men reached the edge. A man with a broad chest and a scar running down his cheek drew a blade, his eyes narrowing with malicious intent.

"We're not letting you go this time," he snarled, his voice low and menacing.

Adrian stepped in front of Celia and Cassandra, his eyes cold and calculating. "If you think you can stop us, you're mistaken."

Celia took a step forward, ready to act, but Adrian raised his hand to stop her. His gaze never left the men. "You don't want to do this."

"Too late for threats," the scarred man growled, lunging toward Adrian with the speed of a seasoned fighter.

But Adrian was faster.

With a swift motion, he drew his own blade, parrying the attack with effortless skill. The clash of steel rang through the night air, a brutal reminder of just how dangerous this chase had become. The two men were locked in a deadly dance, blades flashing in the dim light as they traded strikes, neither giving an inch.

Celia's eyes flickered to Cassandra, who was frozen with fear. "Stay back," she ordered quietly, not wanting her to get caught in the crossfire.

The tension in the air was palpable, and Celia's every instinct screamed at her to act. But they couldn't afford a fight here—not like this.

Suddenly, the scarred man pulled back, eyes narrowing as he scanned the surroundings. "There's no point in this. You're trapped."

Celia's heart skipped. A trap? She glanced around—there were more footsteps now, more figures moving in the shadows.

"Adrian!" she shouted, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "We need to go—now!"

Adrian's gaze flicked over to her, eyes cold and calculating. "Agreed. We don't have time for this."

He quickly disengaged from the fight, knocking the scarred man back with a brutal strike that sent him stumbling. Before the men could react, Adrian grabbed Celia's arm, yanking her away toward a narrow alley that led deeper into the city.

"Come on!" he barked, his voice low but urgent.

Celia didn't need any further encouragement. She grabbed Cassandra's hand, pulling her along as they sprinted down the alley, the sounds of their pursuers growing fainter but still echoing through the dark streets.

They ran for what felt like an eternity, their breaths ragged as they navigated the winding alleys of the city. The night seemed endless, and the danger lurking behind them felt ever-present.

Finally, they slowed to a stop, taking refuge in a small courtyard. Adrian pressed his back against the stone wall, his breathing steady but strained.

"We can't keep running like this," he said, eyes narrowed. "They'll catch up eventually."

Celia's mind raced. "We need to regroup. We need a plan."

But even as she spoke, she couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was still to come. The Hawkes weren't just after Cassandra. They were after something much bigger. And now, Celia was in the center of it all.

The chase wasn't over.