Anshika's pov:

The car moved smoothly down the road, the hum of the engine almost soothing. I sipped the last bit of my coffee, glancing out of the window, letting my mind drift. The streets were busy as usual, people going about their day, unaware of the quiet chaos that was running through my head. My fingers drummed lightly on the armrest, anticipation building with each passing second.

But then, suddenly, everything shifted.

The car jerked to a violent halt, throwing me forward against my seatbelt. The coffee cup slipped from my hand, spilling the dark liquid across the leather seat. My heart skipped a beat, and I shot a sharp look at the driver, my pulse quickening.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the tension that had suddenly filled the car. But the driver's eyes were fixed ahead, wide and alert, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He didn't say a word, and that silence only made my anxiety spike.

I turned my head to look out of the window, trying to understand what had made him stop so abruptly, and my breath hitched. Up ahead, the street was blocked, and chaos had erupted. I could see a black SUV surrounded by a group of armed men — goons, to be precise. They were wearing masks, their faces hidden, but the glint of guns in their hands was unmistakable.

I watched, horrified, as the goons raised their weapons, and a barrage of bullets tore through the air, shattering the quiet morning. My mind barely had time to register the sound of gunfire before reality hit me like a punch to the gut. Whoever was in that SUV was under attack, and judging by the sight of bodies crumpling to the ground, their bodyguards were being taken out, one by one.

A chill ran down my spine, and my hands instinctively clenched around the seatbelt. For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't think. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. This wasn't just some random street fight — this was a planned hit, a brutal ambush.

"Ma'am, please stay in the car," the driver's voice was low and shaky, but I could barely hear him over the sound of my own heartbeat. I knew he was trying to keep me safe, but I couldn't just sit here, hiding, while something this intense was happening right in front of me. I had always been a fighter, and now was no exception.

Ignoring his plea, I unbuckled my seatbelt, my hands moving on autopilot. I pushed open the door, stepping out into the street, and the sound of gunfire hit me full force. The sharp, metallic scent of blood hung in the air, mingling with the acrid smell of burning rubber from the screeching tires. The chaos felt surreal, like something out of a nightmare, but I forced myself to keep moving, to focus.

My heels clicked against the asphalt, the sound eerily calm against the backdrop of violence. I moved closer, squinting to get a clearer view of what was happening. The SUV was riddled with bullet holes, its windows shattered, and smoke was starting to curl up from the engine. My eyes darted around, scanning the scene, and my stomach twisted when I saw the bodies lying on the ground. The men had been dressed in black suits, their guns still clutched in their hands, but they hadn't stood a chance. Whoever had planned this attack had been ruthless and efficient.

But who was in that SUV? Why were they being targeted? The questions swirled in my head, but there was no time to think. I took a step closer, my eyes fixed on the car, trying to catch a glimpse of the person inside. Maybe it was just my curiosity, or maybe it was something else — a need to understand, to piece together this chaotic puzzle that had been thrown in my path.

One of the goons noticed me, his head snapping in my direction, and for a split second, our eyes locked. There was a flash of surprise, and then something darker — a warning. I should have turned back, should have gotten back into the car and driven away, but I didn't. Instead, I took another step forward, daring him to try and stop me.

"Hey!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. It was a reckless move, but I needed to do something. "What the hell is going on here?"

The goon hesitated, momentarily thrown off by my presence, but it wasn't enough to stop the violence. Another shot rang out, and I flinched as the sound echoed through the street, but I didn't back down. Whoever was behind this attack had already claimed lives, and I wasn't going to let them intimidate me. Not now, not ever.

I glanced back at the driver, who was still in the car, his face pale with fear. He motioned for me to get back inside, but I shook my head, my resolve hardening. Something was happening here, and I was going to find out what, even if it meant walking straight into the middle of a warzone.

Adrenaline surged through my veins as I sprinted toward the SUV, my mind racing faster than my feet could carry me. The scene was chaotic, with the sound of gunfire echoing all around me, but I had a singular focus. I needed to know who was inside that car, who was worth this brutal ambush, and what they had to do with all this madness.

As I approached, I could see the silhouette of a figure slumped in the back seat, partially obscured by the shattered glass and smoke. My heart sank. I had never seen anything like this before — the violence, the raw brutality. It was a stark reminder of how unpredictable and dangerous the world could be, especially for someone like me, who was always caught up in the cutthroat fashion industry.

Ignoring the danger, I reached the door of the SUV. My heart pounded in my chest as I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I might find inside. I grabbed the door handle, but it was locked tight. Frustration bubbled up inside me; I couldn't just stand there while someone's life hung in the balance.

Without a second thought, I took a step back, my eyes narrowing as I prepared myself. With all the strength I could muster, I slammed my palm against the window, aiming for the centre, where the glass was already cracked.

The sound of breaking glass filled the air like a gunshot, a sharp crack that cut through the chaos around me. The window shattered into a million sparkling pieces, raining down like confetti, and I didn't hesitate. I reached inside, grasping the edge of the door and yanking it open with all my might.

The door swung wide, and my heart plummeted as I caught sight of the man inside. He was an older gentleman, distinguished in appearance, with silver hair that seemed almost regal against the dark upholstery of the SUV. But the luxury of the moment was shattered by the gruesome reality: he was bleeding heavily, his shirt soaked crimson, and he appeared unconscious.

"Oh no," I gasped, horror flooding through me. I stepped inside the vehicle, my heels crunching against the remnants of the shattered glass, and I knelt beside him. He was still breathing, but his breaths were shallow and ragged. Panic surged within me, but I pushed it aside, forcing myself to think clearly.

"Sir, can you hear me?" I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands as I reached for him. His eyes flickered open for a brief moment, clouded and unfocused, but then they closed again. The world around us was still ablaze with chaos, but all that mattered was the man in front of me.

I could hear the goons shouting at each other, the sound of bullets still echoing nearby, but I focused solely on him. "Help is coming!" I shouted, hoping to rally whatever strength I could muster, both for myself and for him. "Stay with me!"

I felt a rush of desperation as I pulled out my phone, ready to call for help, but then I heard a loud shout from one of the goons. "Get away from the car!"

Instinct kicked in, and I turned to see the goon charging toward us, his gun raised. Panic surged through me again, but I was rooted to the spot, torn between helping the man and saving myself.

I glanced back at the injured man, my heart racing. "I won't leave you!" I yelled, but there was no time to argue. The goon was getting closer, and I needed to act fast.

With one last look at the man, I made a split-second decision. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him toward me, but he was heavy and unresponsive. I needed to get him out of the line of fire.

"Help! Somebody help!" I screamed, the desperation in my voice rising. But in this moment, all I could do was hope that someone would hear me, that somehow I would make it out of this alive.

Before I could react to the threat of the approaching goon, a sharp pain erupted from my shoulder. The world around me faded for a moment as the shock of the gunshot coursed through my body. I stumbled back, gasping for breath, my hand instinctively clutching the wound. Warm blood oozed from the entry point, soaking my blouse, but the adrenaline coursing through me dulled the pain to a distant throb.

"Stay away from him!" I shouted, a surge of defiance rising within me. Ignoring the agony in my shoulder, I squared my stance and focused on the two goons now closing in on the SUV. They had seen their target and were intent on getting to the old man.

I could feel my instincts kicking in. I had spent years honing my athletic skills, training in martial arts and various sports. This wasn't just about the fashion world anymore; this was survival. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and focused on the nearest goon.

He was bulky and overconfident, grinning as he advanced. I feigned fear, taking a step back as if I were daunted. When he lunged toward me, I sidestepped him, pivoting on my feet and using my body weight to deliver a sharp elbow strike to his ribs. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he stumbled back, momentarily stunned.

But there was no time to celebrate. The second goon, faster and more agile, was already on me. He swung his fist, aiming for my face, but I ducked just in time, my instincts guiding me. I could feel the rush of air as his fist barely missed me. I countered quickly, launching a powerful kick aimed at his knee. The move landed squarely, and I heard a satisfying crack as he crumpled to the ground, howling in pain.

Adrenaline surged through me as I turned my attention back to the first goon, who was now regaining his composure. He lunged again, and I ducked under his outstretched arm, twisting around him in a fluid motion. I grabbed him by the collar and used my momentum to throw him into the SUV, where he hit his head against the door frame, momentarily dazed.

"Get out of here!" I shouted at the old man, though I didn't know if he could hear me. I had to protect him at all costs.

The first goon was back on his feet, and I could see fury in his eyes. He rushed at me again, but this time, I was ready. I sidestepped him again and caught him off guard with a swift kick to the side of his head. He crumpled again, but I knew this wasn't over yet.

I turned back to the old man, my heart racing. "You need to move!" I yelled again, urgency lacing my voice. I didn't know how long I could keep this up; my shoulder throbbed with every movement, and I could feel my strength waning.

Suddenly, the second goon staggered to his feet, shaking off the daze. He looked enraged, his eyes narrowing at me. I braced myself for the impending attack, knowing I had to act quickly.

As he charged at me, I ducked again, dodging his fist. In a flash, I spun around, grabbing a piece of broken glass from the shattered window of the SUV. With a quick flick of my wrist, I aimed it at him, brandishing it like a weapon.

"Get back!" I shouted, my voice steady despite the chaos. The goon hesitated, surprise flickering in his eyes. It was enough of a distraction. In a fluid motion, I lunged forward, thrusting the glass towards his side, catching him off-guard and slicing through his shirt.

He howled in pain, stumbling back. In that moment of hesitation, I seized the opportunity and rushed toward the SUV, hoping to drag the old man out. But before I could reach him, the first goon grabbed my arm, yanking me back.

Pain shot through my shoulder again, and I cried out, struggling against his grip. But in my heart, a fire burned; I couldn't let him win. Drawing on every ounce of strength left within me, I twisted free and landed a swift punch to his face.

He staggered, and I saw my chance. I pushed forward, launching myself into the backseat of the SUV, where the old man lay. "Come on! We have to go!" I shouted desperately, my heart racing.

But as I turned to check on him, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder again, and I stumbled back. I needed to finish this once and for all. With renewed determination, I braced myself for the fight ahead. The goons were not going to take me down that easily. I had to protect him, protect myself, and survive this nightmare.

As I took a deep breath, my eyes locked onto the goons, ready for the next round.

I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I steadied my breath, preparing for what was to come. The goons were regrouping, their eyes filled with fury and desperation. They had underestimated me, and now they were about to see what I was made of.

With a fierce determination, I turned my focus back to the old man. He looked pale and disoriented, blood pooling on the seat beneath him. "Sir, I need you to hold on! We're going to get you out of here!" I said, forcing my voice to stay steady despite the chaos around us.

I felt the weight of the broken glass in my hand, a makeshift weapon I was willing to use if necessary. The first goon was regaining his composure, his face twisted with anger. He shouted something to the second goon, and they both charged toward me, their footsteps echoing in the chaos.

"Get back!" I shouted, brandishing the glass threateningly. They hesitated for a split second, enough time for me to assess my options. I couldn't let them get to me or the old man.

Before they could react, I darted out of the SUV, adrenaline propelling me forward. I dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding the goon's outstretched arm. I quickly ducked behind a nearby car, using it as cover while I strategized my next move.

"Think, Anshika, think," I murmured to myself, feeling the throbbing pain in my shoulder but pushing it aside. The world around me was a blur of chaos, gunfire, and shouts, but I needed to stay focused.

I peeked around the car, watching as the goons bickered among themselves, clearly frustrated. This was my chance. I quickly scanned the area, looking for anything I could use to my advantage. That's when I spotted it—a heavy metal rod lying on the ground, likely discarded from some previous altercation.

"Perfect," I thought, quickly grabbing the rod and hefting it into my hands. I felt a surge of confidence, knowing that I could use it to defend myself.

As I stepped out from behind the car, I saw the goons coming closer, scanning the area for me. I raised the metal rod, feeling its weight and solidity. I wouldn't let them intimidate me.

"Hey, you thugs!" I shouted, my voice ringing out loud and clear. Their heads snapped in my direction, surprise flashing in their eyes. I could see their hesitation, their uncertainty about facing me armed with something more than my fists.

"Think you can take me down? Come and try!" I taunted, waving the rod like a sword. The first goon, enraged, rushed at me, but I was ready. I swung the rod with all my might, connecting solidly with his side. He grunted in pain, stumbling back, and I quickly pivoted to face the second goon.

He hesitated, fear flickering across his features. But I couldn't let that stop me. I lunged at him, swinging the rod in an upward arc. The goon barely had time to react before it collided with his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. I stood over him, breathless but victorious.

But there was no time to relish the moment. The first goon was back on his feet, rage consuming him. He lunged at me, and I narrowly dodged his attack, using the momentum to swing the rod again. This time, it caught him square in the stomach, and he doubled over, gasping for air.

I could see the old man watching from the SUV, a mixture of fear and awe in his eyes. I needed to end this before more goons showed up. I could feel my strength waning, but I had to finish this.

"Stay here!" I yelled at the old man, not waiting for a response. I charged at the first goon once more, adrenaline driving me forward. With a fierce shout, I swung the rod down, aiming for his legs. The impact sent him crashing to the ground, immobilised.

I turned back to the SUV, my heart pounding as I rushed to the old man's side. "We have to move! Can you walk?" I asked urgently, my breath coming in short gasps.

He nodded weakly, attempting to shift in his seat. I reached out to help him, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching sirens in the distance. The goons had realised they were losing and were starting to retreat.

"No!" I shouted, my heart sinking. I couldn't let them escape, not after everything that had happened. "You're not getting away!"

Before I could react, the first goon staggered back to his feet, fury etched on his face. He pulled out a weapon, aiming it directly at me. My heart raced as I quickly calculated my options.

But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a blinding light flooded the scene as police cars skidded to a halt nearby. Officers jumped out, guns drawn, shouting for everyone to freeze.

"Drop your weapons! Now!" they commanded, the authoritative tone cutting through the chaos.

In a flash, the goon's bravado faded. He turned and ran, desperate to escape the approaching law enforcement. I stood frozen, my breath coming in rapid bursts, still clutching the metal rod. The other goon had already fled, abandoning the scene in panic.

The police quickly surrounded the area, rushing toward me and the old man. "Are you alright?" an officer shouted, their eyes scanning the scene for any threats.

"I—I think so," I stammered, glancing down at my shoulder, blood still seeping through my blouse. "But he needs medical help!" I gestured to the old man, who was now slumped in his seat, unconscious.

The officer nodded, quickly motioning for the paramedics who were arriving on the scene. They rushed to assist, their focus on the old man as I felt the weight of everything that had just happened crash over me.

In the chaos, I couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability. I had fought bravely, but now I felt exposed, the pain in my shoulder serving as a reminder of how close I had come to losing everything. I would protect those I cared about, but in this world of business and danger, how much longer could I keep fighting?

As I watched the paramedics work, I couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something much darker.