68."Can You Dodge Bullets?"

[3RD PERSON POV]

[ITALY, ROME]

As evening draped itself over Rome like a golden veil, the ancient city exuded a quiet elegance, its cobblestone streets glowing softly beneath the retreating sunlight. Shadows stretched lazily across the piazzas, where the low hum of conversations mingled with the distant clatter of dishes from bustling trattorias. The warm scent of espresso wafted through the air, carried on a gentle breeze that danced around the stone facades, whispering through narrow alleyways. Street musicians filled the atmosphere with melodies, their guitars strumming heartfelt tunes that echoed between the rich history and the encroaching twilight. Rome, timeless and eternal, seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the tranquil embrace of the evening's fading light.

In front of a small flower shop, a beautiful woman stood, wearing a sleeveless floral midi dress that hugged her figure gracefully. The fitted bodice with its square neckline complemented the full, gathered skirt, which swayed gently in the evening breeze. The vibrant floral pattern, adorned with large, colorful blooms against a rich black background, reflected the life and vibrancy of the city around her. Her name was Nawaz Mistry, an elite member of BLACK LOTUS, who had cleverly disguised herself as a florist in the heart of Rome, blending into the city's charm.

As her last customer departed with a bouquet of bright gerbera daisies, Nawaz glanced up at the sky, now ablaze with hues of orange and gold. The beauty of the moment momentarily captured her. She looked at her watch, the hands indicating it was already 7 PM. With a sigh, she began to close the shop, meticulously arranging the remaining flowers, ensuring none would wilt unnoticed.

After a while, she locked the shop's door behind her, the familiar jingle of the bell signaling the end of the day. She walked away from the flower shop, her heels clicking softly on the cobblestones, feeling the pleasant warmth of the evening on her skin. As she strolled, she could hear laughter and music from nearby cafes, a reminder of the life pulsing around her.

Arriving at her apartment building, she paused for a moment, taking in the intricate architecture that surrounded her. The entrance was framed by climbing vines and blooming jasmine, exuding a fragrant invitation. Nawaz pushed open the door and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of home—a blend of lavender and fresh linen.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment, each step bringing her closer to the sanctuary she had created within these walls. As she entered, she was greeted by the soft glow of warm lighting that filled the space, illuminating the eclectic mix of decor—a fusion of modern design and vintage finds, each piece telling a story.

Nawaz took a deep breath, letting the calm of her home wash over her. She set her bag down, removed her shoes, and moved to the small kitchen, where she prepared herself a cup of chamomile tea. As the kettle began to whistle, she glanced out the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the rooftops of Rome.

Finishing her tea, Nawaz walked to the kitchen, placing the cup in the sink with a soft clink. The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant hum of the city beyond her window. She exhaled softly, savoring the calm of the evening as she moved toward her bedroom. As Nawaz come inside she started to undress, slipping out of her clothes. Her figure, perfectly toned, moved with a natural grace.

Opening the bathroom door, she stepped inside and ran her hand over the warm bathwater, testing its temperature before sinking into the tub. The water embraced her, soothing the tension in her muscles. She let her head rest against the cool porcelain edge, her eyes closing as the steam gently filled the room. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus from the bath salts mixed with the warm air, offering a moment of relaxation.

Time passed slowly, and Nawaz let herself drift in the stillness, her thoughts wandering aimlessly. She rarely allowed herself these small moments of peace, where the world outside didn't demand her immediate attention. But tonight, in this fleeting stillness, she felt the weight of the day slowly dissolve in the warm water.

After a while, the water began to cool, and she rose from the tub, reaching for the towel hanging nearby. She dried herself with deliberate care, patting down her skin before wrapping the towel around her body. Her damp hair clung to her back as she padded softly across the tiled floor and into her bedroom.

She dressed in a simple pair of nightwear—a loose, comfortable shirt and shorts—perfect for an evening in. Returning to the kitchen, she began preparing dinner. The gentle sound of vegetables being chopped filled the room as she focused on cooking. Her face remained calm, her actions precise, as she moved through the familiar motions.

Just as she was stirring the pot, her phone, resting on the living room table, buzzed with the sound of an incoming notification. Her head turned slightly, glancing at the clock—it was 8:15 PM. The timing made her pause. Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, she walked into the living room, her bare feet making no sound against the cool floor.

Picking up her phone, she tapped the screen, and the familiar image of the Black Lotus logo appeared—a sleek, black flower symbol that dominated the screen, accompanied by an address and a time. A small smile curved at the corners of her lips as she read the notification, the message clear and direct. Nawaz held the phone to her chest, her fingers tracing the edge of the device as she lay back on the sofa, her body sinking into the cushions. There was a warmth in her expression now, something tender. She closed her eyes, still hugging her phone to her chest, a rare moment of joy lighting up her features.

She held the phone for a moment before unlocking it again and this time her lock screen came into view. It was an image of her and Krishna, a rare photograph that held a deeper meaning for her. In the picture, she was laughing, her arms wrapped tightly around Krishna from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder as he grinned up at her. His hands were supporting her legs, carrying her with ease. Their smiles were bright, unguarded—capturing a moment of simple joy. They had been in a carefree world of their own, and in that photograph, it showed. Her smile widened, and she traced the outline of Krishna's face on the screen with her thumb. It was one of the few times she allowed herself to dwell on such memories—memories of Krishna and their time together. She hugged the phone close to her chest for a second, her eyes drifting shut as she let herself bask in the feeling the image brought her.

Nawaz laying on the sofa, gazing at the image for a moment longer before setting her phone aside. The evening continued around her, but for now, she allowed herself a brief moment of peace.

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[UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON]

Evening descended gently over London, casting a pale, silvery glow that softened the city's usual bustle. The streets were alive, yet not hurried, as if London itself breathed in time with the steady rhythm of its countless footsteps. Double-decker buses rolled down familiar routes, their red silhouettes bold against the graying skyline. The lights of old buildings flickered on, one by one, like lanterns awakening at dusk, casting a warm amber hue that softened their historic facades.

Along the Thames, the river flowed in serene counterpoint to the city's hum, reflecting the sky in fractured silver and charcoal, as if a painter had left soft brushstrokes across the water's surface. The air was brisk and laced with the lingering scent of recent rain, mingling with hints of fresh bread wafting from nearby bakeries. The damp pavement glistened under the streetlights, capturing the blurred reflections of passerby and storefronts in fleeting impressions that vanished as quickly as they appeared.

In the quieter alleys, the murmurs of laughter and low conversations seeped from the doorways of London's cozy pubs, each one a haven of warmth tucked away from the city's restless pulse. Inside, patrons nursed pints or tea, faces flushed from laughter or deep conversation, their voices rising and falling like soft waves.

Iconic black taxis drifted through the streets, their headlights tracing lines of light across rain-speckled windows, slicing through the calm of the encroaching night. They moved with purpose, weaving between cyclists and pedestrians, the drivers' faces hidden in shadow as they navigated the city's intricate web of roads. Here and there, umbrellas dotted the streets, some forgotten and leaning against iron railings, others carried briskly by late workers and visitors drawn to the city's twilight magic.

Inside the vibrant heart of nightclub LUX, the low hum of bass reverberated through the walls, and lights flickered in rhythmic pulses across the crowded room. Amid the growing evening buzz, a young woman sat at the bar, a quiet intensity in her gaze despite the carefree expression she wore. She seemed oblivious to the world around her, one hand draped over a nearly empty glass, her honey-blonde hair cascading over her face in loose waves. Her name was Sadie—a striking figure and an elite member of BLACK LOTUS. Despite the heavy weight of her title, she looked effortlessly at ease in this moment, lost in her own thoughts, the remnants of a smirk on her lips.

Across the counter, Rupert, a tall, sharp-featured man with a calm but alert demeanor, worked efficiently as he poured drinks for a group nearby. Like Sadie, he belonged to BLACK LOTUS, but here at LUX, he seemed to blend into the atmosphere, a mix of ease and controlled purpose in his movements. Noticing Sadie's empty glass, Rupert glanced at her, his lips curving with mild amusement as he looked at the time it's 6:30 pm. "Sadie," he said, his voice smooth yet teasing, "don't you think you're here a bit early? And maybe you're going a little hard tonight?"

Sadie leaned forward, that smirk deepening, her eyes glinting with mischief as she pushed her glass toward him. "Rupert," she drawled, tapping her finger on the rim, "kindly go to hell and pour me another. Or do I need to start making threats?" She raised her middle finger with a flourish, her defiance softened by the playful gleam in her gaze.

Rupert let out a quiet sigh, his gaze shifting to the woman working beside him, his sister, Katia. She was meticulously mixing a drink, yet clearly tuned into the entire conversation, her attention flickering between Sadie's words and the task at hand. With her sleek, Katia exuded a quiet strength. Like Rupert and Sadie, she too was part of BLACK LOTUS, bound by the same invisible threads that tied them to lives both dangerous and disciplined.

Katia shook her head slightly at Sadie's outburst and slid another drink in front of her with a practiced ease. "Here's your drink," she said, her voice calm but carrying a subtle hint of concern. "What's going on?"

Sadie picked up the glass, downing it in a single gulp, and placed it firmly back on the counter, her gaze darting between Rupert and Katia. A hard edge flashed in her eyes, but beneath it lay a raw frustration, barely concealed. "I'm going to India," she said, her voice firm.

The casual energy between the three of them shifted abruptly, and Rupert and Katia exchanged a glance. Rupert's face tightened as he leaned forward, his usual lightheartedness replaced with a serious expression. "You can't just leave, Sadie. We haven't received any orders for that. You know what happens if you break protocol." His voice was low, laced with the weight of unspoken consequences.

Sadie clenched her jaw, her eyes sparking with defiance. "I don't give a fuck about rules or orders right now," she shot back, her voice cracking with the frustration she had held in. "He's out there, living it up—posting his perfect life, girlfriends, wedding parties, all of it. I saw it myself on Instagram, and I'm just… stuck here, drowning in drinks and playing by the rules while he enjoys everything." She stopped, catching her breath, the bitterness of her words hanging heavily in the air.

Katia sighed, sensing Sadie's emotions breaking through her tough exterior. "Come on, Sadie," Katia said softly, trying to ease the tension. "Doesn't he at least call or text you from time to time?"

Sadie scoffed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "A call? A text?" she echoed, a hint of bitterness lacing her words. "It's been five days, Katia. Five days without a single message. And it's not like this is the first time! You're both already here, so why did he even send me off like this? It's been two years since I last saw him face to face."

Rupert and Katia exchanged a knowing look, sympathy written in their expressions. Sadie, feeling the frustration welling up again, grabbed another drink and downed it, trying to drown out the lingering ache.

As she put down her glass, a young man approached her, his eyes gleaming with the unmistakable look of a guy trying his luck. He gave her a cocky grin and leaned in. "Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I keep you company?"

Sadie looked him over, amusement flickering in her gaze as she played along, raising an eyebrow. "Sure thing," she said, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Quick question, though—can you dodge bullets?"

The boy laughed, his expression shifting from confident to puzzled. "What do you mean?" he chuckled, a bit thrown off. "Nobody can dodge bullets."

Sadie's smirk grew, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. Leaning forward, she whispered, "Oh, that's too bad. Because flirting with me might be the riskiest thing you've done tonight." She paused, letting her words sink in, and then added with a playful, almost taunting smile, "You sure you're up for it?"

Seeing the boy's baffled expression, Sadie couldn't help but grin. She flashed her middle finger at him, her voice laced with teasing menace as she said, "My boyfriend can dodge bullets. So, if you don't want your nuts broken, fuck off."

The boy didn't wait for a second invitation, stumbling back before making a quick retreat. Rupert and Katia couldn't hold back their laughter, the sound mingling with the music and hum of the club. Sadie raised an eyebrow, reveling in the chaos she'd caused, and took another sip of her drink, her smile playful.

Suddenly, she grew serious. "I've decided," she said, determination hardening her voice. "I'm leaving for India tomorrow."

Rupert's laughter faded, and he shot her a stern look. "Sadie, I told you—you can't just up and leave. If you try, I'll have to take action."

She looked at him with a challenging grin, eyes glinting. "You really think you can stop me?"

Katia sighed, glancing between them, knowing how stubborn Sadie could be. Rupert was about to say something else when, suddenly, their phones all buzzed simultaneously. They looked at one another, then took out their devices. The screen lit up with a familiar black lotus symbol, followed by an address and time. Sadie, Rupert, and Katia exchanged knowing glances, the message cutting through any remaining tension.

Rupert chuckled, nodding toward her phone. "Looks like you don't have to go to India after all."

Sadie's eyes lingered on the screen, a smirk tugging at her lips. "When I see him, I'm going to kill him."

Katia chuckled, crossing her arms. "But didn't you just say he can dodge bullets? How are you going to manage that?"

Sadie rolled her eyes but didn't respond. Instead, she took another drink, her gaze softening as a smile curled on her lips—a smile that held equal parts mischief and warmth. She'd waited long enough.

(A/N: Guys, don't you get the reference to "LUX"? This nightclub is quite famous and comes from a well-known series.)

(A/N: If you'd like to support me, please use this UPI: omgadekar29@oksbi "Om Gadekar". If you do, please let me know your webnovel name so I can recognize you.)

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