Chapter 2 of MARKED FOR YOU! Assassin's Love and Betrayal ❤️💔

💔 CHAPTER TWO — THE GIRL HE COULDN’T LOOK AWAY FROM

Kael couldn’t sleep.

Not that he ever really did—but tonight, she haunted him.

The girl in red.

He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know where she came from. Only that she looked like she didn’t belong at that gala, and still managed to steal the entire room—and his attention—with just a glance.

And that touch.

His hand still tingled where their fingers met. He couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes. Cold and guarded... but somewhere deep inside, sad.

He sat in his penthouse, city lights glittering below, shirt half unbuttoned, fingers tapping against his whiskey glass. His phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

> “You shouldn’t be thinking about me.”

He froze.

Typing…

> Kael: “Too late.”

She didn’t reply.

But he knew it was her.

---

Nira lay in bed, one hand over her eyes, phone in the other. Her heart shouldn’t be fluttering. Her breath shouldn’t hitch when he replied. She was trained to manipulate emotions—not feel them.

This was a mistake.

She should disappear now before it got messy. Before she got attached.

But then his next message came through:

> Kael: “Can I see you again?”

“Just coffee. No suits, no cameras. Just you.”

She stared at the screen, the words softening something inside her she didn’t even know existed.

She typed:

> “One coffee. Then you forget me.”

---

The café was quiet. No guards. No suits. Just Kael in a black hoodie and jeans, sitting at a table near the window, tapping his thumb nervously on a mug of coffee.

When Nira walked in, his breath caught.

She wasn’t wearing red this time. Just jeans, boots, and a grey t-shirt. Still beautiful. Still dangerous. But softer, somehow.

“Wow,” he said, standing up.

She raised a brow. “You didn’t even know what I’d wear.”

“I didn’t need to.” He smiled. “It was going to be ‘wow’ either way.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched at the corners. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you,” he said. “I’m just telling the truth.”

And for the first time, she believed him.

They talked. About nothing and everything. Books. Music. Childhood memories—his, not hers. She lied about where she grew up. Lied about her name—she called herself "Mira".

But the laughter?

That was real.

So was the feeling she got when he looked at her like she wasn’t just a stranger—but someone he wanted to memorize.

---

Two hours passed like minutes.

As she stood to leave, he reached for her hand—but this time she pulled away.

“I told you. Just coffee,” she whispered.

He nodded, slowly. “I know. But if I asked you to stay longer?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I didn’t ask if I should.”

She looked up at him—and for a moment, her mask cracked. Just enough for him to see it:

She didn’t want to leave.

But she did.

Because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to do what she came to do.

And the more time she spent with him, the harder it would be to end the man who made her feel alive.

---

To be continued… 🌒