The smell of burnt wood filled the air. A dull thump resonated between his temples.
Rosy opened her eyes and discovered that she was in an unknown place.
The ceiling was dazzling white. Silk curtains danced in the breeze. She heard a melody. She tried to sit down, but a sharp pain shot through her shoulder.
"Don't move, if you don't want to aggravate your injuries. You're still weak," said a calm voice.
Rosy turned her head. And saw a man sitting in the shadows, a book in his hand. His dark hair shone in the light. And his gray eyes weighed on her like a blade.
"Where am I? And who are you?" asked Rosy.
"Safe, for now." You can call me Victor."
"Victor" she said in a low voice.
She remembered that name somewhere... before the explosion and the fall.
"And Ranbir?" she asked suddenly.
"Ranbir?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know anyone by that name."
Worried, Rosy felt a hand close around hers.
"You were found unconscious, almost dead. If I hadn't brought you here, you would be in the morgue right now."
"So why save me?" she asked.
"Maybe to kill you myself one day." Victor smiled coldly before closing his book and leaving the room.
"Get some rest, Rosy. You'll need all your strength." The door closed behind him after these words.
Rosy stood alone in the room, breathless, staring at the ceiling. Under the sheets, she felt something against her skin: a bullet-shaped pendant. Glancing behind the necklace, she saw an engraved word: Ranbir.
She closed her eyes.
This time, she vows to discover the identity of the person who wanted her dead.