Chapter 7 I Find Myself Quite Taken With You

Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension.

Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries.

The scene was stark-one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor.

Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power.

His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability.

The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively.

Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace.

Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene.

Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him.

One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car.

As he dabbed at the blood dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him.

Cristian seemed invincible, but the woman accompanying him in his vehicle appeared more approachable for their plans.

Her presence in Cristian's car hinted at a deep bond between them. Taking her hostage might push Cristian into submission.

Thus, the man leapt up and violently swung the car door open.

Just as his hand moved toward Fernanda's arm, she shot him a cold, piercing glare and hissed, "Go ahead, touch me-I'll make you pay for it, you piece of trash."

He paused, momentarily unnerved. Even with his extensive background in rough encounters, the resolute confidence exuding from her was unexpectedly intimidating.

It was clear she wasn't just anyone and certainly not someone to mess with. Her formidable presence was unmistakably genuine, emanating a stern aura that couldn't be contrived.

Suddenly, a harsh cry of agony from behind him broke the tense standoff as another associate crumpled to the ground.

With his jaw clenched, he snapped, "Who do you think you are? How dare you speak to me that way?"

His grip on her arm tightened as he growled, "Get the fuck out, right now!"

Without a moment's delay, Fernanda responded with a swift kick to his stomach.

The man howled in pain, doubling over and collapsing to the pavement, clutching his gut and writhing.

Fernanda elegantly exited the car, casually wiping away his touch from her arm as though it were a smear of dirt. Her eyes, fierce and contemptuous, narrowed as she flashed a scornful smile. "I gave you a warning, but you had to ignore it and screw yourself over!"

The man sprawled on the pavement, his curses echoing through the air as he bellowed to his accomplices, "Don't just stand there-take her down! That bitch needs to learn her place!"

At his furious command, a few attackers shifted their focus from Cristian and sprinted menacingly toward Fernanda.

Cristian's face turned grim, a flicker of concern evident in his deep, dark eyes. He sprang into action, moving swiftly to cut them off.

Yet, he was unprepared for the scene that unfolded before him.

Fernanda was not just defending herself. She was dominating the fight.

Cristian had witnessed women fight others before, but Fernanda was in a league of her own.

Her strikes-punches and kicks-were delivered with a lethal precision, her moves fluid and resolute. She was a whirlwind of force, each motion seamlessly flowing into the next.

Within moments, the asphalt around her was strewn with the fallen, each groaning in defeat.

She capped her display with a formidable shoulder throw, sending a hefty man-easily over 200 pounds-crashing down onto the concrete with a thud. Standing up, she dusted off her hands, her breath calm and measured. As she surveyed the dwindling number of foes, a smirk played across her lips. "Who's next?"

The remaining few shared a look of trepidation and scattered, their retreat so hasty that one clipped a utility pole with his car in their scramble to escape.

Fernanda's scoff cut through the diminishing chaos. "You guys are crap."

With the threat neutralized, Cristian slid his knife back into its sheath and approached her, his gaze intense and inscrutable as he studied her poised figure.

Bathed in the mellow radiance of street lamps, her enchanting features and radiant eyes shone prominently, casting an ethereal glow.

She embodied the elegance of a young lady who appeared refined and composed. Yet, witnessing her in action revealed layers beyond what was visible at first glance.

Cristian's lips tilted into a soft, knowing smile.

The evening breeze ruffled his hair, exposing his smooth forehead and highlighting his striking features.

The playful sparkle in his eyes, combined with his carefree grin, lent him an alluring charm.

Avoiding his intense stare, Fernanda looked elsewhere, though his magnetic aura was impossible to ignore.

That smile of his had nearly thrown her off balance.

"Not bad," he commented casually, his voice a low, enticing hum.

Suddenly, he closed the distance between them, his features becoming more prominent in her view.

Fernanda, caught off guard, recoiled slightly, her instinct to maintain distance kicking in. However, Cristian was quicker, his hand securing her waist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling her into his embrace.

As her resistance waned, she found herself melting into the warmth of his body.

With a tender gesture, Cristian tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her delicate features.

"You're full of surprises," he murmured, admiration lacing his tone. "I find myself quite taken with you."