12.

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I was taken aback by Kali's appearance, even though she wore a mask that concealed much of her face. Her long, flowing hair, usually tied in a bun, cascaded around her shoulders in a wild, untamed manner. The way it framed her delicate features only added to her enchanting allure. There was a captivating mystique about her, heightened by her piercing eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets.

Clad in a simple black t-shirt and fitted jeans, Kali's attire accentuated her curves flawlessly. The confident way she carried herself exuded strength and authority. Completing her ensemble were combat boots that added an extra edge to her already fierce presence. As I observed her, I couldn't help but be captivated by the intricate tattoos adorning her arms. They only enhanced her already undeniable allure, accentuating the powerful aura that surrounded her.

My thoughts were interrupted by the gruesome scene unfolding before us, a display of violence that felt surreal. I found myself questioning the sanity of anyone who could calmly enjoy a meal while witnessing such brutality. Kali's efficiency and precision in dispatching her target with a dagger left me both disturbed and strangely intrigued. While Alex's face betrayed shock and fear, Rafael, to my utter dismay, seemed to revel in the spectacle. The sight disgusted me, and I silently vowed to keep a watchful eye on him, concerned about his fascination with the world of organized crime.

But my focus shifted back to Kali, realizing that caution was crucial in my approach. My mind was reeling with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions, and I knew I had to tread carefully with her.

In the midst of my thoughts, a familiar voice pierced through the air, drawing my attention away from the disturbing scene. "Aurora, my dear friend. You promised me a trip to Paris while I'm away from the devil. And could I perhaps borrow one of your cars? Pretty please." The voice, laced with familiarity and a touch of desperation, resonated within me. It was Damon, my brother, the one I believed was being held captive by Kali. But his words confused and angered me. Was he not being held captive by Kali? Why was he talking about a trip to Paris?

"Damon Harenzyade," I growled, anger bubbling within me, my jaw clenched tight. "Care to explain what you just said, brother?"

Damon's eyes widened, the fatigue evaporating from his face as he realized his slip of the tongue. He glanced nervously at Kali, who responded with an indifferent shrug, then back at me.

"Killiam, it's not what you think," he stammered, his gaze avoiding mine. "I...uh...I meant...it was just a joke. You know how I am, always making silly remarks."

Crossing my arms, I leveled him with a stern gaze, my frustration palpable. "Damon, we've been searching for you for weeks, thinking you were in danger, held captive. And now you talk about a trip to Paris? This is not a time for jokes."

Guilt crept into Damon's expression as my words struck home. "I'm sorry, Killiam. I didn't mean to worry you. Kali... she's not what you think. She's been helping me."

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