Chapter 102 102
DAISY POV
Blood dripped from my face onto the cold concrete floor.
Drop… after drop… after drop.
Warm and sticky, it slid down my cheek, tracing a slow path along my jaw before soaking into the collar of my shirt. The metallic scent filled my nose, thick and nauseating. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I stared at the spreading red spots, my vision blurring with tears.
I slowly lifted my eyes and looked at Diesel.
There was pure shock written across his face. His storm-gray eyes were wide, locked on the blood covering me. For a terrifying second, the whole room seemed to freeze. Then he muttered, his voice rough and low, almost broken:
“Thank you, Star…”
He was looking straight at me, even while Donald screamed in pain behind him, clutching his bleeding hand. Diesel didn’t spare the man a single glance. He walked toward me slowly, his heavy boots echoing in the small office. With surprising gentleness, he lifted his hand and wiped the blood from my cheek with his thumb, then from my jaw.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice deep and steady, eyes searching mine.
I nodded, even though I was still shaking in fear. My body wouldn’t stop trembling. I couldn’t even utter a word.
Donald had been sexually harassing me — groping me, forcing his mouth on mine — and the fear was still choking me. I never expected Diesel to hear my scream. I never expected the gunshot. Everything was too much, too fast.
Diesel gave me a small smile, the kind that was meant to comfort me.
“Let me wrap this up fast,” he said softly, almost casually, as if we were just finishing a normal conversation and needed to head home. “So we can leave.”
I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. My throat was too tight. The memory of Donald’s hands on me, his tongue forcing its way in, still burned on my skin.
Diesel smiled once more at me, then turned around.
He raised his gun and fired a shot toward Donald, who was still growling in pain on the floor.
But Donald rolled desperately to the side at the last second. The bullet missed him.
My eyes darted to the CCTV monitor on the wall. The gunshot had clearly alerted Donald’s boys. On the screen, I could see them moving fast — grabbing weapons, rushing toward the office.
Fear spiked through me. I looked back at Diesel in panic.
But he had already moved.
In two powerful strides, Diesel reached Donald. His large hand shot out and wrapped around Donald’s neck in a crushing grip. With terrifying ease, he lifted the man clean off the ground and slammed him hard against the wall.
Donald’s feet dangled in the air. His face turned red as Diesel’s fingers tightened around his throat, cutting off his air. The man who had just been screaming threats now choked and gasped, eyes bulging with real terror.
Diesel’s voice came out low, cold, and filled with deadly promise — the kind of voice that made the temperature in the room drop.
“How dare you?”
He still had Donald pinned against the wall with one massive hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him so high that only the tips of Donald’s boots scraped the floor. Diesel’s aura filled the entire room — heavy, dark, and terrifying. The air itself felt colder. This wasn’t the man who had gently wiped blood from my cheek moments ago. This was the monster everyone in the city feared.
Donald was still trying to speak through the pain, his voice rasping and broken. Even with Diesel’s fingers crushing his windpipe, that disgusting smirk somehow stayed on his bloody lips.
“You… think this changes anything?” he choked out. “I hate to lose… I would rather kill her than have a game over.”
Diesel’s eyes darkened until they looked almost black. His jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. Blood poured steadily from the knife wound in his side, soaking his shirt and dripping onto the floor, but he didn’t even flinch. The pain only seemed to make his anger burn hotter.
He wanted to end it right there.
Diesel shifted the gun in his free hand and pressed the barrel hard against Donald’s forehead.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Diesel—no!” I cried, lunging forward in fear.
He pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened.
The gun was empty.
I let out a short breath of relief. I was kind of happy the gun was empty — watching him kill someone was just… too much. But the second Donald’s bloody smirk widened on his face again, I wished that bullet had been meant for me. He laughed through the chokehold, then spat a thick mouthful of blood straight into Diesel’s face.
The room went deathly still.
Diesel slowly turned his head back to Donald. The blood dripped down his cheek, but his expression didn’t change. It only grew darker. More dangerous.
Without saying a word, he loosened his grip on Donald’s throat just enough for the man to drop a few inches, then drove his fist brutally into Donald’s face.
The punch landed with a sickening crack. Donald’s head snapped to the side.
Diesel didn’t stop.
He punched him again. And again. Each hit was heavy and full of raw, uncontrolled fury. Donald’s smirk finally shattered. His head lolled, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. He looked like he was about to pass out.
Terror gripped me so hard my legs shook.
“Diesel, stop!” I begged, my voice breaking. Tears streamed down my face. “Please… stop! You’re going to kill him!”
But he wasn’t listening.
He wasn’t Diesel anymore.
The anger had completely taken over. His aura was suffocating — dark, heavy, and unstoppable. He kept Donald pinned against the wall in the same brutal position, one hand around his throat, the other delivering punishing blows to his face.
“For my brothers,” he muttered, voice low and venomous as another punch landed.
Donald groaned weakly.
“For my woman.”
Another brutal hit. Donald’s head snapped back.
“For my woman,” he growled it louder, sending a heavy punch.
“For the years of draining her.”
“For years of making her miserable.”
“For stopping her from having her dream life.”
“For taking her peace away.”
Tears dropped from my eyes as Diesel went on and on, listing every pain I had suffered. I had wished for a savior moment like this for so long, but I never thought it would come to pass. It tightened my chest with a strange mix of gratitude and fear.
At the same time, Diesel was now looking scary. I had never seen him like this. The gentle man who had wiped blood from my cheek was gone. This was pure rage.
“Diesel, please!” I cried louder, stepping closer even though my whole body was trembling. “Stop! You’re bleeding too much… please!”
He didn’t hear me.
His eyes stayed locked on Donald, fist rising again.
I glanced desperately at the CCTV monitor. Donald’s boys were closing in fast. Their shouts and heavy footsteps were already echoing down the hallway, getting closer every second.
Panic surged through me.
I rushed to the office door, slammed it shut, and turned the lock with shaking hands. The metallic click sounded too loud in the room.
I ran back to Diesel and grabbed his arm with both of my hands, pulling desperately.
“Diesel, stop! They’re coming! Please, we have to go!”
But he still didn’t respond.
His aura remained crushing. He kept Donald pinned in the same spot, muttering those same angry words between each punishing blow, completely lost in the rage that had swallowed him whole.
I said a lot of things, but none of them seemed to reach his ears. My chest was already in pain from fear and shock.
I had to stop him.
With trembling hands, I reached up and held his fist gently. My voice came out quiet, broken, and full of pain.
“You are hurting me…”
That was all it took.
Diesel froze.
He stopped mid-punch. Donald dropped from his hand like a bag of stones, collapsing to the floor in a heap.
Even with that scary, rage-filled face, Diesel turned to look at me. His eyes examined me carefully, searching for my pain, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
But then a gunshot hit the door.
The door burst open.
Author’s Note:
How was this chapter for you? 🔥
I want to know — on a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate Diesel’s aura, anger, and protectiveness in this chapter?
Drop your rating in the comments along with any thoughts!
Thanks for reading…