AUTHOR'S POV

“Saanvi?”

Saanvi hears the voice and turns, Adrika sitting beside her on the couch, fingers softly wrapped around hers, grounding her. Saanvi offers a smile, the kind that barely lifts the corners of her lips. It doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Adrika watches her for a moment, then clicks her tongue. “You read all those books. Tell me honestly, how did you imagine your own love story playing out?”

Saanvi exhales a dry laugh and shakes her head slowly. “I read them just to pass time. Those stories were random thoughts, nothing real. I never imagined mine.”

Adrika nods faintly, letting out a soft sigh. Saanvi notices and presses her lips together, something unspoken passing between them. “What about you?” She asks, “You told me you and Og didn’t start with a typical marriage... so what changed? When did it really begin to feel like something?”

Adrika lifts her gaze, tempered by a hint of shyness. “You remember I told you I had to work under him as his secretary when I was just starting my business?”

Saanvi nods, intrigued, eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“Well, one day—” she begins, then falters, her voice catching slightly. A blush creeps up her cheeks.

Saanvi raises an eyebrow, “Oh no. Don’t do that. Now I have to know.”

Adrika lets out a breath, “It had been around eleven months since our marriage. That day… we had a meeting....”

“Adrika, that—” Abhiraj snaps, “was hands down the dumbest decision I’ve seen in months.”

He places one hand flat on the desk beside her, the other running through his perfectly styled hair in controlled frustration.

She sits quietly, head bowed, fingers clenched together in her lap like a scolded intern.

“This is business. Not kindergarten. You were about to nod along to their demands like they were offering free candy. Use your brain, at least pretend to have one in the boardroom. Who the hell agrees to a deal just because the other party won’t back down?”

He leans over her shoulder, his presence looming, magnetic and infuriating. He taps on her screen, not even looking at her now. “Did you even read the pointers I made for you?”

She peeks at him from the corner of her eye. He’s too close, his scent, his cologne, lingers between bold and sinful. His beard is clean-cut, jaw clenched from irritation. The veins in his forearm flex subtly as he types, the tension in his arms visible beneath the tailored blazer, and his chest, partially visible through his open collar, is distracting enough to make her forget every pointer he wrote. Her gaze drops unintentionally to his lips.

He finally notices. And just like that, he stops talking. His eyes shift to her face.

Her hair tied high, sleek and straight, cascading down her back. A white fitted blouse clings to her frame, paired with a high-waisted pencil skirt that hugs her curves, falling just above the knees. Her lips slightly parted. Eyes locked on him.

He blinks and straightens abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance. “Stand up,” he orders.

She pushes her chair back, standing slowly, heart drumming against her ribs.

“You need to get your act together,” he begins, “This is not how any of this works. Next time—”

But the words freeze in his throat.

She leans in, tiptoes, and presses her lips to his. Abhiraj goes rigid, air knocked out of his lungs. He just watches her, stunned, as she stumbles back in panic. Her breath shakes as she realizes what just happened. His gaze stays locked on her, stunned.

Her cheeks burn crimson. She snatches her phone, mutters something inaudible, and rushes out, heels clicking against the marble floor.

Abhiraj stands there, one hand still on the desk, the other drifting up to touch his lips. He breathes in sharply, exhaling through clenched teeth.

--------

A week passes and she ignores him like he doesn’t exist.

At home, she ghosts him, silent entrances, early exits. At work, she vanishes when he walks in. If he tries to speak, she finds excuses, routes, detours. The only words she speaks are in meetings, and even then, professionally. Abhiraj waits, watches, tries but she won’t let him near.

Until one afternoon, he walks into her cabin and stops at the sight before him.

She’s laughing, genuinely. Her head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, a hand playfully tapping the wrist of the male employee sitting across her desk. He’s smiling too, talking fast, and she’s wiping tears from her eyes.

He clicks his tongue and knocks. She turns, mid-laugh, and her expression falls. The man straightens and stands up, offering Abhiraj a polite smile. “Sir—”

“Out,” Abhiraj says without even glancing at him. She instinctively begins to rise.

“Not you,” he mutters coldly. His gaze locked on the man. “You.”

The colleague hesitates, glances at Adrika, then quietly excuses himself and leaves.

She wipes her palms on her skirt, the tension crawling up her neck and suddenly she stands.

“Sit,” he commands.

“I was just going to—”

“I said sit, Adrika.”

She lowers herself slowly, facing her monitor, avoiding his eyes.

He walks over, locks the door with a soft click, and moves behind her chair. He doesn’t speak, just leans in until his breath skims her ear.

“You finished the file?”

Her eyes shut briefly. “Yes, sir. I submitted it to Mr. Banerjee.”

“Who did I ask you to submit it to?”

“You.”

“And who did you actually submit it to?”

“Mr. Banerjee.”

“Why?”

“I—I was in a hurry—”

“Oh, really?” His hands suddenly grip the sides of her chair and spin it and pull her closer toward him making her gasp.

“You didn’t seem in a rush when you were giggling at his very original jokes. What was it, a math pun?”

“I was just being polite—he’s an old friend—”

“Funny. I don’t see you being polite with me lately,” he cuts in. “You’ve been running from me like I’m the plague. I breathe near you and you vanish like a damn ghost.” She swallows, shifting uncomfortably.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Bullshit,” he snaps, “Don’t play me for a fool. You used to say good morning. You used to wish me goodnight. You used to talk about your day like it mattered to me and now? You treat me like I’m invisible.”

Adrika opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

His gaze drops to her lips.

“You kissed me,” he murmurs softly. “Then ran.”

“I didn’t mean to...I'm really sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he breathes, stepping closer. One hand comes up, his fingers grazing her jaw before sliding to her neck, to the base of her throat “Because now… I want more.”

He gently tipped her face up and his mouth crashes onto hers. She freezes for a beat, then melts, hands fisting in his shirt, yanking him closer. His hands slide to her waist, lifting her onto the desk pushing her skirt higher as he wedges himself between her legs.

Their kiss turns desperate teeth grazing, lips bruising. His hands grip her waist, pulling her flush against him. He slides one hand up her thigh, the other tangling in her hair, tugging her head back to deepen the kiss.

They pull back only when air becomes necessary, breath ragged, foreheads pressed together.

“You don’t get to light a fire and then walk away, Adrika.” he pants, brushing her lower lip with his thumb, “Never, ignore me like that again.”

She nods, breathless.

“Is it okay… if I say I’ve started feeling something for you?” he murmurs nervously.

“It is,” she whispers. “Because I do too.”

He chuckles, brushing his nose against hers. But the air grows heavy again. Their smiles flicker, then disappear entirely as their lips crash once more. They kiss again, rougher, needier. His mouth trails down her throat, biting at her collarbone. Her hands tug at his belt, then fingers tear at his buttons, popping them open one by one. His own hands are at her blouse his own tearing open her blouse, halfway undone.

The room feels too hot. Their breath mingles in the space between gasps, and all that's left are the sloppy, wet sounds of hungry mouths and the rustle of fabric being pushed aside.

Saanvi gasps, her hand flying over her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief. She leans forward instinctively, her other hand gesturing midair as if trying to physically catch her breath. “You’re kidding,” she whispers, voice shaking with the kind of excitement. “You actually kissed him in the middle of a business fight?”

Adrika chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks down for a second, almost shy. “I didn’t plan to. It just… happened.”

“No,” Saanvi shakes her head, “this isn’t just something that happens, Maa. This is what books and web series dream of.” Her hand flails upward dramatically before falling to her lap. “That was iconic.”

Adrika laughs under her breath, rubbing her hand over her cheek as if trying to cool the warmth settling in.

“Then? What happened after that? ” She leans in even more, eyes urging.

Adrika exhales, a slow, fond sigh, then tilts her chin slightly and gestures toward the next couch with a subtle nod.

Saanvi follows her gaze.

There, sprawled out, Rudra sits scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered. He looks up, sensing the attention he glances up and offers them a soft smile.

“Result of that day.” Adrika says dryly.

Saanvi slowly turns back to Adrika, then her eyes trail back to Rudra, narrowing slightly like she’s trying to understand how that man could possibly be the product of such a charged, passionate origin story. She blinks once, then twice. Her expression morphs instantly, from intrigue to utter disappointment. She lets out a heavy breath through her nose, clicking her tongue disapprovingly as she slowly turns back to Adrika.

“I know,” Adrika just shrugs helplessly.

Saanvi places a hand gently over Adrika’s and pats it with a deadpan nod. “It’s okay, maa. The product might be useless… but at least you had fun making it.”

Adrika bites her lower lip, trying not to laugh, her shoulders trembling with the effort.

Meanwhile, across the room, Rudra frowns. He glances between the two of them, then looks down at his outfit as if wondering if his shirt is unbuttoned wrong. “Why are you both looking at me like that? Is it about me?”

They don’t answer. Just sip their tea.

✦✦✦✦✦

The SUV halts with a low growl near the edge of the abandoned warehouse. Rudra steps out, his hand reaching behind to secure the gun beneath his jacket. He adjusts the black leather collar, his boots thudding against the cold cement as he scans the scattered pillars under fractured sunlight bleeding through the roof.

Near a broken window stands a man his back turned, posture too casual for a place like this. His silhouette framed in a beam of light slicing through the cracked wall.

“You ever wonder,” the man mutters without looking back. “what happens when the shield forgets it’s made of flesh?”

He turns slowly, a ghost of a smile playing on his face. “Even the protector, sometimes needs protecting. Or worse… forgets from whom they should be protected.”

Rudra doesn’t react. His eyes stay locked on the man.

“Rithvik,” he murmurs lifting a hand, mockingly. “Pleasure.”

“You didn’t call me here to exchange philosophies,” Rudra says flatly. “Talk.”

Rithvik clicks his tongue, steps forward. “I came to deliver a warning. The kind no one really listens to until the bodies drop.”

“About what?”

“The grave you’re digging with your own hands.”

Rudra raises a brow. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“Suhana Malhotra,” Rithvik responds, “She’s gone. Let her sleep before what she buried wakes up instead because some graves are better sealed than studied.”

“Who sent you?”

Rithvik chuckles under his breath. “Someone who’s known you long enough to stop underestimating you… but smart enough not to face you directly. Let’s just say... someone you're not ready to believe in yet. You know… the kind who doesn’t knock before entering your life.”

“Must be embarrassing for him then,” Rudra mutters shrugging.

He steps closer, “Send your wife back to New York. Keep her out of this. You, her, your family, they all walk away alive if you stop now.”

Rudra exhales, “You know what I find amusing?” He cocks his head slightly. “The confidence of men who deliver threats wrapped in riddles, hoping it’ll sound poetic when it’s really just cowardice.”

Rithvik chuckles darkly. “I saw your mother yesterday.”

Rudra’s jaw tightens.

Rithvik smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Lovely woman. Walked past me with a smile. Told me to be careful, the sidewalk was slippery. Honestly, I'd hesitate if I ever got the order to kill—”

Before he can finish, Rudra lunges forward.

His hand snatches Rithvik by the collar, slamming him hard against the cracked pillar. The impact shakes dust loose from the concrete above. Rudra drives his fist into Rithvik’s jaw once, clean and brutal.

“Mention her again,” Rudra growls, “and I’ll make sure you don’t get another word out.”

Rithvik spits blood, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning through the sting.

“I’m not the one putting her in danger, Rudra,” he says, breath uneven. “You are. You brought fire into your own house… and now you’re shocked it’s burning.”

He straightens his jacket, looking Rudra in the eye. “Make your wife disappear. If not for her, then for the people she still doesn’t know she’s putting at risk.”

Rudra steps back, fists still clenched. “Saarth sent you, didn’t he?”

Rithvik raises an eyebrow. “Saarth?” He chuckles, “Saarth has more pressing matters than dealing with your self-righteous crusade.”

“Right. So he sends his mouthpiece,” Rudra mocks. “Didn’t know that the bastard had such poetic dogs.”

Rithvik’s smile vanishes. “That attitude, Rudra,” Rithvik sneers, tilting his head slightly. “Pretty brave for a man who just signs cheques for a living… while standing three seconds away from a bullet in the brain.”

Rudra lifts a brow, unimpressed. “You rehearsed that?”

Rithvik chuckles under his breath, then reaches back, pulls out a handgun, and presses it to Rudra’s forehead.

“This’ll make it clear.”

Rudra doesn’t blink, his stare stays fixed blank, no fear, just silence. His calm terrifies more than any scream could. He looks Rithvik dead in the eyes. “Then pull the trigger.”

Rithvik hesitates just for a second but then a sudden shot rings out. For a moment, neither of them moves. Their eyes stay locked, suspended in a beat that shouldn’t last.

One of them collapses to the ground.

Rithvik’s body hits the floor, eyes wide in frozen disbelief. Blood pools rapidly beneath his temple.

Rudra’s gaze doesn’t shift, not immediately until the view behind Rithvik clears with his fall. His eyes lift.

Vedant stands there, lowering his gun, face expressionless, no words, no theatrics. He steps forward with the same stoic calm he always carries.

He stops beside Rudra, glancing once at the body on the ground.

“Did he say anything useful?”

Rudra exhales through his nose, “Nothing we didn’t already know.”

Vedant nods once.

The two men walk out, boots echoing through the warehouse.

Behind them, Rithvik lies still. Blood trailing from his head. The message he came with cut off before it reached its end.

RUDRA'S POV

I sit in the backseat. Vedant takes the wheel in silence and starts the engine.

Suhana Malhotra.

Saarth?

The name echoes in my head, but something doesn’t add up. The way Rithvik smiled when I mentioned Saarth... Someone else sent him. I don’t know who, but my gut’s rarely wrong.

I rest my head back, eyes fixed out the window as the car moves. My thoughts spiral faster than the streets passing by. What really happened to Mrs. Malhotra?

I rub my temple, trying to piece together a puzzle with half the corners missing.

“Vedant,” I say, not taking my eyes off the glass. “That coverage on Mrs. Malhotra... which outlet ran it first? The official report. Who covered it?”

“Westbridge Times. California-based press,” Vedant answers, eyes still on the road. “They were the only ones who ran the full report.”

Only one outlet. One story. One version of events. They have to know something.

Before I can spiral deeper, my phone buzzes. Unknown number. I answer without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Rudra.”

I frown. “Who is this?”

“I used to call her father for conversations like this,” the man says, “But look at that... now it’s you. Funny how time shifts. How roles change. You’re the one always orbiting around Saanvi now, aren’t you?” A chuckle crackles through the line.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“She’s in front of me. Sitting at the last table in the canteen. Looks peaceful, sipping coffee, scrolling her phone... should I say hi for you?”

My blood runs cold.

“Don’t you fucking touch her—”

“Your face must look priceless right now,” he cuts in, “Don’t worry. I won’t touch her. Yet. But I suggest you get here before I change my mind.” He hangs up.

"Fuck!" I stare at the screen. My chest is burning. “Vedant, drive to the hospital. Now. Canteen side.” I say quickly, already dialing her number. The phone rings once, twice, I swallow hard, but it goes unanswered.

“Come on,” I mutter. “Pick up.” The silence is deafening. My grip tightens on the phone.

“Pick up the damn phone!” My voice cracks in panic. My pulse is thudding in my ears now, loud enough to drown out every sound.

“Vedant,” I snap, “I said push the speed she’s in danger.”

He stays unnervingly composed. “I’m already over the limit.”

I glare at him through the rearview mirror, frustration clawing at my throat. “Miss Sharma is with her—”

Before I can finish, the car jolts forward as he slams harder on the accelerator, the engine roaring down the road. I grab the handle to steady myself.

Cold bastard waits for confirmation, then drives like hell

-----------

The car screeches to a halt. I push the door open and head straight inside, my boots loud against the floor. I reach the canteen doors, eyes scanning the space. And then I see her. Corner table. Scrolling her phone, coffee in hand. Peaceful, just like he said.

My chest loosens all at once. The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding spills out, slow and heavy. She’s safe. Sitting there.

I rush toward her. She looks up and frowns the moment she sees me. I grab her wrist and pull her up.

“You okay?”

She shrugs, confused. “I was... until you came running in like a maniac.”

Before she can ask more, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me.

“What are you doing?” she mumbles,

“Just give me a second,” I whisper against her hair, eyes shut. “Let me stay like this... just for a moment.”

Her hands stay at her sides, hesitant. “Your heartbeat...it's soo fast. Is everything alright?” she asks.

I nod slowly and pull back, just enough to see her face. My hands come up, cupping her cheek as I study her, needing to see her up close, to remind myself she’s actually here. In those fifteen minutes, I lived through hell. The kind that strips you down and leaves you bare. I thought I was too used to fear. But I’ve never felt this kind of fear.

“Sorry to interrupt,” A calm voice cuts through the moment. I turn to Vedant. She peeks past my shoulder to look at him.

“Can you tell me where Naina is?” he asks.

Saanvi tilts her head. “Naina? She should be in the hospital. She wasn’t with me.”

Vedant exhales slowly, like he's trying to keep himself in check. But the moment his eyes find mine, the restraint slips, just enough to show.

Let him glare. Like I give a damn.

✦✦✦✦✦

“Pack your bags.”

The words leave my mouth and the room falls into silence. Every head turns toward me, but my eyes are fixed on her.

She blinks, confused. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I repeat, “Pack your bags.”

Her brows knit together, lips parting slightly, she has no idea what’s going on. But before she can ask again, Dad’s voice cuts in from across the room.

“And who the hell do you think you are to order her around like that?”

I shift my eyes to him, “She needs to move out.”

“She won’t,” Mom snaps, standing abruptly. “But you will if you talk like that again.”

I glance at Dad. He’s the only one who’ll understand the urgency beneath my words. “I need to speak with you. Alone.”

He studies my face for a beat, and he sees the alarm I’m trying to keep buried. He looks at Mom, then at Saanvi, and finally nods.

---

“You were hiding this?” He scoffs, “All this time?”

I exhale, hands gripping the back of a chair. “Dad, I get it, she means a lot to you. To Mom. To me. But this isn’t about emotions anymore. This is about what’s real. Whoever’s behind this... they’re not just targeting her. They’re coming for the people connected to her. And today—” I pause, forcing myself to say it. “Today, it was almost Mom.”

His jaw clenches. “Adrika?”

“We need to act, not react,” I tell him, steady and serious.

He exhales sharply, “So your solution is what? To send her away from the Singhania Mansion and make her live somewhere... alone?”

My brows pull together. “Alone?” I shake my head, frustrated. “You really think I’d let her go through this by herself? I’m going with her. The location’s already arranged. Secure. Confidential. Kabir’s team will be handling everything, she’ll be guarded better than anyone in this house.”

He runs a hand down his face, “Rudra, how do you expect me to look her in the eye and say she has to leave? Do you know what she means to me now? She looks at me like... like I’m her real father now. And somewhere in all of that... she became my daughter. How am I supposed to tell her to leave? When I know she’s at risk? How do I push her away in the name of protection?”

I step closer. “I know what she means to you. I do. But this is bigger than feelings now. We don’t get second chances in this game. If we hesitate, even for a second, someone else pays for it.”

“And if something happens to her while she’s out there?”

“It won’t,” I say firmly. “I’m not taking her away to abandon her, Dad. I’m taking her to protect her. And I’ll take the blame for it if it makes it easier for her to walk away from this house.”

He stays silent, the weight of it all pressing down on his shoulders. I see the war behind his eyes. Finally, he nods, just slightly. But it’s enough.

---

We return to the hallway. Mom sits beside Saanvi on the couch. Both look up as we enter.

“We’re leaving in two days,” I say flatly. “Start packing.”

Mom stands, eyes wide with disbelief. “The hell she will.” She whirls to Dad. “Abhi, say something.”

Dad closes his eyes, exhaling long and heavy before he speaks. “Saanvi... needs to move.”

Pearl stares at him.

“Abhi,” Mom’s voice rises, hurt and angry, “what the hell are you saying?”

Pearl rises slowly and walks up to him, brows furrowed. “Is this... because of me?”

Dad doesn’t answer, not right away. Just lowers his gaze.

“I already know,” she says quietly. “My dad warned me a few days ago. I know I’m not safe.”

He lifts his head and gently takes her hands in his. “Where you’re going, no one can touch you. I promise.”

She smiles softly. “You don’t need to feel guilty, OG. I know you have your reasons. We’re alike in more ways than people think, and maybe that’s why you always understood me, even when I made decisions without explaining myself. You never questioned me… you just stood by me. Trusted me. And now it’s my turn to do the same for you. Nothing you say or do can erase what you’ve been to me when I had no one. I trust you… that doesn’t change.”

He looks down, jaw tight, eyes glistening. And then he pulls her into a hug. She wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just… don’t abandon me,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You’re not like a father to me… you are my father. And I don’t think I can take it if you ever stop being that.”

His voice cracks as he responds. “Silly girl… you’re not being abandoned. I gave you my word, didn’t I? You’re my daughter, nothing changes that. Not now, not ever.”

“I’ll just… miss you,” she murmurs, “A little.”

“I’ll come to see you,” he says, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“And your cheesecakes. I’ll miss those too.”  she whispers, trying to make him smile.

He does. Barely. “Then I’ll bring them.”

She leans back just enough to look at him, her gaze searching his face. “You won’t leave me, right?”

He cups her face, places a trembling kiss on her forehead, and closes his eyes. “Never, beta. Not in this life… not in any lifetime.”

I watch the two of them, my throat tight. I know this won’t be easy. But at least she’ll be safe. And that’s all that matters now.

I swear, whoever’s behind this... they won’t just die. They’ll pay for every second of fear they made my family live through.

______________________________________________________________________________