AUTHOR'S POV

Saanvi opens the door and steps inside. Adrika, Abhiraj, Abhimaan, and Nishkarsh sitting near the bed turn their eyes toward her.

Her gaze falls on Rudra. He half sits on the hospital bed, leaning back against the pillows. His eyes leave Adrika, sweep past the others, and then lock on her.

Her heart pounds so hard it threatens to burst through her chest. Tears cloud her vision and she can barely breathe. "...Rudra."

He holds her eyes and takes a long, deliberate breath.

"Bro, your wife is ridiculously dumb," Kabir says with a short laugh from behind her. "I told her you forgot her, and she bought it. Even though I said you asked for her, she just bolted here without a thought."

"Let's leave them," Adrika says with a small laugh. The others rise from their seats without a word. Within moments they file out, and the door shuts softly behind them, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Saanvi wipes at her tears, then crosses the distance in quick strides. Her restraint breaks, and she throws herself into his arms.

Rudra leans back under the sudden weight but steadies himself in an instant. His arms close firmly around her. His hand moves across her back in slow, steady strokes, a silent reassurance that he is here, alive, and holding her just as tightly.

She leans back slightly without letting go, her arms still locked around him as she tilts her face to his. Her palms cradle his cheeks, her thumbs brushing against his skin with a tenderness. "Thank God," she murmurs.

His thumb brushes across her jawline. "One update, and again, I made an atheist remember God." His lips curve slightly as he brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "This time, I'm officially adding it to my premium skill set."

The sound of his voice only makes her tears spill faster. She presses a soft kiss to his left cheek and then rests her forehead against his.

His thumb moves across her face, brushing her tears away with care. "You're new to Indian traditions and culture, so let me teach you something," he says. "Kissing only one cheek is bad luck. They say the person could get bitten by a dog." He taps the other side of his face. "So, balance it here too."

Her lips tremble as she stares at him through wet lashes. Slowly, she leans in and kisses his right cheek as well, but the attempt to steady herself fails, and the moment breaks her. She collapses against him, sobbing harder.

Rudra's arms tighten around her, his lips pressing to her hair. "Pehle bata diya hota tumne ki ye sab karne par khudse gale lagogi, to ye kaam mein pehle hi kar leta," (If you had told me earlier that doing all this would make you throw yourself into my arms, I would have done it myself earlier) he teases softly, though the sound of her crying unsettles him almost instantly.

His eyes widen with unease, his hand stroking her back in panic. "Wait-no, don't cry. I'm sorry. I won't say that again," he blurts, holding her closer.

"I was terrified," she chokes out. "I missed you every single day, every single second. The doctors said you weren't responding, that you weren't even fighting. I thought I'd lose you." Her hands fist in the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles softly, though not unkindly and she pulls back just enough to glare at him through blurred eyes. "Fuck you, bastard."

"On a hospital bed?" he clicks his tongue, "That's a very strange kink, but if you insist, I-"

"Shut up!" she snaps, gasping between her tears. "You're making fun of me."

His expression softens. He cups her cheeks in both hands and presses a slow, gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm not making fun of you," he murmurs. "It's just...hearing you say you missed me, that you were scared for me... it feels unreal. Maybe that's why I laughed."

She pushes lightly on his shoulder. "You and all your friends are impossible. Especially Kabir. That fucker lied to me. I'm definitely killing him if I see him." Her hands tremble against his chest, and her tears spill freely. "He said you forgot me," she whispers, sniffling and wiping her red nose. "But... you actually remember me, right? You didn't call me that yet."

He frowns. "Didn't call you what?"

"You really forgot me, right?" Her voice cracks as tears gather again. "You call me that name?"

His eyes narrow for a moment, and then recognition sparks. A slow smile spreads across his face. "I remember you... Pearl."

A wide, relieved smile breaks on her lips, and she leans against his chest, resting her head there and holding him closer.

"You actually like that name?" he asks, weaving his fingers with hers.

"More than my own," she whispers softly.

He presses a gentle kiss to the back of her hand without letting go of her fingers.

"You really didn't forget me, right?" she asks again, tilting her head up to meet his eyes while still resting against his chest.

He chuckles softly. "Ask whatever you want."

She presses her lips together and then lifts her head slightly to look at him. "Tell me... how did we first meet?"

"I was shot that day, and you saved me," he answers simply.

"What did you do after I refused to treat you?" she asks and searches his face for an answer.

"I took ownership of the hospital."

She tilts her head and sniffs lightly. "And when I refused your proposal?"

He shrugs with a small cocky smile on his lips. "I manipulated your father and married you."

She exhales and lets a small laugh escape, relief washing over her. For a moment, she just watches him, then she moves closer, sits on his lap, and gently turns his face toward her. "I missed you,"

He wraps his arms around her, holding her firmly.

"Never ever, Rudra. I mean it. Never pull a stunt like that again." Her fingers run through his hair. "You matter to me more than you know. You are important, so important that I can't, I really can't, live without you. So please... stay with me. Always."

He nods slowly.

"Promise?" she asks, lifting her head just enough to meet his gaze.

"Promise," he says softly. She leans into him again, resting her head against his chest.

"So... together?" he murmurs, pressing his face into her neck.

She chuckles softly. "Yes... always. No matter what, we stay together."

A knock sounds at the door. A nurse steps inside with a tray of food and medicines. She pauses when her eyes fall on Saanvi curled against Rudra's lap, her arms wrapped tightly around him. Her mouth presses into a thin line, but she sets the tray on the side table.

"Ma'am, it's time for his dinner,"

Saanvi stays still, unwilling to let go. Rudra looks up at the nurse. "Thank you. You can leave it here. I'll manage."

The nurse nods, casts them a quick glance, and slips out, closing the door behind her.

Saanvi breathes out. "Thank you."

Rudra studies her face. "For what?"

Her eyes meet his. "For not pushing me away."

A smile touches his lips. "Pearl... I never even had the courage to imagine you choosing to stay with me. And now that you are, do you really think I'd ever let you go?"

Her chest tightens at the tenderness in his words. Without thinking, her hand drifts to his chest. She glances down, her fingers splayed across the steady rhythm beneath his shirt. He follows her touch with his eyes.

"You're smiling," he says softly, trying to read her. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Her lips curve. "Your heartbeat is fast again."

His brow lifts, and he shrugs as if it's nothing. "It always happens when you're around. Not exactly a mystery."

She shakes her head, not looking up, her fingers still spread over his chest. "You won't understand, Rudra."

What he doesn't see what she doesn't tell him is that this quickened rhythm has become her anchor. He can't know what it means for her, the way his racing heartbeat feels like proof of life itself. Especially after that one night when she thought it was slipping away, when she felt his pulse weaken in her hands and feared she'd never feel it again.

✿✿✿✿✿

• Aurangabad, Maharashtra •

"He's alive,"

"And what am I supposed to do with that, Saarth?"

Saarth rubs his forehead and leans back on the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Yashwant, for God's sake he is Rudra Singhania. He will tear you apart."

Yashwant's head turns slowly toward Roman. "Shut the hell up,"

Saarth lets out a bitter laugh. "I don't know why I let myself get dragged into this. It's been nineteen years. Just stop. What pride are you chasing for a single punch?"

Yashwant's mouth tightens. "It was not a punch. That bastard Anubhav humiliated me. He's had it coming. I will make him pay." He leans forward, "And his daughter," he adds, and the smile that follows is a cruel thing. "When Suhana died, I felt so empty I never got to have her in my bed, never got to taste her, never got to tear her down the way I wanted. But now... now I see her in Saanvi. That stubborn little cunt, that fire in her eyes, the softness in her curves... she's everything which Suhana had, and she'll complete what Suhana left unfinished. I'll make her feel me in ways her mother never could, break her body and her mind, force her to writhe under me, to belong to me in every filthy, violent way I desire."

"If you want to kill her, just do it." Saarth says staring at him. "But It's sick that you even think like that about a woman who's barely your daughter's age."

Yashwant chuckles. "Disgusting? That's just your weak conscience talking."

Roman scrolls his phone, shrugging. "You agreed to handle this, Saarth. You were paid, now don't act like you're innocent here."

Saarth lowers his gaze. "I agreed to threaten Rudra. My feud sits with Rudra, not Saanvi. That's why I signed up for threats and photo manipulation. But to be clear I will not stoop to rape or worse."

Yashwant tilts his head, letting the glass slide from his fingers. "Too bad," he murmurs, "You're my blood, Saarth. And blood obeys. Morals don't matter when survival or pleasure calls."

He rolls his eyes. "And I'll always regret that."

"You don't say that while taking cheques from me," Yashwant says, raising a brow.

Saarth shrugs. "Regret doesn't work like that. So, what's next? Who do we hit first Rudra or Saanvi?"

Roman pushes his phone down on the table with a sharp tap, exhaling. "Both are out of our league. You think we haven't tried to take Rudra down again? The hospital's security is insane. No one gets close to that hospital, let alone inside the ward."

Saarth swallows the alcohol in his glass and sets it down. "What do you expect from his friend? The one who handles their security." He closes his eyes for a moment, recalling the name, then opens them. "Kabir. Kabir Mehra. That bastard runs the best security firm in the whole country. Even the residence they live in? Built under his firm. We can't touch that." He glances at Roman. "And Saanvi?"

"Saanvi isn't an easy mark either." Roman says. "Bodyguards, the Singhania mansion, Kabir oversees every inch there too. Security tight enough to choke anyone who tries to get close. You'd need a miracle to reach her."

Yashwant sets his glass down, eyes fixed on it. "I gave her enough time. Warned her to leave. But that bitch had to play queen. I didn't want her dead this early... but maybe she's asking for it."

Saarth frowns. "You're serious? You actually mean you're going to kill her? Did you forget what you said yourself? We can't touch her while Rudra's around. That man's a psychopath. He'll drag anyone who touches her straight into hell. Think before you move."

Yashwant lifts his eyes slowly. "I don't give a damn. It's been over a year, I've given her chance after chance. Enough's enough. She needs to die."

Roman exhales, the sound carrying resignation. Saarth's lips press into a thin line. Both of them share a glance.

Yashwant shifts his gaze to Roman. "And the NVC? Any solid intel on their field agents?"

Roman exhales through his teeth, frustration flashing in his eyes. "Nothing beyond the names. That's all we've got."

Yashwant leans back, fingers steepled. "I want to meet them. See who they really are. Especially that Volkaris."

Saarth frowns, "Why him in particular?"

"Because I've already spoken to him over the phone," Yashwant says. "He bragged about NVC calling me SCAR because I always run. I want to see the look on his face when he meets me in person. I want to see if the myth matches the man."

Before anyone can respond, a knock interrupts the room. Yashwant lets out an impatient sigh and glances toward the door.

"Why are you so dumb, Latika?" he snaps as his eyes land on the tray she carries coffee cups neatly arranged, with a few snacks.

Latika lifts her eyes. "I'm sorry. The house help said you were here, so I brought it in."

He rises abruptly, "You brought it here to show yourself in front of these men, didn't you?"

Latika's eyes widen in disgust, snapping to his. Roman eyes her from head to toe, while Saarth glances away, focusing on his phone.

Suddenly, Yashwant grabs the coffee mug and hurls it at her. She screams as the hot liquid splashes across her chest and hands, a few drops landing on her face. The tray slips from her grasp, clattering to the floor. She presses her hands to her burning skin, tears mixing with pain, and looks up at him with fury. "You're a monster in human form. I hope you rot in hell."

In an instant, he yanks her hair harshly. "Do you realize I picked you from among all those women? Otherwise, you would have been sold. I gave you a home, safety and you have the audacity to fight me?"

She shakes her head, snorting through her tears. "Aren't you the leader of that entire trafficking operation? And Safety? You call forcing yourself on me every night, beating me when I say no, handing me over to your friends to abuse me safety?" She spits the words at him. "And on top of that, you sleep around while being married to me. So yes, I have the audacity to call you out."

"You're beautiful, Latika. But you're only worth anything to me when you stay quiet." His grip tightens on her jaw, making her cry out in pain.

"Maa!"

In the blink of an eye, Latika breaks free from Yashwant's grip.

"Tapish..." she whispers through tears as he steps in front of her, placing himself between her and Yashwant.

Yashwant exhales slowly, an expression of bored disdain on his face. "Ah... mama's boy finally shows up."

"Don't touch my mother," Tapish says despite the tremor in his body.

Yashwant chuckles. "You're twenty four, Tapish. Still nothing to your name. Your whole life depends on me. And now you're threatening me? Don't make me take it away too." He turns, striding away with Roman at his side.

Latika clings to her son's shirt, tears slipping freely down her cheeks. Tapish holds her gently, rocking her slightly. "It's okay, Maa. Calm down," he murmurs. She buries her face against his chest, trying to find some fragment of safety in his arms.

Saarth stands, straightening his blazer, and grabs his car keys from the table. "What a fragile man," he mutters, moving toward the door.

"Man enough to protect his mother, unlike a bastard who licks the shoes of the man who abandoned his own mother." Tapish shots back.

Saarth's teeth grit. He stops mid step, turning to look at Tapish, then at Latika in his arms. "I am smart enough not to mess with that man. And who am I supposed to do it for? My dead mother? I do not even remember her face. I could care less what he did to her, but at least my pockets are full," Saarth says with a scoff, and walks out.

✿✿✿✿✿

• After Three Days •

| At Singhania Mansion |

"Is something wrong?" Rudra asks, setting his spoon down on the edge of the bowl and turning toward her.

Saanvi sits beside him at the dining table, her chin propped on her hand, her gaze fixed on him with a smile she doesn't bother hiding. She shakes her head but doesn't look away.

"Then why are you staring at me like that?" he presses.

Her eyes soften as they travel over his face. "Because you look too beautiful tonight. I can't seem to take my eyes off you."

He blinks at her bluntness, his foot curls under the table as he draws in a quiet breath. Clearing his throat, he drops his gaze back to the bowl in front of him. He picks up the spoon again, pretending to be unfazed. "Thank you for making this. I've missed it,"

When he finishes, he turns back to her and she notices a trace of broth at the corner of his mouth. Leaning in, she brushes her thumb over his lips before he can react. His body freezes in surprise.

"You didn't have to," he starts, fumbling for composure. "I could've just used a tissue-"

The words trail off when he sees her slip her thumb past her lips, tasting it without hesitation. His mouth parts, then shuts again as color spreads across his cheeks. He turns his face away, flustered in a way he rarely allows himself to be.

"It was actually tasty," she says with a small, satisfied smile, dabbing her thumb with a tissue. "Let's go to sleep."

He grabs the glass of water at his side, draining it in one go as though he needs the distraction. Rising from his chair, he nods. "Yeah."

She pushes her own chair back and joins him. Together, they make their way to his room. Once inside, she closes the door behind them.

"Take off your shirt. I need to apply the medicine," Saanvi says as she steps toward him.

He freezes, the easy yawn vanishes instantly. "I'll manage it."

Her brows knit. "Rudra, I said I'll do it." She reaches up, fingers brushing the first button of his shirt, but he steps back quickly, avoiding her touch.

"No. I said I'll manage," he insists, his gaze darting anywhere but at her.

She tilts her head, watching him closely. "Strange. You used to show off your abs and biceps like a showpiece when we first moved into the penthouse after our marriage. Now you're suddenly-"

"Maybe I've changed. Maybe I like being shy now," he interrupts with a half hearted shrug. He snatches the medicine tube from the table and retreats into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

She stands still for a moment. "Is he hiding something from me?"

He returns wiping his face with a towel, looking freshly composed. She was half reclined on the bed, scrolling through her phone, though her eyes lift to him the second he walked out. Without a word, he tosses the towel aside and lies down next to her. She sets her phone and immediately curls into him, resting her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, sliding his arm around her waist.

She shifts slightly to look up at him. "Why?"

"I was rude to you earlier." His fingers toy absently with her hair.

She lets out a soft laugh. "You think that was rude?"

He nods. "Something in me felt... wrong for saying it. Like I hurt you without meaning to."

She studies him for a beat, then smiles in quiet awe. "You surprise me sometimes, Rudra. You don't even realize how disarming you are when you talk like this."

He chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You should go to sleep. It's late."

She frowns. "Go where?"

"To your room?" he suggests.

"No. I'm not leaving. I'll sleep here with you." She rests her head back on his chest as though the matter is settled.

"You always-"

"I know you used to sneak into my room every night and sleep beside me,"

His jaw dropped. "How do you even know that? You were always asleep."

"I read your journal."

His eyes shut and he exhales a long breath. "I'm sorry-"

"Rudra." She says his name gently, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. She shifts higher on the bed, so her face is level with his. "Don't be sorry. I craved that closeness. You're the reason I sleep peacefully. Your arms... they've always been home. And for months, I felt homeless without them. Let me have that back." Her hand cups his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin.

He swallows, staring at her realising how she's unraveling him word by word. His heartbeat kicks harder, and his lips part as if to speak, but no words follow.

"I know, Rudra," she whispers, leaning closer, her lips grazing along his jaw before pausing. Her palm slides to his chest, resting over the thundering rhythm beneath. "Your actions already tell me more than words ever could. You don't need to explain."

His eyes shut tight as he breathes in deeply. "You don't understand what you're doing to me,"

"Silly me," she whispers and smiles. "Then show me."

He opens his eyes, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His eyes flicks between her eyes and her lips. Slowly, achingly slow, he leans in and stops just an inch away, their breaths mingle in the stillness.

His thumb grazes her lips, staying there for a few seconds. Then, slowly, he lifts his thumb toward his lips, chasing an indirect kiss, a way to touch her without quite crossing the line.

Before he can press it to his lips, she catches his hand and guides it to her chest pressing it firmly over her racing heartbeat.

His gaze locks on hers, and for a moment, nothing else exists but the shared rhythm of two hearts pounding in sync.

She leans in and presses her lips to his. The instant they meet, both their eyes flutter shut as if in perfect sync. His free hand cups her cheek, urging her closer, and the kiss deepens. She grazes his bottom lip between hers with gentle care, tasting him softly, and a quiet shiver passes through him at the warmth of it. He responds with equal delicacy, his lips molding to hers. It isn't just a kiss, it is her telling him she missed him, him telling her he needs her, and both of them finding home in the quiet press of each other's lips.

When they finally part, they open their eyes slowly, meeting each other's gaze.

"See? That wasn't so hard," she murmurs with a teasing softness. "But you, Mr. Wannabe Gentleman, always makes me wait. On our anniversary, I kept hoping you would finally kiss me first, but you-"

Her words dissolve as he suddenly shifts, hovering over her before capturing her mouth again. His kiss is firmer this time, hungry yet restrained, and she smiles against his lips before wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He tilts her head slightly, deepening the kiss, tasting her with quiet urgency.

His tongue brushes past her lips, tasting her with cautious boldness. Startled, she taps his shoulder, and he pulls back at once. "Too much?"

She shakes her head with a nervous smile. "I've never... I don't know how to...french kiss."

A low laugh escapes him, and the sound makes her heart skip. She looks at him, half embarrassed, half drawn in, her blush deepens under his gaze. He strokes his thumb across her forehead with surprising tenderness. "Then leave it to me. I'll teach you."

Her lips curve into a small pout as she tilts her face up expectantly to be kissed. He chuckles again and leans down, brushing his lips over hers. His tongue finds its way back into the kiss, coaxing her gently. She closes her eyes, letting him in, and feels the slow sweep of him exploring her mouth. Tentatively, she answers back, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He doesn't fight for control but eases back to let her explore, letting her set the pace, though his hand tightens slightly at her waist when he resumes kissing her with more passion.

They finally pull back, a soft, wet pop marking the end of the kiss. Their foreheads press together, and their chests rise and fall in sync as they try to catch their breath.

"Looks like your books prepared you well... but in practice, I think you nailed it even better." he murmurs, his lips brushing against her temple.

She laughs softly. "Maybe a little... but now I know I have the best teacher. And next time, you should teach me the rest of the syllabus."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from her face and lies down beside her, and she immediately turns to face him. They fold into each other easily, his arms wrapped around her, his legs tangling with hers.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Good night, Pearl."

Her lips brush his in a quick, sweet peck before she nuzzles closer to him. "Good night."

______________________________________________________________________________

Daily journal. (day 78)

All my life, I had hobbies, riding bikes, taking trips. But whenever mom asked me what my dream was, I couldn't answer. My mind stayed silent. I didn't know what a dream even meant.

Then I saw you, staring at the night sky, lost in the lights of the city. That's when I understood. A dream isn't just something you want. It's something you ache for, something you need to breathe, even when the world tells you it will never be yours. You chase it anyway, even when it hurts, even when your heart breaks along the way.

And that day, I found my dream.

My dream is to be loved by Dr. Saanvi Malhotra.

Because oh, Pearl... to be loved by you, it feels like the kind of thing men write poetry about and die still yearning for. It's the only thing my mind has ever screamed for. But I know it's impossible. I don't ask for it. Not after what I've done. Not after the ways I've hurt you. Your hatred is enough to keep me alive, Pearl.

Because even in hate, there's honesty. And in honesty, I will always see you.