AUTHOR'S POV

"Seduce her."

Rudra stares at Kabir, who just dropped that tactical obscenity. He glances quickly at Saanvi, who is inspecting the dusty corner of the room, then snaps his attention back to the team.

"Here? Right now?" Rudra asks confused and in disbelief.

"Well, where the hell else are you planning to do it? Your private bedroom?" Kabir deadpans.

Avyaan and Abhimaan exchange looks of sheer bewilderment.

"Of course not here," Rudra says, lowering his eyes shyly. "How could I possibly seduce my wife in front of all you nosy bastards? It's completely inappropriate."

Kabir stares at him in utter disbelief. "Abey bewde, teri biwi ko nahi, us ladki ko." He points his thumb over his shoulder toward the window.

(Not your wife, that girl.)

Rudra processes the actual meaning, and his face instantly hardens. He takes a deep, ominous breath, walks straight up to Kabir, grabs his collar, and slams a punch right next to his head. "Saale, tu bhaang chadha ke aaya hai kya mission pe?" he scoffs.

(You idiot, did you come to the mission high on weed?)

"A... Abhimaan!" Kabir stammers, his eyes wide with fear, appealing to their neutral party.

Abhimaan immediately yanks the two men apart with a fierce glare. Saanvi watches the entire pathetic scuffle from her corner, her look pure, condensed judgment.

"Why do you two constantly try to assault each other?" Abhimaan scoffs, utterly worn out by their relationship.

"Look what the fucking idiot is suggesting!" Rudra mutters, gritting his teeth, glaring at Kabir, who is half sheltered behind Abhimaan. "How dare he propose such disrespectful things?"

"Okay, calm down your damn asses," Avyaan says, rubbing his temples.

Kabir scoffs, adjusting his collar and pushing off Abhimaan. "Don't forget, you used to seduce women for mission entry many times! Now suddenly it's a moral crisis?"

Rudra glares. "That was before I fell in love with Saanvi."

"So, you get a ring and suddenly your dick retires? Is that it?" Kabir sneers.

"Yes," Rudra deadpans. "Marriage is more than enough reason for me to keep my hands to myself. But the number one reason is that I love my wife. That single fact holds everything. One, I love a woman, and two, that woman is my wife, which means I'm fucking married! Now, find some other fucking way to get this done."

"I don't want to offend you, Rudra," Avyaan starts, trying to be objective. "But based on your well documented history as a corporate fuckboy, none of us expected this sudden, fierce loyalty."

Rudra looks genuinely insulted.

"Yeah," Kabir snorts, ducking a retaliatory swipe from Rudra. "I honestly thought you would have cheated within the first forty eight hours just out of habit."

"I would have broken his legs if he had," Abhimaan says flatly, shrugging. "Okay, now back to the goddamn topic."

They all stare at Rudra with intense, focused concentration.

Rudra frowns, defensive. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"Only you have the skill set for this," Abhimaan insists. "Relax, you just need to distract her for a few seconds. And inject this sedative into her neck." He holds out his palm. Kabir quickly gives him a pre filled syringe, which Abhimaan offers to Rudra.

"Fuck all of you. I am absolutely not doing this." Rudra scoffs, pushing the syringe away.

"Why are you so terrified of your wife, dude?" Kabir asks. "She'd probably only break a few non essential bones, maximum."

"As she bloody well should!" Rudra retorts. "Because I would have killed the man if she dared to look. How the hell can I expect her to stay calm seeing me lay the moves on some random girl?"

"But no one else in this team has your specific experience," Kabir pleads, gesturing wildly. "You're the experienced one! You've bought us time before! Remember that mission before you married Doctor? You seduced that woman-"

"Shut up!" Rudra snaps and rubs his hands over his face in deep frustration. "I'm the only married guy here! You three are single, available, and equally useless! One of you do it!"

Kabir lets out a loud, scornful laugh of disbelief. "Pagal hai kya? Dekh inhe tu ek bar. (Are you crazy? Just look at them once.)" He grabs Rudra's jaw and forces him to look at Abhimaan. "This man is soon to be the King of Rajasthan. This kind of vulgar behavior is not appropriate for a king."

Rudra shoves Kabir's hand away and turns to Avyaan.

Avyaan glares instantly. "Don't even think about suggesting it."

"Of course we wouldn't dare, Avyaan," Kabir tilts his head with a sarcastic smile looking at Avyaan then looks back at Rudra. "Isko kyu dekh raha tu pagal? Ye to khud swayam seva karke apna guzara kar raha.

(Why are you looking at him, you idiot? He's been relying on self service to get by.)

Abhimaan shakes his head, utterly done with the entire team. Avyaan simply looks away, refusing to engage.

"Try to understand Rudra, the moment Avyaan opens his mouth, he'll pass a misogynistic statement instead of a pick up line. That woman will get offended, raise the alarm, and we're all completely fucked." Kabir explains, sealing Rudra's fate.

"And what about you?" Rudra raises his brow. "You're single. You can go charm her, too."

Kabir freezes mid smirk, glancing frantically between the silent, judging faces of Avyaan, Abhimaan, and Rudra. He offers a weak, defensive side smile. "Me? You want me to seduce her?"

"Yes." Rudra replies flatly.

"Impossible. I'm way above her league." Kabir says, shrugging with excessive confidence. "I'm a luxury item, Rudra. She'd pass out from the shock of my superior genes."

Avyaan looks Kabir up and down, his stare completely devoid of emotion. "As much as I fundamentally disagree with the entire female species on most things, I still believe their standards aren't so tragically poor that they'd choose you."

Kabir stares at Avyaan, deeply offended. "Fuck you, Avyaan. That was unnecessarily personal."

"Find someone else to fuck." Avyaan retorts, unbothered by the curse.

"Rudra. Go," Abhimaan cuts in, ignoring the squabbling completely.

"She's a woman," Rudra argues, his eyes fixed on the guard outside. "Not every woman loses control over her hormones. They know how to control themselves. They are not men."

"Hoti hai bhai, hoti hai." Kabir insists, leaning in with a wild, evangelical intensity. "Ab ladkiyan bhi jism ki bhookhi hoti hai. Tu Instagram nahi dekhta kya? You need to read the comments on those half naked male fitness reels! Teen chaar baar to meine Vedant ki girlfriend ke comment dekha tha esi reels par." He beams, proud of his research.

(They are, bro, they are. Now girls are thirsty for bodies too. Don't you check Instagram. You need to read the comments on those half naked male fitness reels! I even saw Vedant's girlfriend comment on three or four of them last week.)

"What kind of disgusting nonsense is that?" Abhimaan says, genuinely horrified.

"Shut up, Abhimaan! This is called woman empowerment!" Kabir snaps, throwing his hands up. "It's fine when men do it, so we need to normalize it for women. They're human too. They get body thirsty and need to see a shirtless gym dude or oiled up male stripper cop, it's not wrong. I support this. Every woman has the right to be thirsty for a man's body. That's equality, you judgmental pricks!"

He paused, then stabbed a finger at Rudra's chest. "And you, you smug bastard, check your own damn Instagram posts. Your comments section is a designated thirst zone."

Rudra just stares near the glass panel, running out of legitimate excuses.

"Now trust your charisma, trust your face, and let's go." Kabir grabs Rudra's wrist, pulling him.

Rudra's heart hammers against his ribs, a frantic, desperate drumbeat. They all stop near Saanvi. Rudra looks at her, visibly gulping.

"Jacket off, stud." Kabir says, but impatient, he reaches out and starts stripping Rudra of his black leather jacket himself.

"Are you going somewhere?" Saanvi asks, confused, watching Kabir ruthlessly removing Rudra's holster, harness belt, and earpiece.

"To suffer eternal damnation," Rudra replies, his eyes fixed on Saanvi.

She frowns. "What?"

"Nothing!" Kabir snaps, shoving the jacket back onto Rudra, who awkwardly pulls it on. Rudra accepts the sedative syringe from Abhimaan and turns toward Saanvi. He cups her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin. She scrunches her nose up at his weird intensity.

"You have my full permission to murder me when this is over," he says, then pecks her lips.

Kabir gags loudly at the inappropriate public display. Avyaan remains focused, laser eyed on the guard outside the chamber.

"Now you're being a dramatic bitch. Get your fucking ass out there, Rudra." Abhimaan grits out, completely out of patience.

Rudra takes a huge, performative breath, adjusts his jacket one last time, and walks toward the door, shoulders slumped.

"Where the fuck is he going alone?" Saanvi says, frowning, and starts to follow. Kabir immediately blocks her path, planting himself directly in front of her. She looks at him, confused, and he swallows convulsively, visibly sweating.

"Kabir, why is Rudra going alon-"

"Tedhe mehde bhi acche lagte hai khane mein hai na? Pink colour ke packet mein ate hai, panch wale bhi ate hai, das wale bhi ate hai-" he blabbers.

(Tedhe Medhe tastes good, don’t they? They come in those pink packets, you get the five rupee ones and the ten rupee ones too-)

Suddenly, Saanvi shoves him hard aside and walks to the glass where Abhimaan and Avyaan are standing, staring out.

The woman, standing rigidly near the Archive Chamber door, senses a presence behind her. She whirls around, her hand instinctively going to her waistband to pull out a gun, her eyes narrowed and fixed on Rudra. She is just about to press the alarm fixed to her device.

"Don't look so stressed, sweetheart," Rudra says, tilting his head and walking toward her with a deliberate, slow stride.

She frowns, aiming the weapon squarely at his chest. "Who are you, and how did you enter this sector?"

He passes her a small utterly disarming smile and stops right in front of her. "I'm new, actually. Just hired by the executive team." He lies smoothly, staring into her eyes.

She raises a skeptical brow, scanning him from his jacket to his polished boots. "I received no file on a new recruit. You are lying."

"Yes, I am," he says, stepping infinitesimally closer, placing his hands flat on the cold wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her.

She looks up at him, tilting her head and puts her gun back.

He traces his finger lightly down her cheek. "If a goddess with eyes like yours says I'm lying," he whispers, leaning closer, near her ear, "then I'm happy to be a liar, sweetheart." His left hand subtly slips into his jacket pocket, retrieving the sedative syringe.

"Wife's claim," she says and he slightly freezes, pulling back enough to see her eyes fixed on the red lipstick tattoo visible above his collar bone. "You are married," she says again, stating a fact.

"I was," he says, leaning back slightly, cultivating the image of a man nursing a fresh, grievous wound. "But then my wife, God bless her soul, realized she was far too normal for me and left me for some other man. Someone... safer."

He says and risks a glance toward the utility room glass. He sees Saanvi glaring at him, her face promising a slow, painful death. He immediately looks away, his inner self screaming and weeping for his inevitable death later.

"Doctor! Don't! We will be caught!" Kabir says hysterically, wrestling Saanvi back from the door. "Hold still, you maniac!"

"What the actual fuck did he just say? I fell out of love?" She grits out, scoffing violently, having heard Rudra's voice clearly through the comms. "That fucker is literally trying to get laid and saying I left him for someone 'safer'? I'm going to personally shove that sedative up his ass!"

Kabir slams his palm over her mouth. "Shut up! Shut up!" he murmurs, nearly crying from panic. "Don't scream! Please, just murder him after the mission! Don't scream, for the love of God!"

"I hope the other man was worth it," the woman says, drawing Rudra's attention back. She wraps her arms slowly around his neck, her lips curving into a smile. "Because I wouldn't have left you, even if I was completely over you. I'd keep you for the view."

He manages a slight, terrified smile.

"You're sweating," she observes. "Are you okay?" She lets her hands roam down his chest. She starts to lean in for a kiss. His soul nearly exits his body in sheer terror. He immediately turns his face to the side, making her lips land awkwardly on his cheek.

"What are you doing?" she frowns in confusion.

He shrugs, nodding toward the enormous vertical pillar in front of the chamber. "That pillar. It's truly magnificent. The sheer load bearing capacity must be staggering. They don't build infrastructure like they used to, do they?" He blabbers incoherently about architecture.

"You suddenly don't seem very interested," she says, her annoyance returning.

He looks back at her and leans close to her ear. "Believe me, my eyes are all on you." His eyes momentarily flicks to the Archive door behind her. He continues talking to her, taking out the sedative discreetly and placing his palm flat beside her neck, the syringe hidden.

"Was she ugly?" she asks suddenly. Rudra stops.

"Who?" he asks, confused.

"Your ex wife."

He scoffs, offended. "Ugly? Are you kidding me? You would fall for her too if you looked at her. She's so beautiful, she could literally make you lose your vision. She's gorgeous enough to be a whole fucking natural disaster."

She looks at him, utterly bored now. "You're talking about your so called beautiful ex wife while trying to flirt with me?"

He realizes his tactical error, but uses the pause perfectly. His other hand drops to her waist, landing just above the security device. "I'm sorry if I offended you," he whispers.

She stares at him, her hand placed firmly on his chest. She closes her eyes, anticipating.

He slams his palm against her neck, driving the needle home and injecting the sedative quickly and violently.

Her eyes widen. He throws the empty syringe away and immediately clamps his palm over her mouth, pinning both her wrist and her body to stop her from reaching the alarm device.

She struggles for a few seconds, her eyes heavy, before the sedative drags her down. Rudra releases her, letting her slump unconscious to the floor.

"Let's go," Avyaan signs to Abhimaan, moving instantly out of the room.

Rudra efficiently removes the biometric access device from the unconscious woman's waistband.

He slaps the device into Kabir's waiting hand.

Kabir, Avyaan, and Abhimaan step up to the vault door, Kabir immediately cursing as he tries to interface the device with the complex lock system.

Rudra sighs deeply, already drained, and turns around. He nearly falls back, clutching his chest, seeing Saanvi standing in front of him. Her eyes are enough to suggest that the ground should open up and swallow him whole.

"So you're perfectly happy to be called a liar, as long as this 'goddess' calls you one?" She points a scathing finger at the sedated woman lying on the floor. "And funny enough, you also managed to spend a solid five minutes eye fucking her while detailing the tragic end of our marriage." She raises an accusatory brow.

Rudra involuntarily steps back, his hands hovering near his face in genuine terror.

She yanks his hair, pulling his face down close to hers. "If I ever, Rudra, ever," she grits out near his mouth, "see you or hear you even breathing in the vicinity of another woman, I'll personally pluck those fucking eyeballs."

He nods swallowing convulsively.

"Words." She grits.

"Understood." he swallows.

She releases him with a sharp yank, and he stumbles backward, completely destabilized.

After a few frantic minutes, Kabir steps out of the Archive Chamber, followed by Abhimaan and Avyaan.

"Let's go." Abhimaan says. "They'll figure out the camera loop delay any second now." Everyone nods grimly.

"The proofs?" Saanvi asks.

Kabir pats his jacket pocket with unnecessary gusto. "It's all here. Encrypted, compressed, and tucked away, Doctor. Stop worrying about my competence."

"We will execute Escape Route Delta, as planned." Avyaan commands, handing Rudra his gear back. Rudra straps his harness back on, retrieves his weapon, and puts his jacket on.

Rudra reaches for Saanvi's hand, attempting to pull her close and guide her, but Saanvi sharply yanks her hand away and walks pointedly to Avyaan.

"I'm coming with you." She says.

Rudra's jaw drops, betrayed. "Excuse me?"

"I am not taking you with me-Shit!" Avyaan curses as the high pitched, insistent alarm starts shrieking. Avyaan grabs Saanvi and pulls her sharply into a dead run toward their planned exit. Abhimaan is right behind them, while Kabir grabs Rudra and pulls him in the opposite direction, while Rudra still throws one last sulking look back at Saanvi.

"Pull your fucking mask on!" Abhimaan's voice cuts through the chaos on their earpieces.

They all quickly put their black tactical masks.

"Stay behind me," Avyaan instructs, peering around a corner where a heavy group of guards is patrolling in alert formation.

She scoffs under her breath. "Even in this situation, you are still being a misogynistic ass. Why the fuck would I stay behind you?"

Avyaan whips his head back at her, his eyes incredulous behind the mask. He shoves Saanvi hard out directly in front of him. "Fine, Miss Moral High Ground! Here you are, right in front. Now go fight them, since you're so opposed to being protected!"

Her eyes widen instantly, and she gulps at the sight of the approaching guards. "Are you insane? How am I supposed to-"

"There she is!" A guard yells, pointing directly at her exposed form.

Her voice sticks, trapped in her throat.

Suddenly, Avyaan pulls her back behind him with bruising force, just as the guard lunges. Avyaan slams a hard punch into the man's temporal bone, dropping him like a sack of rocks.

His cold, blue eyes meet the advancing guards.

The guards charge in unison.

Saanvi watches, tense, wondering how he will handle the brute force alone.

Avyaan's hands move with clean, specialized efficiency, he targets vulnerable points, solar plexus, throat, kidneys. He drops three men instantly. He drops four men instantly with precision strikes.

Saanvi stares at him in shock.

He pulls out a thin, wicked pocket knife and silently stabs one guard in the thigh, immobilizing him, and then delivers another bone shattering punch.

He breathes hard, his chest heaving, glancing at the groaning men on the floor.

"Move! Fast!" he says. Saanvi immediately follows, casting a last, horrified glance at the injured guards.

"You actually fight well," she says while running.

He stops abruptly, checks left and right, then pulls her violently into a darkened maintenance path to the right.

"Avyaan-"

He whirls back, stopping her. His blue eyes pierce her.

"Stop calling me Avyaan. They can't know my name. Either shut up entirely, or use the code name."

He says, and starts running again, pulling her along.

"Okay, Mr. Zyren" she says, panting heavily as she struggles to keep up.

They skid to a halt in front of an old, heavy service elevator, located deep in a rarely used sector of the Hexcell.

Rudra, Kabir, and Abhimaan arrive moments later, converging from different paths. Rudra immediately stops in front of Saanvi and lifts his hand to reach for her.

She steps away from him, moving pointedly to stand beside Kabir, who is slamming the elevator button.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"We'll be rappelling down the rock face." Kabir says, impatient, watching the door.

"We are on a rock?" Saanvi looks around, surprised.

The old elevator doors shudder and open.

"They're here! Get inside, now!" Abhimaan yells.

Saanvi looks back and sees a guard, alerted by the noise, reaching the doorway just behind Rudra.

"Rudra!" she screams, but Abhimaan pulls her forcefully into the elevator.

"Abhimaan! Rudra is-" She stops as she looks back. Rudra instantly grabs the man's wrist, using the guard's own momentum, and slams his forearm down hard on the guard's elbow.

The man screams, the sound choked and agonizing.

Saanvi watches the guard fall, his arm clearly dislocated and bent upward, crying and groaning in unimaginable pain. Her body shakes in sudden, profound terror.

Rudra pulls out his silenced gun.

"He's killing him," she whispers, horrified.

"You yelled Abhimaan's and Rudra's names, and we cannot risk leaving any live witnesses to compromise our identities." Avyaan says blankly, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Rudra shoves the gun deep into the man's mouth and pulls the trigger.

She flinches, recoiling from the brutal finality of the execution.

Rudra pockets his gun and steps into the elevator. Kabir immediately slams the door shut just as the distant sounds of more gunfire and alarms flood the hall.

They finally burst out of the maintenance tunnel, finding the two waiting black SUVs and a sport bike parked in the shadows.

"Abhimaan, Saanvi you two are in the lead vehicle, Extraction Delta One," Avyaan instructs, pointing to the first black vehicle. "Kabir and I take the second, Delta Two. And Rudra..." he stops, looking at him.

Rudra nods curtly.

Saanvi frowns in confusion. "You aren't coming in a car?" she asks Rudra.

"He's taking the bike," Kabir says, yanking open the car door and glancing quickly at Saanvi. "Rudra's going in alone as a distraction. He'll draw the pursuit cars so we can escape with the data core safely. The fastest route to the private jet's hangar gets incredibly congested, it's too tight for three cars, so the bike gives him the speed and mobility to lose them and meet us there." Kabir slides into the passenger seat. Avyaan is already starting the engine.

"Saanvi, hurry up! They're not going to stop." Abhimaan says, settling into his driver's seat.

She looks at Rudra, who is swinging a leg over his bike.

She throws a sharp look at Abhimaan, then walks past the SUV straight to Rudra, and sits down firmly behind him.

He looks back at her, confusion warring with adrenaline.

"Saanvi, what the fuck are you doing?!" Abhimaan snaps, starting the engine and spotting the headlights of the pursuit vehicles in the distance. "Get inside the car, now!"

"Get inside the fucking car! This is not safe!" Rudra roars, his tone laced with raw panic for her safety.

"I'm not leaving the bait alone," she says, clutching his jacket fiercely.

Rudra closes his eyes for a tense beat, frustration and resignation battling in his face, as the headlights grow closer.

"Abhimaan, Kabir, go." he orders through his comms.

They sigh, exchange a single glance, swerve the cars out, and speed off immediately.

Rudra didn't waste any more time arguing. He leaned sharply to the left and hooked his gloved hand behind her waist. With a swift, powerful yank, he pulled her off the back seat and swung her forward and upward. She gasped loudly as she was suddenly seated on the tank, facing him directly, her legs adjusted to straddle his hips, her chest flush against his.

She looks up at his cold, blank sepia eyes, his face still covered by the tactical mask.

He pulls her tightly against him and revs the engine. "You are the most stubborn, infuriating, suicidal woman, I swear," he grits out over the engine noise. "Now, hold me tight."

He snaps the accelerator wide open, and the bike leaps forward, forcing her to hug him fiercely.

He glances in the mirror, seeing the pursuing cars closing rapidly. They immediately open fire.

Rudra moves the bike violently, zigzagging to evade the shots, using the bike's low profile.

Saanvi glances back at the hostile car. She reaches into Rudra's holster, pulls out his gun, loads it in a swift, practiced motion, and starts firing over his shoulder.

"Careful." he says.

She pulls out her own gun too from her waistband, loads it, and while maintaining the straddle position, lifts both arms, aiming precisely at the nearest pursuit car.

A shot hits the rear of the bike.

"Fuck! Rudra, they hit the tire!" Saanvi says, tense.

"Don't worry. They're aramid reinforced run flats. They'll hold for now," he says, speeding up, seeing the main highway access ahead, realizing they're now in the city grid.

Saanvi looks at the lead pursuit car. She aims, targeting the front left tire, but Rudra swerves slightly to avoid debris, throwing her aim off balance. She curses, re aims, and fires three quick, precise shots into the tire, causing the car to imbalance and slam into a freeway barrier. Civilians nearby panic, scattering.

She aims for the second car and shoots, but the angle is wrong, making her curse again. Suddenly, Rudra cuts the bike sharply, throwing them into a dangerously narrow alley.

He speeds through the confined space. Due to the limited turning radius and vehicular width, the cars are unable to follow, losing them instantly.

She breathes heavily, lowering her guns.

"I knew my training for distraction would pay off." he murmurs near her ear.

Her mind flickers back to that so-called "training," the one that had been more about pushing boundaries than learning tactics. Leaning back slightly, she can feel his reluctant, arrogant smirk. His hand tightens possessively on her waist, pulling her closer.

He takes a sweeping turn, leaning the bike low at high speed.

"Can you ease off the accelerator, just slightly?" she says.

He immediately increases the speed, the bike howling. She clutches him harder, her arms squeezing him.

Then he feels a sudden, sharp, agonizing bite just above his collar bone.

His free hand instantly hooks onto her nape, and he pulls her head back to meet his masked face, the bike still screaming through the alley.

"That's a really dangerous time to fulfill your aggressive marking fetish, Pearl."

She stares at the red, raw teeth marks she left on his neck.

"Oh please, you should be grateful I only left teeth marks and not bullet holes." She replies, locking her arms, still holding both guns, firmly around his neck.

SAANVI'S POV

• India | At NVC •

I feel my eyes heavy as I open them and sit up. I'm on a plush leather couch, a black leather jacket draped over me. I recognize it instantly, it's Rudra's.

I remember falling asleep on his lap during the private jet ride.

Standing, I walk out into the central briefing room. It's high tech, minimalist, and cold. Kabir is slouched at a massive mahogany table, staring at his phone.

"Well, look who decided to join the living," he says without looking away from the screen.

I step forward and take a chair beside him.

"Feeling good? You passed out pretty hard," he asks, turning his head. I give a nod.

"I heard from Rudra you managed to shoot down a pursuit car. All thanks to my foundational training, of course."

"What a self obsessed, delusional bastard," I murmur, rolling my eyes as I rub the sleep from my face.

He shrugs, unbazed.

"By the way, you were actually pretty good at that," I admit grudgingly.

"At fighting?" He chuckles, adjusting his collar with his usual misplaced confidence. "Of course I am."

I shake my head. "I was talking about the teaching aspect, you idiot. Your instructions were clear, concise. It sounds like you actually dedicated time to training someone before this."

"Maybe," he says with a chuckle.

My attention immediately locks onto the entrance. Rudra walks in, accompanied by Mr. Wilson, Avyaan, and a high ranking officer in a pressed uniform. They head straight toward the vision board. Rudra's face is set in a serious, frustrated mask as he reviews the complex graphics. My gaze crawls all over him.

He's wearing a tight fit black T shirt beneath his tactical gear, black pants, the shoulder harness still cinched, the holster riding low near his hip. His black boots tap a soft rhythm on the polished floor. He runs a gloved thumb across his eyebrow, a sign of deep, frustrating concentration.

He looks utterly dominant right now. The sheer amount of unholy, violently possessive thoughts surging through my head should be illegal.

"Great view, right?"

I nod, staring at my husband being sexually attractive as fuck. Wait-who the hell said that out loud?

I whip my head to the side. Kabir is staring too, his eyes fixed on Rudra's back.

"Move your eyes away from him, you perverted creep," I scoff, digging an elbow into his ribs.

He looks at me, utterly unapologetic. "I'm simply appreciating a masterpiece of male physique, Doctor. Why are you getting so territorial? Don't you have that safe, boring 'Neil' guy to worry about?"

I look at him in disbelief. "Neil? How much weed do you actually consume in a day?"

He shrugs easily. "I heard rumors, but I wasn't really buying it. Because how the hell could any woman possibly look at another man when that exists?" he asks, his gaze drifting back to Rudra, holding genuine awe.

I close his eyes with my palms. "That is my husband. Keep your eyes off him, or I will literally gouge them out."

He pulls my hand away from his face. "I will not. He's my friend too, and we share ownership of his aesthetic appeal." He argues with baffling logic.

I scoff slapping his forearms and then look back at Rudra.

I swallow, a raw, deep tension coiling in my gut. My hands are itching, no, they're burning to grab that dark hair, slam his spine flat against that table, hike my legs over the mahogany, and take him right here, right now. I want to ruin his control. I want to feel him against the cold, hard wood. I am absolutely, immediately horny.

This man has become my addiction. His arrogance, his command, his dominance, the violence he holds, doesn't scare me, it makes me crave him. If he asked me to submit, to obey him in some dark way, I know I would do it without a word.

Hell, if he asked me to get on my knees and bark, I probably fucking would.

I remember how much I loathed him the resentment and the rage. I hated his face, his entitled actions, everything. And now? I am obsessed with this man. How time warps everything into this dangerous attraction.

"Pearl..."

I snap out of my thoughts, realizing I was staring so deeply that I didn't notice he's now standing right beside me.

I swallow. "Yeah..."

"You okay?" he asks, frowning, leaning close. He pulls off one of his black gloves and presses the back of his bare hand to my forehead, checking my temperature.

I clamp my mouth shut, squeezing my thighs together under the table, desperate to maintain any semblance of professionalism. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Check on me too," Kabir says suddenly, flapping his hand dramatically near his collar. "I think I feel a fainting spell coming on from the sheer manliness you are radiating Rudra."

I turn to him fully. "Why don't you prioritize finding a girlfriend, Kabir? You stick to Rudra like a parasitic barnacle. Frankly, just looking at your face, I can tell you've been structurally single since the last two decades. Forget being in a relationship, you have zero functional female interaction. In the name of speaking to women, you only ever speak to your mother and me, and I'm actively trying to reduce that number."

He stares at me, his jaw dropping in genuine, wounded disbelief. "That... was unnecessarily aggressive, Doctor. You just attacked my entire romantic resume," he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

I roll my eyes at his pathetic drama. "Your 'romantic resume' is a blank piece of paper."

"I'm leaving!" he announces, pushing his chair back with a squeak. "You are a menace to mental health and you just decimated my self esteem." He sulks and stomps out of the room, still rubbing his imaginary wound.

I turn back to Rudra, who had been watching the entire exchange. He watches Kabir disappear, then looks at me. "You really have no filter, do you?"

"Complaining?" I challenge, raising my eyebrow, leaning into his space.

"Appreciating," he corrects, leans in and gently tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Rudra Singhania! Get your ass in here!" Abhimaan's voice cuts sharply through from an adjacent office. Rudra curses low, a sound of profound frustration, and straightens up instantly, snapping back into mission mode.

"I'll be back," he says, giving me one last look before turning toward the door. I nod, watching him leave.

I stand up and walk toward the large vision board, staring at the complex red lines and targets sketched onto the map.

But the details of the mission, the logistics, the threats, none of it is holding my attention. My mind is focused on the terrifying emotional cliff edge. I'm thinking about telling Rudra everything. I can't live in this tense, uncertain space anymore. I need to tell him I love him, too.

"Saanvi?"

I turn, pulled from my thoughts, and saw Mr. Wilson standing by the doorway.

"Yes, Mr. Wilson," I reply, walking toward him.

He steps inside, stopping a distance away. "We got everything. The data drive provides comprehensive evidence against Yashwant," he states. "And regarding your mother's case, we recovered the definitive proof. The case is being formally reopened in California. Justice, such as it is, is finally beginning to function." He pauses. "I felt you should hear it directly."

A breath of pure, profound relief escapes me, forming a genuine smile. But then my concern resurfaces, and I look at him, the frown returning. "What about your girlfriend?"

He looks at me, a flicker of something, amusement, perhaps, crossing his face.

"Yashwant is the reason Fernanda and your unborn child died," I insist. "He needs to be punished for that, too. Not just for the cartel."

I watch him, and then, to my surprise, he actually smiles. Mr. Wilson smiled. It is the rarest, most profound event I've ever witnessed.

"The information we recovered includes the exact records of the operation that day," he confirms. "He will be charged for all of it."

I smile back and nod, feeling the closure on that front. "If you don't mind, may I see her?"

"Of course," he says, nodding. He pulls out his phone and activates the screen. His lock screen displays Fernanda García, beautiful, with a cascade of blonde hair, subtle freckles, and warm, tanned skin, smiling radiantly beside Mr. Wilson, who is looking at her with a wide smile, his hand resting gently on her waist.

"She is breathtakingly beautiful," I whisper, meeting his eyes.

He takes the phone back, glances at the photo again with a raw, private expression, and pockets it. "Very beautiful." he murmurs.

My heart contracts, a sharp, empathetic pain. Rudra's few words about Mr. Wilson confirmed what I suspected, he was a family man at heart, he never wanted this life, the cartels, the agent business. He just wanted to marry Fernanda and raise their child.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson," I say. "You truly have been an angel in my life. You saved me that night and now, you've ensured my safety and helped my mother finally achieve justice. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done."

He lets out a slow, controlled breath, managing a tight smile. "I never understood the fuss about children," he says. "But then I found out Fernanda was pregnant. Suddenly, I felt almost ridiculous happiness. I started planning, looking at neighborhoods, thinking about names. Everything changed in that instant." His voice cracks slightly. "But everything ended in the next. Fernanda. The woman I was meant to marry that afternoon. She was shot, along with our baby. I saw it, I saw her looking at me, her eyes tearing. Her pristine white bridal gown became a shroud of red." His voice falters completely, and he looks up, his gaze fixing on the ceiling trying to hold back the sudden wave of tears. "Her eyes held pure, absolute terror and pain. I was there, holding her. I was crying, shouting at her to stay, to fight, telling her the ambulance was coming. My hands were gripping hers, and she was clutching me so tightly." He pauses. "Then her hand slipped out of mine." He looks down at me, and a single tear escapes, tracking a clean line down his worn cheek. "I witnessed the very definition of finality. The brutality of losing her."

My eyes blur instantly. I step forward and pull him into a close, comforting hug.

After a few seconds, I feel his arms wrap around me, his hands resting on the back of my hair. "When I saw you that night, Saanvi," he whispers, "crying and scared, covered in blood, I told myself...maybe my own baby would have been a girl, just like you."

I pull back, looking up into his pained eyes.

He wipes the tears from my face and offers a small, comforting smile. "And now that I know we both suffered because of that same bastard, sharing this raw pain of losing our people, how can I possibly leave you alone in this fight?"

I manage a small, choked smile in return.

He pats my hair softly, a gesture of deep paternal care. "You never moved on?" I ask.

He looks down at his hands, then back up at me. "I was too busy loving her."

My heart melts entirely. It is a love story both beautiful and terrifying in its fierce, unwavering loyalty to the dead.

"Now," he says, "go back to your home and rest, I'll send Rudra." He walks out.

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