Rudra was making his way toward the basement when the faint sound of struggle reached his ears. Without wasting a moment, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The sight before him made him halt. The shelf was collapsing, the chair beneath it crushed into splinters, and amidst the chaos, his gaze caught the small figure of a bruised, trembling girl. She was running blindly toward him, her wide eyes darting behind her in fear.

Before he could process it, she collided into his chest. Instinct took over—his arms moved on their own, wrapping tightly around her fragile body. It was only a moment later that he felt her go limp, her weight sinking heavily against him as consciousness slipped away.

He looked down at her, bending a little before lowering himself completely to the ground. Her unconscious body rested in his arms, fragile and weightless, and yet he couldn’t process what had just happened. It was too sudden. Too unexpected.

His heartbeat pounded so violently that he could hear it echoing in his own ears. Never before had it raced like this, not when he slit his enemy’s throat, not when he ruled the underworld with an iron fist, not when men twice his size knelt before him in fear. Not even when he stood alone, bloodied and broken, surrounded by enemies.

Yet here he was. Shaken.

What was it?

What just happened?

Why is my heart beating so fast?

Am I… sick?

Thoughts stormed his head before he could even realize it. His heart had never betrayed him like this before. He was known to be heartless, merciless and yet… Why now? Why her? Did his heart truly beat for real this time?

He glanced down at the fragile body in his arms, and for the first time in his life, his hands trembled. A rush of unfamiliar emotions tore through him, anger, fear, possessiveness, confusion all at once, too many to name, too powerful to control.

And then it struck him. Fear. The fear of losing her tightened around his chest like iron chains, while an overwhelming urge to protect her from the world consumed him.

Never in his life had he touched a woman. Not once. And yet here he was, holding this girl like she was the only anchor keeping him from shattering. It felt as if someone had snatched his soul and returned it back at the same time.

For a long moment, he simply stared at the pale, fragile figure in his arms, utterly bewildered by his own feelings. Emotions he had never known, emotions he couldn’t even name—rose within him, raw and unrelenting. It was as if his body no longer obeyed him, as if his own heart had betrayed him.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Shaking the chaos from his mind, he pushed the thoughts aside. Bending, he gathered her more securely in his arms. She was so light, too light, her small frame almost vanishing against his chest. The sight stirred something strange inside him again, but he ignored it. Without another glance at the wrecked basement, he turned and carried her away—anywhere safer than this place.

After laying Aarya’s fragile body gently on the bed, Rudra turned away, his jaw clenched tight. He didn’t linger for even a heartbeat. His mind was a whirlwind, questions clawing at him, emotions he couldn’t control tearing him apart. He needed answers, and he knew exactly where to find them.

His steps were fast, almost thunderous, as he strode down the hall. By the time he pushed open the door to his study, his eyes burned with an intensity sharp enough to cut. Just as he expected, Jaish was there.

Rudra closed the distance in long, heavy strides, his presence filling the room like a storm breaking through the walls.

Jaish had already sensed him, the weight of his aura, the unmistakable rhythm of his steps, even the faint trace of his scent that carried the promise of danger. From the moment the door flew open, Jaish’s gaze had been fixed on him. He knew exactly what Rudra’s arrival meant.

Rudra’s aura was burning, his eyes hard and unreadable. Was it anger? But why? Even he couldn’t name the fire clawing at his chest.

Jaish tilted his head slightly, his calm voice breaking the silence.
“What happened to you?”

Rudra’s gaze sharpened as he stepped closer, the air around him heavy and suffocating. His voice came out low and deadly calm, the kind of calm that always came before the storm.
“You kidnapped the girl?”

Anyone else would have collapsed under that tone, trembling in fear, but Jaish wasn’t anyone else. He had already seen sides of Rudra no one else had witnessed and perhaps no one ever would.

“I didn’t,” Jaish said immediately, his answer firm and without hesitation. His composure didn’t waver, though he could see the storm rising in Rudra’s eyes.

“Then why the hell was that little girl tied inside my mansion’s basement?” Rudra roared, his voice shaking the very air between them.

For a moment, even Jaish froze. He had seen Rudra furious before, seen him break bones without hesitation, beat men until they begged for death, kill without a flicker of remorse. But this… this was different. This wasn’t the Rudra he knew. The man before him looked like a stranger, someone whose rage was tangled with something deeper, something Jaish couldn’t quite understand.

“Are you alright?” Jaish asked at last, his tone calm despite the storm raging inches away from him.

“I asked you something,” Rudra growled, his eyes burning like fire, refusing to let him escape with questions.

“I already told you,” Jaish answered steadily. “I didn’t kidnap a girl. And you know very well, we don’t take girls without any reason.”

“Reason?” Rudra’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and demanding. Clearly asking for the reason to kidnap the girl. His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering figure casting a shadow across Jaish.

Rudra knew, deep down, that Jaish would never do such a thing. Not because he couldn’t, Jaish was capable of far worse but because they lived by their own code. They never involved innocents in their business, never touched those who had nothing to do with their world. And above all, Jaish respected him. He would never go against Rudra’s word.

Yet the little girl… she was different. Too small, too fragile, too harmless to belong here. This world of blood and shadows was no place for such souls.

“I didn’t even know where that girl came from,” Jaish said finally, his tone steady but laced with the faintest edge of defense. “She was in my car when I came back from the meeting. She tried to run, but I caught her. Think, Rudra. What if she’s a spy? Someone keeping an eye on us? We can’t take this lightly just because she is a little girl.”

His words hung in the air, logical, but they didn’t sit right with Rudra.

Rudra lifted two fingers to his temple, tapping against his forehead as though the pressure could silence the chaos inside him. Frustration gnawed at him, not just at the situation, but at himself. His emotions were foreign, a storm building in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. He had never been like this before. Never this… restless.

He didn’t even know why he was questioning Jaish like this. If the roles were reversed, he would have done the same. Then why didn’t it feel right? Why did it feel like someone was tearing into his chest, ripping away something precious, something he didn’t even realize was his to lose?

Jaish studied him quietly, unease flickering in his eyes. He had seen Rudra angry. He had seen him ruthless. But this—this tension, this desperation… was new.

“Out.”

The word left Rudra’s lips in a deadly calm voice, sharper than any roar.

Jaish hesitated, his voice low. “If you want—”

“I said out!” Rudra cut him off, the words sharp enough to slice through the silence.

His jaw tightened, teeth grinding as his gaze locked onto Jaish. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The fire in his eyes left no room for argument.

Jaish swallowed whatever he had been about to say. He knew better than to push now. The weight in Rudra’s voice, the storm flickering just beneath his skin, it was crystal clear he wanted no one near him.

Without another word, Jaish turned toward the door. His steps were heavy, reluctant, but he forced himself forward. Just before leaving, he glanced back once, watching Rudra’s tense figure, the man who seemed both familiar and entirely like a stranger.

Then Jaish slipped out, pulling the door shut behind him. The room fell into suffocating silence.

The moment the door clicked shut, Rudra stormed toward the table, his hands gripping its edge so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white. His jaw was locked, eyes burning crimson with barely restrained fury. The rage inside him clawed to be unleashed, demanding blood, demanding destruction.

But why?

Why was it bubbling, boiling, ripping through him as though his very veins were aflame? He couldn’t understand it. He had never felt this lost, never allowed thoughts to run so wild, never let questions swarm his mind until they gnawed at his sanity.

With a guttural groan, he swept his arm across the table, sending a vase and scattered papers crashing to the ground. Shards of porcelain splintered across the floor. His teeth clenched so hard it hurt, yet the pressure inside him only grew.

He kicked the chair with brutal force, the wooden legs screeching against the floor before toppling. His chest heaved as he stalked to the glass window, staring out at the night beyond. His reflection glared back at him, a man burning with anger, yet shadowed by something he couldn’t name.

Something deeper.

Something he wasn’t ready to admit.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Were you running from us?”

“Huh? Wh… who are you?”

“Don’t worry, little girl. We’ll take care of you very well.”

“I won’t come with you!”

“You have to. We are a family now. You’ll live with us forever.”

“NO! Leave me!”

“Leave you? Hah. I paid a big price for you—how could I let you go?”

“Please! Someone help me! I don’t want to go with you. Leave me!”

The mansion stood wrapped in silence, its grand halls calm and still. But inside a vast chamber, shadows played differently. The room was lavish, every detail neat and refined. Through the wide bedside window, the moonlight slipped in, silver beams painting the space in a quiet glow.

On the king-sized bed, Aarya’s small frame lay curled, tangled in the soft mattress. Sweat trickled down her forehead, her body restless, lips trembling as faint murmurs escaped, too broken, too soft to catch.

Then suddenly, her eyes shot open. Wide. Breath ragged. She bolted upright, scanning the darkened room with frantic eyes before clutching her chest. A long, shaky sigh left her lips.

“So… it was just a dream… Thank God…” she whispered, still gasping for air, her hand pressed firmly against her racing heart. She tried to steady herself, her voice no more than a fragile mumble in the stillness.

A voice came from the shadows.

“You woke up?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

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