## Ishita Sharma's Perspective

The shoot had stretched far longer than planned. The studio lights were dimming one by one, and the sounds of laughter and footsteps were slowly fading down the hallway. Everyone was gone. Assistants, stylists, even Reet had waved me a tired goodbye. But I stayed, huddled on the couch just outside his glass cabin, because I knew he was still in his meeting.

**Rudra Singh Rathor.**

He had said, **"*Main hoon na. I'll drop you.*"** (I'm here. I'll drop you.) Like always. And like always, I believed him.

I waited, my heels kicked off, my **dupatta** laid across my lap. I scrolled through pictures from the shoot, trying to occupy myself.

Fifteen minutes... twenty... thirty.

Through the blinds of his cabin, I could see him-still speaking, nodding, flipping through files. Intense. Focused. Lost in his empire-building world.

*I didn't want to disturb him.*

He already did too much for me. Dropping me home every night, caring in that silent, protective way of his. I told myself I wasn't a child; I could take care of myself.

So I quietly picked up my bag, slipped on my heels, and tiptoed past the glass door. I threw one last glance inside. He didn't see me.

*And that was okay.* At least, that's what I told myself.

I walked out of the building. The air was colder than I expected. The streets were darker, quieter than usual. My phone had only **4% battery left**. No cab was available nearby. The Metro was a good ten-minute walk.

Still, I started walking, wrapping my *dupatta* tightly, my arms folded across my chest.

And then...

The laugh. Low. Mocking. Close behind me.

I froze for a second, then continued, faster this time. My heels tapped faster against the pavement.

**Boy 1:** **"*Arre dekho toh kaun hai... raat mein akeli titli.*"** (Look who it is... a lone butterfly in the night.)

**Boy 2:** **"*Bohot sundar lag rahi ho, madam. Humein bhi thoda time de do na.*"** (You look very beautiful, madam. Give us some time too.)

My breath hitched. I didn't dare look back. But I could hear them-at least three boys, following too close. Their words getting dirtier. Heavier. One of them whistled. Another one clicked his tongue.

My fingers clutched my bag tighter. *Why did I leave alone? Why didn't I wait just a little longer?*

I turned a corner-faster now. Heart pounding wildly. My eyes scanned desperately for lights, people, anything.

The sound of their footsteps quickened behind me.

And before I could even cross the road, one of them said: **"*Bhaagne ki kya zarurat hai, hum toh dost banna chahte hain...*"** (Why the need to run, we just want to be friends...)

I was about to break into a run when I heard it.

A different sound.

Heavy. Sharp. **Fast footsteps** approaching from the opposite direction. A new voice-low, commanding. Utterly, terrifyingly **familiar**.

**Rudra:** (His voice slicing through the darkness, cold enough to freeze blood) **"Stop."**

The sheer force of that single word made the boys behind me falter.

**Rudra:** (His voice was closer now, filled with a lethal fury I had never heard before) **"*Ek qadam bhi aage badhaya toh zindagi bhar apne pairon pe khade nahi ho paoge.*"** (If you take even one step further, you won't be able to stand on your feet for the rest of your life.)

I closed my eyes, a rush of overwhelming relief and terror washing over me. **He had seen me.** He had followed.

**Boy 3:** (A nervous, high-pitched scoff) **"*Kaun hai be tu? Side ho ja, apna kaam kar.*"** (Who are you, man? Step aside, mind your own business.)

**Rudra:** (He was right behind the boys now, his presence a wall of ice. I could practically *feel* his towering height and his muscular frame.) **"*Mera kaam yahi hai.*"** (This *is* my business.)

**Rudra:** (His voice dropped to a quiet, terrifying threat directed at the gang leader) **"*Yeh jo ladki tumne akeli samjhi hai... yeh meri zimmedaari hai. Aur meri zimmedaari ko chhedne ka anjaam, tum soch bhi nahi sakte.*"** (This girl you thought was alone... she is my responsibility. And you cannot even begin to imagine the consequence of messing with my responsibility.)

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with immediate fear from the boys. They knew that voice meant danger, money, and power.

**Rudra:** (The final command, delivered like an execution order) **"*Ab yahan se gaayab ho jao. Aur agar yeh chehra mujhe dobara is shehar mein dikha... toh tumhari agli subah jail ki hawa khaate hue hogi.*"** (Now disappear from here. And if I see your face in this city again... your next morning will be spent breathing prison air.)

I heard a frantic scramble of footsteps as the three boys scattered instantly, disappearing into the dark lanes.

My legs finally gave way. I leaned against the cold brick wall, clutching my bag, finally letting out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

And then, his strong, warm hands were on my arms, steadying me, pulling me gently away from the wall.

## Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective -

The meeting should have wrapped up in thirty minutes. It didn't. The client was persistent, the topic dragged, and I-honestly-was intensely distracted.

The entire time, a part of me kept drifting back to her. **Ishita.** She had finished her shoot and must be waiting outside. Like always. Quietly, without demanding, without reminding. Just... trusting I'd be there.

And I always was. Until tonight.

I glanced at my watch again. **10:41 PM.**

Damn it.

I stood, mid-sentence, cutting the conversation short. "We'll resume this tomorrow morning. I have somewhere I need to be."

I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the conference room. The entire corporate façade I maintained-the composure, the control-was dissolving into sheer panic.

The corridor was silent. The hallway bench was empty.

My throat went dry. I walked toward the glass entrance of the studio, expecting to find her waiting in the lounge, perhaps speaking to Reet's assistant. But no. She wasn't anywhere.

I dialed her number. It rang once. *Cut.* I tried again. **Switch off.**

Of course. Of course, she wouldn't bother about her battery; she never does.

I checked the studio's main gate log-she left **20 minutes ago**. Alone. At this hour?

What the hell was I doing?!

I stormed out, telling the guard to keep the car ready, but my feet were faster than my brain. I ran-literally ran-down the same path she always took toward the metro lane.

And that's when I heard the voices. Not hers. **Them.**

Three of them. Laughing. Mocking. Following. And her? Walking faster. Unaware that I was right behind them now.

My breath burned in my chest. My fists clenched so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palm.

*"Bhaagne ki kya zarurat hai, hum toh dost banna chahte hain..."*

That was the last sentence they ever got to say. Because the next second-

**Rudra:** **"RUK JA."** (STOP.)

My voice boomed through the street like thunder. All three of them turned instantly. Confused. Alarmed. But only for a second.

I didn't utter a word. I stepped forward. Slowly. Dangerously.

One of them tried to open his mouth. I didn't let him finish. My fist landed on his jaw so hard he hit the ground sideways, the sound sickeningly dull.

The other two? They ran. **Smart decision.**

I turned toward the boy still groaning on the floor and grabbed his collar, lifting him up just enough to whisper with lethal calm in his ear-

**Rudra:** **"*Agar zindagi mein phir kabhi kisi ladki ke peeche chalne ka socha bhi na, toh usi zubaan se mafi mangvayunga jisse abhi gandh faila raha tha.*"** (If you ever think of following any girl again in your life, I will make you apologize with the same tongue you used to spread your filth just now.)

I dropped him. He collapsed into a silent heap.

Then I turned around.

She was standing there. Just... still. Frozen. Leaning against the wall.

Her eyes locked with mine. **Wide. Vulnerable. Scared.**

Not of me. But maybe of what could have happened if I hadn't shown up.

I walked up to her. Didn't say anything at first. I just looked at her-really looked. Her hair slightly messy from the wind. Her lips trembling. Her beautiful, fragile presence in the dark, hostile night.

And that was the moment something inside me **snapped**. The last, thin thread of my control burned away.

No. This wasn't just care. Or concern. This was **fire**. This was the absolute truth I had been fighting since the day at the Mandir.

**I loved her.** And now I knew it in my bones.

I wanted to pull her into my arms, hold her so tightly she'd never feel unsafe again. I wanted to say everything: *I was wrong. I shouldn't have been late. I should never have let you walk alone.*

But all that came out was a soft, ragged sound, my voice rough with relief and lingering fury-

**Rudra:** **"*Aap... thik ho?*"** (Are you... okay?)

I saw her standing under that flickering streetlight-alone. Frightened. Holding her *dupatta* tightly, eyes slightly glazed, lips parted in shock.

*God.*

What if I had been a minute late? What if those bastards had reached her? What if her face hadn't been the first thing I saw every morning?

My blood was still boiling from the violence, but she... she just stood there, a devastating look of **guilt** all over her face, like she had done something wrong. And that-that broke me more than the fight.

I walked up to her, took a deep, shuddering breath, and did the hardest thing I've ever done: I tried not to scream.

**Rudra:** **"*Aap pagal ho gaye ho kya?*"** (Have you gone mad?) My voice was low. Controlled. But every word felt like a bomb waiting to go off. **"*Late night tha, pata tha mujhe aana tha... toh bhi aap chali gayi. Akeli. Akele chal di aap?*"** (It was late at night, you knew I was coming... yet you left. Alone. You walked alone?)

She flinched. Just a little.

I immediately stepped back. I couldn't... I couldn't scare her. Not her.

I dug my nails into my palm to steady myself. My voice was still rough-sharp-tinged with that madness that only comes when you're afraid of losing the one thing that matters.

**Rudra:** **"*Main kya sirf aapko drop karne ke liye aata hoon?*"** (Do I only come here just to drop you off?) **"*Samjhti kya hain aap... ki main busy tha toh... toh aap khud hi sambhal logi sab kuch?*"** (What do you think... that if I was busy, you would just handle everything yourself?)

She opened her mouth, perhaps to explain, perhaps to apologize.

But I wasn't done. The fear was too raw.

**Rudra:** **"*Aapko idea bhi hai... kya ho sakta tha agar main time pe nahi aata?*"** (Do you even have an idea... what could have happened if I hadn't come on time?) My voice cracked slightly. **"*Do minute aur lag jaata mujhe... toh-*"** I stopped. The word *marr* (die) was lodged in my throat.

My jaw clenched. I turned away for a second because if I looked at her any longer, I would shout, and I would never forgive myself for that.

Then, softer-barely a whisper-

**Rudra:** **"*Main cheekh nahi sakta aap pe. Main gussa nahi kar sakta aap pe.*"** (I can't shout at you. I can't be angry with you.) **"*Toh main karun kya, Ishita? Aap batao. Aise galti karein aap aur main chup rahun?*"** (Then what should I do, Ishita? You tell me. You make such a mistake and I should just stay quiet?)

I turned to face her again. Her eyes were full of unshed tears.

## Ishita Sharma's Perspective -

I didn't mean to walk out alone. I just... I didn't want to bother him. He looked so focused, so serious, and I-I convinced myself I wasn't that important.

But now... seeing him like this... eyes wild, voice shaking, fists clenched... I knew I was wrong. Completely, devastatingly wrong.

I stood there, numb. Not from fear of *him*. But because he was more than just angry. **He was terrified.** Of what could've happened to me. Of the thought of not reaching me in time. And that made my chest ache.

He wasn't shouting like other men. He wasn't calling me names. He was breaking inside while trying to protect me on the outside.

**Ishita:** (I whispered, my voice barely audible) **"I didn't want to bother you... *aap busy the...*"** (You were busy...)

His nostrils flared again, but he looked away, biting his inner cheek-a clear sign he was struggling for control.

I stepped forward, slowly, unsure, and placed my hand gently on his arm.

His eyes shut at my touch. Like the simple contact was the only thing capable of **grounding his storm**.

**Ishita:** **"*Main thik hoon... sach mein. Aap aa gaye na...*"** (I am okay... truly. You came, didn't you...) I whispered again.

He looked at me, and suddenly... all that raw fire in his eyes dimmed into something softer. Painful. Protective. It was the look of a man who had stared into an abyss and barely pulled himself back.

**Rudra:** (His voice was low, shaky, laced with an intensity that went beyond any business deal) **"*Aap meri zimmedari nahi ho...*"** (You are not my responsibility...) **"*Aap meri aadat ban gaye ho. And losing you-even in imagination-feels worse than dying.*"** (You have become my habit. And losing you-even in imagination-feels worse than dying.)

My breath caught. *Aadat* (a habit). He wasn't talking about duty; he was talking about necessity.

He wasn't just a ruthless tycoon anymore. Not to me. He was mine. My storm. My shadow. My protector.

I reached up with my free hand and placed my palm flat against his chest, right over his frantically pounding heart.

**Ishita:** **"*Toh phir... toh phir kyun nahi kehte ki aapko meri parwah hai?*"** (Then... then why don't you just say that you care about me?) **"*Kyun hamesha yeh 'zimmedari' aur 'asset' ki deewar banate hain?*"** (Why do you always build this wall of 'responsibility' and 'asset'?)

He closed his eyes again, his head bowing slightly toward mine.

**Rudra:** **"*Kyunki... kyunki agar deewar nahi banaunga, toh main toot jaunga, Ishita.*"** (Because... because if I don't build a wall, I will break, Ishita.) **"*Aur yeh jo chhota sa dil aapke paas hai... yeh mera sab kuch hai. Agar isko kuch hua... main sambhal nahi paunga.*"** (And this small heart that you have... it is my everything. If anything happens to it... I won't be able to handle it.)

He opened his eyes, and the final look was one of complete, utter surrender-but not defeat.

**Rudra:** **"*Ab chaliye. Humein yahan aur nahi rukna chahiye.*"** (Now let's go. We shouldn't stay here any longer.) **"*Aaj raat aapko main darwaze tak chhodunga. Aur main kisi ki nahi sununga.*"** (Tonight I will drop you right to your door. And I won't listen to anyone.)

He took my hand, his grip firm and unyielding, and led me toward the waiting car. His anger was gone, replaced by a devastating resolve. He wasn't asking anymore; he was taking control of our safety, and I knew, in that moment, I would follow him anywhere.

The moment he gently took my hand in his-without a word-something in me cracked wide open. The fear was still a dull throb, but it was being steadily replaced by the overwhelming, quiet force of his presence.

We didn't speak. The car glided through the quiet streets, city lights passing us in slow motion, but all I could feel was **his thumb slowly brushing circles on the back of my hand.** Warm. Steady. Unshaking.

**Rudra Singh Rathor**-this man, this iron-willed, billionaire tycoon-looked like a storm hiding behind a sunset. Quiet, yes... but still heavy. Still intense. Still brewing something inside.

I turned my head slightly, watching him from the corner of my eye. His **jaw was tense**, his eyes fixed on the road-but his grip on my hand never loosened, not for a second.

He didn't ask questions. He didn't accuse. He just *held me.* Like his fingers were reminding me... *"I'm here. I got you. And I won't let anything happen to you again."*

And God... that meant more to me than words ever could.

I wasn't used to being cared for. Not like this. Not silently. Not without expectations. But he made even silence feel like safety.

I whispered finally, voice trembling-**"*Aap abhi bhi gusse mein hain?*"** (Are you still angry?)

His grip tightened for just a second... then softened again. He didn't answer.

But his hand... it stayed right there. Wrapped around mine.

And that told me more than words ever could.

**Ishita:** (I squeezed his fingers gently in return) **"*Mujhe pata hai aap mujhse gussa nahi hain. Aap... aap darr gaye the.*"** (I know you aren't angry at me. You... you were scared.)

I watched his profile. His strong jaw visibly softened at my understanding.

**Ishita:** **"*Main vaada karti hoon, dobara aisi galti nahi karungi. Main hamesha intezaar karungi. Sirf aapka.*"** (I promise, I won't make this mistake again. I will always wait. Only for you.)

## Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective -

She was safe. That's all that mattered.

But damn it-**how close I came to losing her tonight.** The image of those despicable men closing in on her was branded into my mind. I should've come out earlier. I should've made sure she was already in the car before my meeting even started.

And now... her delicate fingers rested in mine. I didn't say a word. I didn't need to.

She wasn't some employee. She wasn't just a model on a shoot I funded. **She was... Ishita Sharma.** And she mattered to me in ways I hadn't even begun to explain.

When she asked, softly, *"Aap abhi bhi gusse mein hain?"* I pressed her hand gently. Just once. It was my way of saying: *"No, Ishita. Not at you. Never at you. I'm angry at the world that dares to even breathe near you with bad intentions."*

Then she squeezed my hand back, and her next words broke through the last of my silence.

**Ishita:** *"Mujhe pata hai aap mujhse gussa nahi hain. Aap... aap darr gaye the. Main vaada karti hoon, dobara aisi galti nahi karungi. Main hamesha intezaar karungi. Sirf aapka."*

*She will always wait. Only for me.* The promise was a weight of pure gold settling on my chest.

**Rudra:** (My thumb brushed her knuckles again, a quiet thank you, before I finally spoke, my voice low and husky) **"*Gussa nahi hoon, Ishita. Mai na ulat-palat ho gaya tha.*"** (I'm not angry, Ishita. I was... turned upside down.)

I risked a quick glance at her. Her eyes were shimmering, waiting for the rest of my difficult truth.

**Rudra:** **"*Jab maine tumhara phone kaata hua suna... aur phir tumhein wahan akele dekha... toh aisa laga jaise kisi ne mere se mera saans hi cheen liya ho.*"** (When I heard your phone was switched off... and then saw you alone there... it felt like someone had snatched my breath away.)

I kept driving. Her house was just a few minutes away.

**Rudra:** **"*Tumhein pata hai? Aaj tumne meri zimmedari ki deewar bhi tod di.*"** (Do you know? Today you also broke the wall of my responsibility.)

**Ishita:** (She looked confused) "*Deewar? Maine kya kiya?*" (Wall? What did I do?)

**Rudra:** **"*Tum chali gayi. Akeli. Aur uss pal... main realise kiya ki yeh sirf zimmedari nahi hai jo mujhe tumhari taraf kheenchti hai. Yeh...*"** (You left. Alone. And in that moment... I realized it isn't just responsibility that pulls me toward you. It's...)

I squeezed her hand one last time, cutting myself off just before the forbidden word.

**Rudra:** **"... *Yeh meri aadat se bhi zyada hai. Yeh meri zarurat hai, Ishita.*"** (...It's more than my habit. It's my need, Ishita.)

I focused on the road, pulling up to the familiar spot two lanes away from her street. But this time, I didn't stop. I slowed down, pulled the car right up to the curb, and looked at her, my **ocean-blue eyes** heavy with the unspoken gravity of the night.

**Rudra:** **"*Main tumhe dobara chhod kar nahin jaa raha akela. Door reh kar bhi nahin. Tumhara ghar aane tak tum mere nazron ke saamne rahogi.*"** (I am not leaving you alone again. Not even by staying far away. You will stay in my sight until you reach your home.)

I released her hand, the sudden loss of contact jarring. I nodded toward the door. **"Go."**