Rudra Singh Rathor's Perspective -]

*Eternity Group | President's Cabin

The soft hum of the AC filled the massive president cabin of *Eternity Group*, mixing with the low tapping of my fingers on the keyboard. The city skyline stretched beyond the glass walls, but I wasn't looking out. I was buried deep in balance sheets, international contracts, and restructuring plans for the Rajasthan expansion.

Work. Structure. Control. The only constants of my life.

Until her.

Ishi.

My phone buzzed.

I ignored it-probably Laksh updating something. But then it buzzed again. Then again.

I frowned. No one dares to spam me unless it's something *urgent*. I unlocked it.

**Unknown Number.**

> **"Ohhhh Rudra Singh Rathor is in love... wow, how romantic. Mr. Rathor in love with a 20-year-old girl who is a model, makeup artist, and a student. Once upon a time, you said you don't believe in God or love. Now look at you."**

My brows tightened. The audacity of the familiarity was staggering.

> **"Let's see how fragile your baby girl is."**

Attached was a *video*.

I tapped on it. My heartbeat slowed.

It was *her*. My *Isha*. Standing near a roadside flower vendor. Smiling. Chatting. Her hair open, her bag hanging from one shoulder. She looked innocent, radiant. Then, in the video, I saw her hand suddenly twitch. She had pricked her finger on a thorn. She winced, sucked her fingertip gently. The vendor offered a tissue.

A completely normal, beautiful moment-stolen and desecrated.

My jaw clenched. That angle-it **was from a hidden camera**.

Then another message.

> **"The vendor is my man."**

> **"Now Mr. Rathor, you have two choices: Leave her and marry my sister. Or... suffer. You know I don't bluff."**

A long silence took over the room.

My eyes remained fixed on the phone. My body, still. The cold control I typically held was fracturing.

That *bastard* had the audacity to stalk her. To *touch* her world. To *threaten* me. To *threaten her.*

I stood up slowly, eyes narrowing like a predator. I walked to the massive window, gripping the phone so tightly I thought the glass would crack.

**Rudra:** **"Laksh."** I said coldly, pressing the intercom. The intercom button felt like ice beneath my fingertip.

He entered in less than five seconds. One look at me-at the silence and the lack of movement-and his face dropped.

**Laksh:** **"Yes, sir?"**

**Rudra:** **"Track this number. I want the source, the IP, the full chain of where this came from. I want to know who sent it, when, and how close they are to her. I want that flower vendor identified, located, and secured. And I want this done-*yesterday*. Every moment is a risk."**

Laksh nodded stiffly. **Laksh:** **"Understood. I'll activate our top-tier trace team. Do we inform the police or handle this internally?"**

I looked at the phone again. That video. Her face. Her smile.

My hands curled into fists. The veins in my forearm bulged.

**Rudra:** (My voice dropped to a lethal whisper that was far more terrifying than a shout.) **"Internally. No police. I want this man to disappear without leaving a single trace on the public record. No one handles my security but me. And no one touches her."**

**Rudra:** **"No one... and I mean no one... touches her. Not even in thought. That slight cut on her finger? They pay for that a thousand times over."**

**Rudra:** **"If they want to see what Rudra Singh Rathor looks like when he stops playing business and starts playing war... they've picked the wrong man. And the wrong girl. Their entire world ends today, Laksh. Start the destruction."**

**It's been fifteen days.**

Fifteen goddamn days since that first message-and every hour feels like a year.

Fifteen days of silence... not from *them*, but from *me*. I haven't retaliated yet. I'm gathering every single weakness they have.

They haven't stopped. The texts keep coming-same number, same threat, sometimes with new videos, photos of Isha from a distance-her walking out of college, her at her makeup studio, even one where she was laughing at a street *chai* stall with Reet.

Each one more intrusive. Each one more personal.

Each one like a knife under my skin.

**And I've kept it hidden from her.** My own security team, the best in the world, **can't Abel to find who is doing this** yet. This infuriates me. It means this enemy is not only powerful but invisible.

Not because I don't trust her. But because she trusts *me*. And that's the only thing keeping me sane right now.

She thinks it's sorted. She believes me when I say, **"It was just someone trying to provoke, jaan. Laksh handled it."**

She smiled and hugged me that day, said, **"I knew it. You don't bend, Mr. Rathor."**

No, I don't bend. I *break* people.

But for her... I'm pretending.

**I lie awake every night** replaying every second of the messages. Analyzing every detail in the photos. I made Laksh double the security, disguised the guards so she wouldn't notice. Hired cyber teams. Shadow teams. Even called in a favor from an underground contact in Dubai.

**I can't breathe unless I know she's safe.**

At work, my eyes remain calm, jaw tight, hands steady-but beneath the suit and the cold demeanour, I'm burning.

**I stare at my phone again.**

**New Message**

**Unknown Number.**

> *"So, Mr. Ruthless. You're still holding on to the little girl? She has no idea, right? Brave, Mr. Rathor. But you're running out of time. My sister's waiting for your yes. Tick-tock."*

I exhale slowly. Toss the phone on the table. The cheap audacity of calling my **Ishi** a 'little girl' makes me see red.

They think they've cornered me. They think I'll *choose fear* over love.

But they've never seen what I become... when someone touches what's *mine*.

And she is mine. My **Ishi**. My **jaana**.

I recall our last conversation. **One day, she softly kissed my forehead and whispered, "I'm proud of you, Ru. For protecting everyone. For protecting us."**

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *She doesn't know... the war I'm already fighting behind her smile. But I need her to keep that smile.*

**Rudra** (I press the intercom again, my voice betraying no strain.) **"Laksh, update on the traceable metadata? I want a timeline for their next communication, predict the frequency. I need to know their pattern."**

**Laksh:** **"Sir, the firewall is impenetrable. It's professional. But we believe the source is local, not international. Their pattern is random, designed to create maximum anxiety."**

**Rudra:** (I close my eyes for a fraction of a second, picturing her safe.) **"Tell the trace team to switch focus. Don't look for the digital sender. Look for the physical surveillance team. Find the leak in the CCTV network around her studio. They are leaving footprints; you are just looking in the wrong place. And Laksh, one more thing."**

**Laksh:** **"Yes, sir?"**

**Rudra:** **"Confirm the blue rose delivery is done discreetly. And make sure she gets her favorite Peri Peri Makhana today. She needs no extra stress."**

I'll keep it hidden.

Let her dream.

Let her laugh.

Let her plan her next reel with Reet.

Let her joke with her brother.

Let her cry over nail breaks or favorite earrings gone missing.

I'll handle the hell in the background.

Because if protecting her means burning down every threat in silence...

Then *so be it.*

**I hated doing it.**

Every damn second of it. Every tap of the 'delete' button on her sweet, simple morning texts felt like sawing off my own limb.

**But I started keeping distance from her.**

Not because I wanted to. Not because I stopped loving her. But because **the threats were getting *darker***.

They knew her schedule better than anyone. They sent me a picture of her outside our favourite ice cream spot. Another from outside her studio. One from her balcony, at night, while **she was just on a video call with Reet, in her oversized tee, bun on her head**, completely unaware that someone... *some sick bastard*... was watching her.

And every threat came with a choice.

**Unknown Number:** ***"She's still laughing, huh?"***

**Unknown Number:** ***"Your silence is a yes to the marriage then?"***

**Unknown Number:** ***"Or should we leave a mark on her to remind you?"***

That was the one that broke me. *Leave a mark on her.* The thought made the blood rush from my head.

I couldn't take chances. So **I did the only thing I've never done before.**

**I started pulling away from *my own peace***.

From her.

**I stopped calling her in the morning like I used to**. **Stopped sending her my mid-day "eat something" texts**. **Stopped picking her up randomly**. **Stopped showing up at the studio and waiting in the car just to get one glimpse of her smile.**

**I even stopped replying with voice notes when she sent me hers.** I just typed short, sterile replies: *Busy. Later. Yes.*

It **killed me**. Absolutely fucking killed me.

Because **she didn't fight. She didn't question me.**

She just... quietly accepted it.

She thought it was *work*. That I was *busy*. And **her voice still sounded soft and full of love** when she said things like:

**Ishita (Voice Note):** ***"Ru... take care, okay? You've been working too much. Please eat. Love you."***

**Ishita (Text):** ***"I miss you. But I know you'll come when you can. Focus on your empire, Mr. Rathor. I'm waiting for you."***

She had no idea the war I was fighting wasn't at the company boardroom... it was at the edge of my sanity, trying to keep her alive.

Some nights, **I sat in my penthouse looking at the wall of screens Laksh set up**. Live CCTV from her studio, her building, college gates, even that damn tea stall she loved.

**She'd be laughing in one of them.**

And I'd sit here, glass of water untouched in my hand, throat tight, wishing I could walk up and just hold her.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *Just five minutes. Five minutes to tell her I love her more than air.*

But I didn't.

**Rudra:** (I spoke into the vast, cold silence of the penthouse.) **"Laksh, what's the status of the deep trace on the flower vendor's transaction log? I need his handler."**

**Laksh (On Phone):** **"Still chasing, Sir. But we have eyes on her 24/7. And, Sir... that last message? Maybe we should-**"

**Rudra:** **"No. No contact. No risk. I won't let her bleed for my war. I will find him and end him. Until then, maintain the distance. She is safer hating the distance than facing the danger."**

I wouldn't... until I knew she was safe. Because right now?

I'm poison to her world. And she doesn't deserve to bleed for my war.

But god help the one behind those messages.

Because the only thing more dangerous than a ruthless man in love...

...is a ruthless man *protecting* his love.

I was halfway through a business report when my phone buzzed. The cold numbers on the screen meant nothing; the only calculation I cared about was her safety.

Just another message.

I thought maybe Laksh or security sent an update. But when I opened it, **it felt like the world *tilted***.

It was *her*. Ishita.

Smiling, doing her shoot, the lights around her soft and golden, her hair caught in wind from a giant fan. **She looked... like something out of a dream**. My beautiful, oblivious **Isha**.

But then-**my breath stopped**.

In the left corner of the frame, partially hidden behind the light stand... A *man*. Black hoodie. Face covered. His hand inside the coat - **pointing a gun**.

Right at her.

A fucking gun.

**My heartbeat *exploded***. A primal roar of pure terror and rage clawed its way up my throat. **I shot up from my chair.**

Another message came.

**Unknown Number:** ***"Break up with her. Right now. Or next time that gun won't stay still."***

**Unknown Number:** ***"You know what to do. Marry my sister. Save your little doll."***

I don't remember *thinking*. My body reacted before my brain did.

I grabbed the closest paperweight - a heavy glass cube - and *hurled* it at the window of my cabin.

**CRASH.**

The sound was deafening. The glass shattered into thousands of shards, sparkling like ice in sunlight, mirroring the splintering of my control.

I didn't feel the cuts on my knuckles. Didn't feel anything except *rage*. Pure, annihilating **rage**.

How dare they? How dare anyone point a fucking weapon at *her*?

She had nothing to do with my world of blood, betrayal, and boardrooms. She was light. Soft. Pure. My **Isha**. The girl who tied my heart with her *dupatta* in a gurudwara.

And now these bastards want to *use* her?

I started pacing, my steps heavy, loud, crunching on the glass. **Chest heaving. Breath short.**

I wanted blood.

**Laksh:** **"Sir!"** Laksh came running in, eyes wide as he saw the glass and my feral intensity. **"What the hell happened?! Rudra-you're bleeding!"**

I ignored the blood dripping from my fist. **Rudra:** **"Lock the studio shoot down."** My voice was a low growl, controlled but laced with violence.

**Laksh:** **"What-?"**

**Rudra:** **"NOW, Laksh. Get my men there. Quiet. No noise. No panic. She shouldn't even *suspect* anything. Find that man and stop the shoot. I want that gun taken off the field. Move!"**

He hesitated for a split second, then the training took over. **Laksh:** **"Understood, Sir. Activating the immediate response team. Target location locked."** He picked up his phone immediately.

I turned back to the broken glass. **Hands trembling. Mind racing.**

She was on set. Smiling. **Standing near death - and didn't even know it.**

And I... I was locked in this office like a coward.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *I want to go to her. Grab her. Hold her. Take her far, far away. Where no one, not even God, could reach. But I can't. Not yet.*

**Laksh:** **"Sir, we're on it,"** Laksh said behind me, his voice calm now, efficient. **"Your private team is already en route. They will find the man. What do we do with him?"**

I looked down at the paperweight, now lying near the broken glass.

**Rudra:** **"Bring him to me. Alive. I want him to know exactly why he is suffering. No one hurts what's mine, Laksh. No one."**

I couldn't let her see me like this. Not bleeding. Not shaking. Not broken.

Because she still looked at me like I was some *unbreakable* man.

But I swear on every breath in my body - if even a *strand* of her hair is harmed...

**Rudra:** **"I will become *everything* they fear I am. Worse. Get me a clear flight path to the nearest available secure location. I am taking her out of this city the moment this threat is neutralized."**

I was halfway through a business report when my phone buzzed. The cold numbers on the screen meant nothing; the only calculation I cared about was her safety.

Just another message.

I thought maybe Laksh or security sent an update. But when I opened it, **it felt like the world *tilted***.

It was *her*. Ishita.

Smiling, doing her shoot, the lights around her soft and golden, her hair caught in wind from a giant fan. **She looked... like something out of a dream**. My beautiful, oblivious **Ishi**.

But then-**my breath stopped**.

In the left corner of the frame, partially hidden behind the light stand... A *man*. Black hoodie. Face covered. His hand inside the coat - **pointing a gun**.

Right at her.

A fucking gun.

**My heartbeat *exploded***. A primal roar of pure terror and rage clawed its way up my throat. **I shot up from my chair.**

Another message came.

**Unknown Number:** ***"Break up with her. Right now. Or next time that gun won't stay still."***

**Unknown Number:** ***"You know what to do. Marry my sister. Save your little doll."***

I don't remember *thinking*. My body reacted before my brain did.

I grabbed the closest paperweight - a heavy glass cube - and *hurled* it at the window of my cabin.

**CRASH.**

The sound was deafening. The glass shattered into thousands of shards, sparkling like ice in sunlight, mirroring the splintering of my control.

I didn't feel the cuts on my knuckles. Didn't feel anything except *rage*. Pure, annihilating **rage**.

How dare they? How dare anyone point a fucking weapon at *her*?

She had nothing to do with my world of blood, betrayal, and boardrooms. She was light. Soft. Pure. My **Ishi**. The girl who tied my heart with her *dupatta* in a gurudwara.

And now these bastards want to *use* her?

I started pacing, my steps heavy, loud, crunching on the glass. **Chest heaving. Breath short.**

I wanted blood.

**Laksh:** **"Sir!"** Laksh came running in, eyes wide as he saw the glass and my feral intensity. **"What the hell happened?! Rudra sir-you're bleeding!"**

I ignored the blood dripping from my fist. **Rudra:** **"Lock the studio shoot down."** My voice was a low growl, controlled but laced with violence.

**Laksh:** **"What-?"**

**Rudra:** **"NOW, Laksh. Get my men there. Quiet. No noise. No panic. She shouldn't even *suspect* anything. Find that man and stop the shoot. I want that gun taken off the field. Move!"**

He hesitated for a split second, then the training took over. **Laksh:** **"Understood, Sir. Activating the immediate response team. Target location locked."** He picked up his phone immediately.

I turned back to the broken glass. **Hands trembling. Mind racing.**

She was on set. Smiling. **Standing near death - and didn't even know it.**

And I... I was locked in this office like a coward.

**Rudra** (Inner Monologue): *I want to go to her. Grab her. Hold her. Take her far, far away. Where no one, not even God, could reach. But I can't. Not yet.*

**Laksh:** **"Sir, we're on it,"** Laksh said behind me, his voice calm now, efficient. **"Your private team is already en route. They will find the man. What do we do with him?"**

I looked down at the paperweight, now lying near the broken glass.

**Rudra:** **"Bring him to me. Alive. I want him to know exactly why he is suffering. No one hurts what's mine, Laksh. No one."**

I couldn't let her see me like this. Not bleeding. Not shaking. Not broken.

Because she still looked at me like I was some *unbreakable* man.

But I swear on every breath in my body - if even a *strand* of her hair is harmed...

**Rudra:** **"I will become *everything* they fear I am. Worse. Get me a clear flight path to the nearest available secure location. I am taking her out of this city the moment this threat is neutralized."**

[Ishita Sharma's Perspective - ]**

*Photo Studio | Mid-Shoot*

The lights are warm, the fan is catching my hair perfectly, and I am smiling, feeling beautiful and professional. It's a great shoot. I adjust my pose, focused entirely on the camera lens.

Suddenly, the whole set seems to freeze.

**Laksh**, Rudra's Chief of Staff, the most composed man on the planet, walks onto the set. His usual calm is strained, and his eyes dart around quickly. He walks straight up to me, ignoring the bewildered photographer.

**Laksh:** **"Ishita Ma'am, I apologize for the interruption. But we need to stop this immediately."** His voice is low, urgent, and professional, but his hands are clenching at his sides.

**Ishita:** **"Laksh? What's going on? Is everything okay with the company?"** I ask, stepping down from the platform. **"This is a priority client, Laksh. We're almost done."**

**Laksh:** **"Ma'am, this is non-negotiable. I have orders. I need you to pack up right now and come with me."** He avoids my eyes, which is incredibly unlike him.

**Ishita:** **"Orders? From who? Is it Ru? Did something happen to him? Is he hurt?"** My heart starts hammering, immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion. Rudra's earlier distance suddenly feels like a terrifying premonition.

**Laksh:** **"Mr. Rathor is fine, Ma'am. He is extremely busy. He just requires you to leave now. Please, we do not have time for questions."** **He didn't tell anything** concrete, just repeating the demand.

I glance around the studio. Two unfamiliar, extremely large men in black suits have quietly moved toward the exits. They are clearly **bodyguards**.

**Ishita:** **"Laksh, what the hell is happening? Tell me what's wrong! Why the bodyguards?"**

**Laksh:** **"I cannot discuss the details, Ma'am. I was explicitly instructed to simply ensure your safe transit home. Your car is waiting. Let's go."** He gently takes my arm, the gesture formal but insistent.

I feel a cold, knotting fear in my stomach. Rudra is clearly fighting a battle he won't tell me about.

**I let him help me to get in the car**. He opens the back door and practically pushes me inside. The two bodyguards slide into the front seats.

**Ishita:** (I lean forward, looking at Laksh through the glass.) **"Tell Rudra I am calling him the moment I get home, Laksh. And tell him if he doesn't answer, I'm coming straight to his office."**

Laksh simply nods, his expression grim. **"Understood, Ma'am. Drive."** He shuts the door, and the car speeds away, **sending me home** under heavy guard. I spend the entire ride staring out the window, terrified and confused.