Chapter 7: The Symphony of Lead
"Get your hands off her!"
The roar didn't sound human. It was a primal, predatory sound that tore through the neon haze of the VIP lounge. Before Rohan Singhal could even tighten his grip on my throat, the world exploded.
Advik didn't just enter the room; he decimated it.
The muzzle flashes of his gun were the only light, rhythmic and lethal. Every time the darkness broke, I saw him—a god of vengeance in a tailored suit, moving through a hail of bullets as if he were made of smoke.
Rohan panicked, yanking me back toward the exit, his fingers bruising my skin. "I'll kill her, Malhotra! I swear to God—"
"Then you'll die screaming," Advik's voice sliced through the air, closer than before.
A bullet whined past my ear, hitting the guard behind Rohan. I felt the spray of warmth on my shoulder and didn't wait. I slammed my elbow into Rohan's ribs and bit down on his hand with every ounce of my terror. He cursed, his grip faltering for a split second.
I dove for the floor just as Advik vaulted over a velvet sofa.
He didn't go for Rohan first. He went for me. He shielded my body with his own, his heavy, muscular frame acting as a human fortress. The scent of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and raw gunpowder overwhelmed my senses.
"I've got you," he growled against my ear, his heart thundering against my back. "Don't you dare close your eyes."
He pivoted on one knee, firing three rounds into the shadows. The screams of the Singhal soldiers were cut short. Advik didn't stop until the only sound left in the room was the hiss of the sprinkler system and the ragged edge of our breathing.
He stood up, hauling me with him, his hand gripping my waist so hard it felt like he was trying to mark the bone. He looked down at me, his eyes blown wide, his face splattered with blood.
"If they had touched you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, dark possessiveness, "I would have burned this entire city to the ground just to find your ghost."
The Next Day: The Ghost of the Heart
The morning sun over the Malhotra estate was blindingly bright, a cruel contrast to the blood-red night I had survived. I sat in the glass-walled gazebo, staring at the tea I couldn't drink. My body was safe, but my mind was a war zone.
"Ananya?"
The voice was a ghost. It was soft, melodic, and held the echoes of a life where I was still innocent.
I turned, and the cup shattered on the marble floor.
"Aman?"
He was standing at the edge of the garden, looking exactly like the day I had last seen him—before the debt, before the death, before Advik. Aman was the man I was supposed to marry. The man I had loved with every beat of my heart for four years.
"I found you," he breathed, stepping into the shade. His eyes were full of a desperate, aching love that made my soul ache. "Ananya, I've been looking everywhere. I heard what he did... how he forced you..."
I couldn't help it. I ran. I crashed into him, and for a moment, the scent of gunpowder was replaced by the familiar smell of Aman's cologne and old books. He was my "home." He was the version of me that wasn't broken.
"I'm taking you away," Aman whispered, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs wiping away the tears I didn't know were falling. "I have a car waiting. I have the papers. We can leave tonight, Ananya. I still love you. I never stopped."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. "Tell me you still love me. Tell me you want to go home."
"I..." My voice failed me. I looked at Aman, the man who represented peace.
And then I felt it. That familiar, heavy chill in the air.
I looked up at the balcony of the master suite. Advik was standing there, his black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He didn't have a gun. He didn't have his men.
He just had that look—the look of a man who had walked through hell to save me last night, and who was now watching me hold the man who had let me go.
"Go ahead, Ananya," Advik's voice carried across the garden, low and lethal. "Tell him. Tell him who you belonged to when the bullets were flying. Tell him whose name you whispered when you thought you were dying."
Aman flinched, but he didn't let go of my hands. "Don't listen to him, Ananya! He's a monster!"
Advik slowly walked down the stone stairs, his eyes locked on mine, ignoring Aman as if he were a fly. He stopped three feet away, the scent of smoke swirling around us.
"He offers you a life of shadows and hiding," Advik said, his gaze burning into mine with a fierce, jealous heat. "I offer you a kingdom built on the bodies of your enemies. Choose, Jaan. The man who loves the girl you used to be... or the man who owns the woman you've become."