The morning felt… normal.
Too normal.
After everything—
Kabir.
Anaya.
The threats.
It shouldn't have been this quiet.
But it was.
Sunlight filled the room.
Meher sat on the couch—
scrolling her phone.
Aarav stood near the window—
on a call.
His voice low.
Serious.
"Security tight rakho," he said.
(Keep security tight.)
"No mistakes."
He ended the call—
turning toward her.
And for a moment—
everything felt… okay.
"Breakfast kiya?" he asked.
(Have you eaten?)
She looked up—
smiling slightly.
"Abhi karti hoon."
(I'll have it now.)
He walked closer—
sitting beside her.
"Main laata hoon."
(I'll bring it.)
She rolled her eyes.
"I can do it myself."
"I know."
"Then let me."
"No."
She laughed softly.
"Still the same."
"Always."
For a few minutes—
they just sat there.
Calm.
Close.
Then—
the doorbell rang.
Both of them paused.
Aarav's eyes shifted instantly.
Alert.
"Main dekh ke aata hoon," he said.
(I'll check.)
But Meher stood up first.
"I'll open it."
"Meher—"
"Relax," she smiled,
"main yahin hoon."
(I'm right here.)
Aarav hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then nodded.
She walked toward the door.
Slowly.
Casually.
Nothing felt wrong.
She opened it.
And for a second—
everything was normal.
No one stood there.
"Hello?" she said—
stepping slightly forward.
That was the mistake.
A shadow moved.
Fast.
Before she could react—
a hand grabbed her.
A cloth pressed over her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
She tried to scream—
but couldn't.
Within seconds—
her vision blurred.
Her body weakened.
And everything went dark.
Inside—
Aarav frowned.
"Meher?"
No response.
"Meher."
Still nothing.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
He stood up instantly—
walking toward the door.
Fast.
"Meher—"
He stepped outside—
and froze.
The door—
was open.
The street—
empty.
No sign of her.
His heartbeat dropped.
"MEHER!"
No answer.
He ran forward—
looking around—
checking every direction.
Nothing.
Just silence.
Then—
his eyes landed on something.
On the ground.
A small object.
Her bracelet.
Broken.
Aarav picked it up slowly—
his hand tightening around it.
And in that moment—
everything inside him went still.
Too still.
Because now—
his biggest fear—
had happened.
She was gone.
And this time—
it wasn't a warning.
It was real.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered instantly.
Silence.
Then—
Kabir's voice.
"Mil gayi na?"
(Found her?)
Aarav's grip tightened.
"If you touch her—"
Kabir laughed.
"Abhi toh start hua hai."
(It has just started.)
A pause.
Then—
Anaya's voice.
Soft.
Cold.
"Come find her, Aarav."
The call disconnected.
Aarav stood there—
completely still.
Then slowly—
his expression changed.
No panic.
No fear.
Just something darker.
Deadly calm.
"Game khatam," he whispered.
(The game ends now.)
Because now—
this wasn't about protection.
This was about war.The moment the call ended—
Aarav didn't waste a second.
Not one.
His grip tightened around the broken bracelet—
and then—
he moved.
Fast.
Within minutes—
the house was no longer quiet.
Phones rang.
Orders flew.
People ran.
Aarav stood in the center—
completely still on the outside—
but inside?
A storm.
"Har checkpoint alert karo," he said sharply.
(Alert every checkpoint.)
"City exit block chahiye."
(I want city exits blocked.)
"No delay."
Another call.
"Police coordination chahiye abhi."
(I need police coordination now.)
Another.
"Private security teams—deploy everywhere."
Names.
Places.
Commands.
Everything moved—
because of him.
Within an hour—
the entire city was awake.
Not normally.
But urgently.
Search units.
Surveillance.
Calls going out to officials—
from station-level officers—
to higher authorities.
Because this wasn't just a missing person now.
This was something bigger.
And at the center of it—
was Aarav.
He stepped into his car.
Door slammed.
Engine roared.
The speed climbed instantly.
Too fast.
Too dangerous.
Behind him—
vehicles followed.
One.
Two.
Five.
Then many more.
A moving line—
cutting through the roads.
Inside the car—
Aarav's eyes stayed fixed ahead.
Sharp.
Unblinking.
"Location trace?" he said through the call.
"Still trying, sir."
"Try harder."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it was enough.
The car turned sharply—
almost sliding—
but never stopping.
"Camera footage pull karo."
(Get the camera footage.)
"Last 30 minutes."
"Every street."
"Yes, sir."
Another turn.
Another road.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
And under his breath—
almost unconsciously—
he whispered—
"Meher…"
Again.
"Meher…"
Like a rhythm.
Like a prayer.
Because for him—
this wasn't just searching.
This was… needing her back.
At any cost.
The city blurred past.
Lights.
Shadows.
Noise.
But none of it reached him.
Because his mind—
was stuck on one thing.
Her.
Her voice.
Her face.
Her last smile.
And the moment she disappeared.
His jaw tightened.
"Mil jao…" he whispered.
(Just be found…)
The convoy moved faster.
Cutting through traffic.
Clearing roads.
Calls kept coming.
"Sir, ek lead mili hai—"
(Sir, we got a lead—)
"Location bhejo."
(Send the location.)
"Sir, suspicious vehicle spotted—"
"Track it."
Everything moved.
Because he refused to stop.
His eyes—
now darker.
More intense.
Not wild.
But focused.
Because this time—
he wasn't just protecting.
He was hunting for the truth.
And bringing her back.
No matter what stood in the way.Darkness came back slowly.
Heavy.
Blurred.
Meher's head throbbed.
Her body felt weak—
unsteady—
like it didn't belong to her.
She tried to move—
but something held her back.
Her wrists—
tied.
Her eyes opened fully now.
Dim light.
An unfamiliar room.
Cold walls.
Silence.
Her breath quickened.
"Aarav…" she whispered.
No answer.
Fear crept in—
slow—
but sharp.
She pulled slightly against the ropes—
but stopped immediately.
It hurt.
"Don't struggle," a voice came from the corner.
Meher froze.
A figure stepped forward.
Kabir.
Her heartbeat spiked.
He looked at her—
calm.
Too calm.
"Finally awake," he said.
She didn't respond.
Just stared.
"Strong ho," he added.
(You're strong.)
She swallowed—
forcing her voice out.
"Why… am I here?"
Kabir smiled faintly.
"Simple."
A pause.
"Tum uski weakness ho."
(You are his weakness.)
Her fingers tightened.
"Tumhe use karke…"
(Using you…)
"…main Aarav ko todunga."
(I will break Aarav.)
Silence filled the room again.
Meher shook her head slightly.
"He'll find me."
Kabir chuckled.
"Woh already dhoond raha hai."
(He's already searching.)
He stepped closer—
but not too close.
"Poora sheher hila diya usne," he said.
(He's shaken the whole city.)
Her heart skipped.
But before she could react—
another voice entered.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Told you…"
"…he won't stay calm."
Meher's breath stopped.
Anaya.
She stepped into the light.
Calm.
Cold.
Meher stared at her—
confused—
hurt—
angry.
"You…" she whispered.
Anaya smiled faintly.
"Don't take it personally."
Meher's voice shook—
but stayed firm.
"You betrayed him."
Anaya's expression didn't change.
"I chose myself."
Silence.
Kabir stepped back slightly—
watching both of them.
"Ab dekhte hain…" he said,
(Now let's see…)
"…kitna waqt lagta hai usse tum tak pahunchne mein."
(…how long it takes him to reach you.)
Meher closed her eyes for a moment.
Breathing in.
Steadying herself.
Because fear—
was there.
But so was something else.
Trust.
"He'll come," she said softly.
Kabir smiled.
"Isi liye toh yeh game interesting hai."
(That's what makes this game interesting.)🖤 Meanwhile…
The car didn't slow down.
Not even once.
"Aur fast," Aarav said.
(Faster.)
"Sir, limit—"
"Break it."
His eyes were fixed ahead.
Unmoving.
"Location?"
"Tracing, sir."
His grip tightened.
"Meher…" he whispered again.
Not weak.
Not broken.
But determined.
Because somewhere—
he knew.
She was waiting.
And he was coming.The convoy didn't slow.
Not for traffic.
Not for signals.
Nothing mattered.
Except one thing.
Her.
Aarav's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Again.
This time—
he didn't hesitate.
He answered.
No words.
Just silence.
Then—
a message arrived.
Video.
His heart dropped.
For the first time—
his fingers didn't feel steady.
He opened it.
The screen flickered.
Dark.
Then slowly—
the image cleared.
Meher.
Aarav froze.
She was sitting on the floor—
barely holding herself upright.
Her hair—
messy.
Falling over her face.
Her hands—
tied.
Tightly.
Her shoulders slumped—
like all her strength had been drained.
Her lips—
dry.
Her breathing—
slow.
Uneven.
She looked… exhausted.
Not broken.
But pushed too far.
"Aarav…" she whispered in the video—
her voice barely there.
That one word—
was enough.
Something inside him shattered.
Silently.
Behind him—
the convoy kept moving.
Fast.
Loud.
But inside the car—
there was nothing.
Just him.
And her.
The video continued.
The camera shifted slightly.
And then—
Kabir's voice.
"Dekha?"
(You saw?)
Aarav's jaw tightened.
"Time kam hai," Kabir continued.
(Time is limited.)
A pause.
"Jitni jaldi aaoge…"
(The faster you come…)
"…utna better hoga."
(…the better it will be.)
The video ended.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Aarav didn't move.
Didn't blink.
His hand slowly tightened around the phone.
Then—
he whispered—
"Meher…"
This time—
not like a prayer.
Like a promise.
The driver looked at him through the mirror—
hesitant.
"Sir…"
Aarav finally spoke.
"Location trace karo."
(Trace the location.)
"Abhi."
"Yes, sir."
His eyes lifted—
now completely changed.
No hesitation.
No softness.
Just focus.
Sharp.
Deadly.
Because now—
he had seen her.
And that was enough.
"Kabir…" he muttered.
A pause.
"Galti kar di tumne."
(You made a mistake.)
His grip tightened.
"Ab main aa raha hoon."
(Now I'm coming.)
The car sped faster.
The convoy followed.
And this time—
Aarav wasn't just searching.
He was coming for her.The room felt heavier with every passing second.
The air—
dry.
Still.
Meher's breathing had slowed—
but not peacefully.
Weak.
Unsteady.
Her lips parted slightly—
"Paani…" she whispered.
(Water…)
Her voice barely carried.
Almost lost in the silence.
For a moment—
no one moved.
Kabir stood at a distance—
watching.
Calm.
Detached.
Anaya leaned against the wall—
arms crossed.
Observing.
Meher tried again—
"Please…"
Her head lowered slightly—
her strength slipping.
A glass was placed nearby.
Close enough to see.
But not to reach.
A small reminder—
of control.
Her fingers moved weakly—
trying to stretch forward—
but the ropes held her back.
The distance felt impossible.
Her breath hitched.
And slowly—
her body gave in.
Her head dropped to the side—
her eyes closing—
losing the fight to stay conscious.🖤 Meanwhile…
The car roared through the streets.
Faster than before.
Aarav's phone was still in his hand.
The video—
paused on her face.
That one moment—
her whisper—
"Paani…"
It echoed.
Again.
And again.
His jaw tightened.
"Kitni der?" he asked sharply.
(How long?)
"Almost there, sir."
"Not almost."
"Exact bolo."
(Be exact.)
"Ten minutes."
Too long.
Aarav leaned forward slightly—
his voice lower now—
but far more dangerous.
"Five."
Silence in the car.
"Yes, sir."
The speed increased again.
His fingers clenched around the phone—
knuckles turning pale.
Because now—
he had seen enough.
He had heard enough.
And every second—
felt like it was slipping away from him.
"Meher…" he whispered—
this time softer.
Not broken.
But… urgent.
"Bas thoda aur."
(Just a little more.)
Because somewhere deep inside—
he could feel it.
She was holding on.
And he—
was coming.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Stay tuned 😧🥹