I was in my office at Delhi, flipping through a stack of documents, my focus barely on the words printed on the pages. The buzzing air conditioner hummed in the background, but my mind was elsewhere. Something was off—deeply, disturbingly off—and I didn’t like it.

A few days ago, I had received another email from an unknown sender. It wasn’t the first, but this one sent a chill down my spine. And this was my only reason to handle my business from here until I ensured that she was safe.

What confused me even more was how anyone could dare to target her when only a handful of people knew she was my wife. We had kept our relationship hidden, shielded from the world, yet somehow, someone had found her and was tracking her movements. The thought sent a surge of rage through me, but more than that, it terrified me.

She is mine—my jaan, my life—and I’ve done everything to keep her safe from the shadows of my world. How could someone even think of using her against me? The idea alone was enough to make my blood boil.

I’ve always been careful, keeping her away from the dangers of my life, never letting my enemies know about her existence. And now, even without being exposed, she’s being dragged into this mess. The thought of introducing her to my world, of letting her step into the chaos and risks I navigate daily, is unbearable.

I won’t let anyone hurt her. She’s too precious to me. If someone even dares to come close to her, they’ll face consequences they can’t even imagine. She’s my everything, and I’ll destroy anyone who threatens her.

The email contained photographs of Divya. She was out shopping, dressed in a simple kurta, her hair tied loosely, looking as unassuming as ever. The photos weren’t casual snapshots—they were calculated. Close-ups of her smile, the way she held her dupatta, the exact moment she handed cash to a vendor.

And below the photographs, a message:

"She is mine, Mr. Rajput."

The words replayed in my head, over and over, like a haunting echo. Whoever sent it wanted me to know they were watching her. That they were close enough to reach her.

That night, when I called her to check if she was fine, she didn’t pick up. Panic consumed me, and my mind spiraled with fear. The thought of something happening to her was unbearable.

These kinds of threats kept coming—her pictures, taken when she was out with her friends, attached to anonymous messages. Each one was a reminder of the danger she faced.

I couldn’t take the risk anymore. My jaan's life was too precious. That’s why I decided to come here—to run my business from Delhi. Staying here would not only ensure her safety but also keep her close to me.

I glanced at the clock—it was 6 in the evening. Aman told me, to deliver his investigation report by now, and I was growing impatient. A sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said, my voice steady but firm.

The door opened, and Aman stepped inside, holding a file in his hand. His expression was serious, and I knew he had something important to share.

“Sir, we tried to track the email address,” Aman began, placing the file on my desk. “It was sent using a disposable email service, making it nearly impossible to trace the sender directly. However, we did manage to trace the IP address to a location in this city—a café in the old market area.”

I leaned back in my chair, processing the information. "Aman, I want every detail about that café—its owner, regular customers, everything. I want surveillance set up immediately. Whoever is behind this won't escape."

Aman nodded, handing me the file. "I’ve already assigned a team to investigate further. We should have more information by tomorrow morning."

"Good," I said, my voice cold and firm. My mind raced with possibilities. Whoever was targeting her was playing a dangerous game. Using her against me was equivalent to inviting their doom.

As Aman left, I picked up the file and opened it, scanning the contents. My fists clenched as I saw her picture—innocent, carefree, and oblivious to the danger lurking around her. My jaw tightened.

"I won't let anything happen to you, jaan," I muttered under my breath. "You're mine to protect, and I'll burn the world if I have to."

With a deep breath, I set the file aside and stood up, walking to the window. The city lights were starting to flicker on as the evening darkened. My resolve solidified. Whoever dared to mess with her would soon learn what it meant to cross me.

I never knew she would become this important to me.

When we first got married, it was nothing more than a sudden twist of fate. I didn’t think much of it then—just another responsibility, another secret to guard. But somewhere along the line, she became more than just a part of my life. She became my life.

Her laugh, her shy glances, the way she fiddled with her dupatta when she was nervous—every little thing about her had started to matter. She was my jaan, my peace in a world full of chaos.

But now, because of me, she was in danger. The thought of someone using her to get to me made my blood boil. She had nothing to do with my world, my enemies, my battles. And yet, she was dragged into it just because she was mine.

I leaned back in my chair, gripping the armrests so hard my knuckles turned white. How could I have been so careless? How could I let anyone find out about her?

I swore to myself that day, no matter what it took, I would protect her. If the world wanted to come after me, fine. Let them try. But if anyone dared to lay a hand on her, they’d wish they had never crossed my path.

🌸

Aarav’s POV

It was past midnight, and the cabin was silent except for the faint sound of the clock ticking. I was finishing up some work, my focus sharp despite the late hour.

That’s when my phone buzzed, Vivaan’s name flashing on the screen. My brows furrowed as I answered.

“Hello.”

“Aarav, I got to know something about the threats,” Vivaan said, his tone grim.

My grip on the phone tightened. “Go on,” I said, my attention now completely on him.

“You remember Natasha?”

My jaw clenched. “Yes.”

“I think she’s behind all this,” he said, his voice laced with certainty.

For a moment, the world around me seemed to freeze. Natasha. The same woman I had suspected months ago. The same woman who had no business being near my life, let alone Divya’s.

“Explain,” I demanded, my voice dangerously calm.

Vivaan didn’t hesitate. “Natasha has been in contact with Khanna. I didn’t think much of it initially, but now it all makes sense. The timing, the threats, her sudden interest in your personal life... It’s all connected.”

My anger simmered beneath the surface, ready to explode. “If she’s behind this, she’ll regret ever crossing me.”

Vivaan hesitated. “What do you want to do?”

I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing. “First, confirm it. I want solid proof before I deal with her. And Vivaan...”

“Yes?”

“Make sure Divya stays out of this. I don’t want her to know.”

Vivaan sighed. “I’ll handle it. Don't  worry ..But Aarav, this isn’t just about you anymore. Be careful.”

The call ended, but the storm inside me only grew stronger. Natasha had made a mistake—a mistake that would cost her everything. And Khanna? He was next.

No one messes with what’s mine.

My phone buzzed again, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Aman’s name flashed on the screen. Without wasting a second, I picked up.

“yes,” I said, my voice sharp.

“Sir, we’ve captured someone,” Aman said. “may be he is one of Khanna’s men. He was spotted following Divya ma'am the other day.”

A cold rage settled in my chest. “Where is he now?”

“He’s restrained and in the basement of your office,” Aman replied. “I thought it best to inform you before taking any further steps.”

“Good,” I said, my tone icy. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Keep him alive—I want answers.”

I ended the call and grabbed my coat, the anger in my chest turning into a dangerous calm. Divya’s safety had been compromised, and now it was time to make an example of anyone who dared to think they could harm her.

🌸

The basement was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. As I entered, my footsteps echoed against the concrete walls. Aman stood by the door, his expression unreadable, but the man tied to the chair in the center of the room looked visibly shaken.

“Leave us,” I ordered Aman.

He nodded and stepped out with all other men, closing the heavy door behind him. The man in the chair squirmed, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

I walked toward him slowly, my movements deliberate. “You were following my wife,” I said, my voice low but laced with menace.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, trying to feign innocence.

I leaned down, meeting his gaze. “Wrong answer.”

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I yanked him forward, forcing him to look into my eyes. “Who sent you? What were you planning to do?”

The man shook his head, his lips sealed. I could see the fear in his eyes, but fear alone wouldn’t loosen his tongue.

“Staying silent won’t save you,” I said, stepping back. My voice turned colder. “It’ll only make things worse.”

I picked up the metal rod Aman had left on the table, letting it drag against the floor as I approached him again. The sound alone made the man tremble.

“I’ll ask one last time,” I said, raising the rod. “Who sent you?”

When he still refused to answer, I struck the chair beside him, the loud clang echoing in the room.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air, mixing with the man’s muffled cries. My knuckles throbbed from the repeated blows, but I didn’t stop. His face was swollen, blood dripping from his split lip onto the cold concrete floor. My shirt was smeared with his blood, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the truth.

“You think you can mess with her and walk away alive?” I hissed, grabbing his collar and yanking him upright. “Do you even understand who you’ve crossed?”

He whimpered, trying to speak, but his words were garbled. I slammed him back into the chair, his head snapping to the side from the impact.

“Aman!” I shouted, not taking my eyes off the man.

Aman stepped forward, handing me a length of thick chain. I wrapped it around my hand, the cold metal biting into my skin. “You’ve wasted enough of my time,” I said, my voice deadly calm.

I lashed the chain against his leg, the sharp sound of impact echoing in the room. His scream was guttural, raw with pain.

“Tell me,” I commanded, swinging the chain again, this time across his arm. He writhed, but the restraints held him in place.

“Please! I-I don’t know much!” he finally gasped, tears mixing with the blood on his face.

“Not good enough.” I grabbed a knife from the table, the blade gleaming under the harsh light. Leaning close, I pressed it against his shoulder, just enough to pierce the skin.

He howled, his body convulsing. “It wasn’t Khanna! It wasn’t him!”

My grip on the knife tightened, and my jaw clenched. “Then who?” I growled, pressing the blade deeper.

“I don’t know the name! I swear!” he cried. “All I know is someone sent money and a photo of her. They wanted me to keep tabs on her and report back. That’s all!”

“How did they contact you?” I demanded, my voice dangerously low.

“They... they used an encrypted number,” he stammered. “No names, no direct contact. Just instructions.”

I pulled the knife away and threw it onto the table, the clatter echoing through the room. My chest heaved as I tried to control the rage coursing through me.

“Take him away,” I ordered Aman, stepping back. “I want every detail from him, no matter how small. And keep him alive—I’m not done with him yet.”

Aman nodded, dragging the limp man out of the room. I stood there for a moment, my bloodied fists clenched at my sides, my mind racing.

This wasn’t Khanna. This was someone else. Someone who knew too much. Someone who dared to target her.

Whoever they were, they had just signed their death warrant.

--------

I stepped out of the basement, my shirt stiff with dried blood, clinging to my skin. The air outside was lighter, but the weight of what had just happened sat heavy on my chest. My knuckles throbbed, but the pain didn’t bother me—I was used to it.

Without a word, I walked to the washroom attached to my cabin's room, shutting the door behind me. The harsh light and pristine tiles felt worlds apart from the chaos I’d just left behind. I unbuttoned my ruined shirt and tossed it into the trash, watching the bloodstains disappear from my sight.

Turning the tap, I let the icy water run over my hands and splashed it onto my face. The cold didn’t numb the fire inside me, the storm brewing with every thought of her. My wife... Someone had dared to follow her, to put her in harm’s way. My blood boiled just thinking about it.

I caught my reflection in the mirror—reddened knuckles, sharp features, and an edge of weariness in my eyes.

Divya didn’t belong in this darkness, but if anyone tried to drag her into it, I’d become their worst nightmare.

Because when it comes to her, there is no limit to what I’ll do. No line I won’t cross.

.

.

.

As I buttoned up a fresh shirt, the stark contrast of the moment hit me hard. My knuckles were still slightly red from the force I’d used, and the faint scent of soap clung to me, masking the metallic stench that had soaked into my skin earlier. I glanced at the clock—1 a.m.—but the weight of what I’d done tonight didn’t let me feel the exhaustion.

Just as I reached for my keys, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Her name flashed on the screen, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

“Kaha hai aap?” Divya’s voice, soft and full of concern, reached me like a balm on a wound I didn’t even realize I had.

“ham bas aa rahe hainn,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Aap so jaaye.”

“Nahi... hame neend nahi aa rahi. Aap jaldi aaiye,” she said, and something in her tone tugged at me, cutting through the chaos of my mind.

When the call ended, I stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen. How could someone so pure, so untouched by the darkness of this world, be tied to someone like me? I had just washed the blood of another man off my hands—blood I had spilled without hesitation—and yet, on the other end of the line, she waited for me. Her world was untouched by the ruthlessness I lived in, and I was determined to keep it that way.

Divya was everything I wasn’t—innocent, gentle, and untainted by the shadows that surrounded me. The thought of her waiting for me, unaware of the lengths I’d go to protect her, made my chest tighten. I didn’t deserve her, not with what I’d done tonight, but I couldn’t let her go either.

As I stepped out into the night, the cool air hit me, but it did nothing to quell the fire inside. She was my light in a world consumed by darkness, and I would do whatever it took to ensure that her purity remained untouched—even if it meant staining my soul beyond redemption.

__________________________

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