!!Story Time!!
*Justin's POV*
The night had quieted. Finally.
The chaos, the sirens, the blur of movement—it was all behind us now. I sat on the edge of the hospital cot, my shirt stained with dried blood, the bandages tight around my ribs, and the sterile scent of antiseptic thick in the air. But all I really noticed… was her.
Radhika stood by the window. Her reflection shimmered in the glass, haloed by the soft orange glow of the streetlights outside. Her jacket was off now, hair slightly undone, but her stance hadn't relaxed. There was tension in her shoulders. Worry she hadn't spoken aloud yet.
"You've barely said a word since we got here," I murmured.
She turned slowly, her eyes locking with mine—and there it was. The storm. She walked over, knelt down in front of me, and placed her hand on my knee.
"I almost lost you today, Justin," she said quietly. "And the worst part? I *felt* it. The moment you vanished, I knew something was wrong in my bones."
"I tried to fight," I said, my voice raw. "But they—"
She pressed her finger gently to my lips. "You don't need to explain. You survived. That's all that matters to me right now."
A silence settled between us—but not the uncomfortable kind. It was… sacred. Like the world had narrowed down to just this room, just this breath between us.
I reached for her hand. She let me hold it. And for a moment, neither of us said anything.
Then I whispered, "You came for me."
Her eyes softened. "Of course I did."
"No, Radhika," I said, sitting forward. "You don't get it. You came in like a storm. Like fire in your eyes. I've seen trained soldiers freeze in situations like that, and you—" I paused, overwhelmed. "You didn't hesitate."
"I couldn't," she replied. "You're not just someone I love, Justin. You're a part of me now. And I protect what's mine."
A lump formed in my throat. I tried to speak, failed, then tried again.
"I've never had someone fight for me like that."
She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes now. "And I never thought I'd have to." She leaned in and rested her forehead against mine. "But if it means keeping you safe, I'll do it a thousand times over."
The beeping of the machines around us faded. The hospital walls dissolved.
And in that fragile, perfect stillness, I whispered, "I love you."
She kissed me then. Not with desperation—but with promise. Soft, lingering, and real. Like we were stitching the broken pieces back together, one heartbeat at a time.
When we pulled apart, she looked at me with something close to mischief in her eyes.
"You know," she said, brushing her thumb along my jaw, "next time we try to go on a date, let's skip the kidnapping part."
I chuckled, even though it hurt. "Deal. But only if you promise not to show up in combat boots again."
Her eyes sparkled. "No promises."
---
______________________
Sahil P.O.V
Certainly. Here is your scene rewritten in advanced, novel-style English, blending mystery, emotion, and romance:
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It had taken so long—too long—for life to finally feel normal again with Ishika. After everything we'd been through, the heartbreak, the misunderstandings… we had found our way back to each other. And just when the skies had begun to clear, a new storm had rolled in.
Justin's kidnapping struck like lightning out of nowhere. It rattled us. Confused us. Made us question everything.
Who is the real mastermind behind all this?
One by one, it felt like we were being targeted—each of us, in different ways. First Dev and Gulafsha… then Ishika and me… and now Justin. It's as if someone is hiding in plain sight, watching our every move, pulling strings in the shadows. And the most terrifying part? We still have no idea who it is.
For now, at least, Justin is stable. His condition has improved, and the doctors say he may be discharged tomorrow. That alone is a relief, a small piece of hope in this puzzle of uncertainty.
And tomorrow night, Ishika and I will finally leave for Italy.
Everything is packed. Tickets booked. Our bags are by the door, and my heart is racing—not with fear this time, but with anticipation. I've been counting the hours, waiting for the sun to rise. I promised Ishika I would show her every corner of Italy—from the vineyards of Tuscany to the canals of Venice. And I will.
We've decided something else, too—something bigger.
We're going to have a white wedding in Italy.
Not right away. Not yet. First, we'll speak to her family—my family now—and make sure they're with us. But the dream has been planted. And it's growing.
For now, we just want to escape—to breathe, to wander, to love without fear. Dev and Gulafsha might join us later for their honeymoon. But for the next few days, Italy will be ours alone.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thoughts that seemed to flicker like candlelight—flickering between joy and unease—when I heard the soft creak of the bathroom door.
I looked up.
Ishika stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around her. Her hair was still wet, strands clinging to her neck and shoulders. Droplets glistened on her skin like tiny jewels, shimmering in the golden light that filtered through the curtains. Her presence stilled the chaos in my mind.
For a moment, the world went quiet.
Her.
Ishika
Rome was quiet that night.
Too quiet.
She didn't say a word. She didn't have to. Her arms slid around my waist from behind, her touch warm, grounding me. I closed my eyes.
How many nights had I imagined this?
Her breath was on my back, steady, calm… and I envied her for it. Because inside me, nothing was still. Nothing was silent.
I turned to face her, and there she stood—wrapped in a white towel, skin damp from the shower, her hair clinging to her shoulders like silk. Drops of water rolled down her collarbone, catching the light like stars slipping from a night sky. She looked like a dream. A dangerous, beautiful dream.
"You're quiet," she whispered.
"I'm thinking," I replied.
"Still about him?"
"No… not just him. About us. About everything that's still waiting in the shadows."
Her eyes softened, and in them I saw that same haunting vulnerability that mirrored mine. We were both carrying scars. Some visible. Most not.
I reached out and touched her face—gently, like I was afraid she'd vanish. Her skin was warm beneath my hand, but it was her eyes that pulled me under. I kissed her. Not out of lust. Out of desperation. Out of need. Out of something too deep and too broken to name.
We moved without speaking, drawn to the bed like two tides colliding in the dark. Her towel fell, and I looked at her—really looked. She wasn't just beautiful. She was bruised. Like me. And somehow, in the middle of all that pain, she still chose me.
My hands moved along her body, memorizing every inch. Her breath hitched, and so did mine. When we came together, it wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was raw. Fierce. Like two souls trying to burn away everything they had lost. Every lie. Every secret. Every shadow.
Her nails dug into my back. I welcomed the pain.
Our bodies moved in sync—slow, then frantic. As if time had collapsed and only this moment existed. A storm of skin and silence. Moans swallowed by the night.
But even then, even wrapped in her, some part of me couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
Not by eyes, but by fate.
Like someone—or something—was waiting for us to fall again.
When it was over, I lay beside her, listening to her breath. My arm draped over her stomach. Her head rested on my chest. She was asleep within minutes.
But I wasn't.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling the darkness curl just outside the window. And I knew—this peace wouldn't last. Not yet.
Because somewhere out there, in that same silence that now surrounded us… the real enemy was still watching.
---
After 2 week
Dev P.O.V
Two weeks had passed since Gulafsha and I said our vows, and though we had planned our honeymoon long ago, fate had other ideas. Justin's kidnapping had thrown everything into chaos—our hearts, our plans, our peace. But now\... now, the storm had passed.
Justin had made a full recovery. The culprits—Thakur, Sakshi, and Priya—were in custody. And life, for the first time in weeks, had slowed down. The wedding frenzy was behind us, the constant flow of relatives had finally begun to ebb, and for the first time, Gulafsha and I could simply be together.
We were finally leaving for Italy. Just the two of us. The idea of wandering cobblestone streets, of sipping espresso under golden skies with her hand in mine—it finally felt real. And though our bodies were tired, our souls were ready.
Yet even in this calm, one shadow remained.
The mastermind. The one no one had seen. The one who had orchestrated every move, every betrayal. We had caught his pawns—but the king still sat in the dark.
That's what makes him dangerous. There is no face. No name. No slip-up. The people we captured—Thakur, Sakshi, Priya—they had no idea who they were really working for. It was like chasing a ghost through a hall of mirrors.
Still, I've chosen not to let that fear rule me. Not now. Not when I have her beside me.
Sahil and Ishika are already in Italy, sending us photos and teasing us to join them soon. And it seems Radhika and Justin are thinking of coming too. Because Justin want Radhika to meet his mother and tell them everything about there love
I had laughed, promising her I'd personally pack his bags if needed.
But beneath the laughter, beneath the planning, there's a strange feeling in the air. Like the eye of a hurricane. Everything is quiet. Too quiet.
And somewhere, the real enemy is still watching.
But for now—just for now—I'll hold her hand a little tighter, and lose myself in the warmth of her smile, in the beauty of a moment that, finally, feels like ours.
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Thank you