The man's boots crunched over the frost-lined pavement as he approached. Dressed in a snug tactical jacket and with blonde hair slicked back unnaturally, he walked like someone who expected attention—and took it, even when it wasn't given. His eyes locked onto Priya as he extended a hand.
"Priya," he said smoothly. "It's been too long. Are you alright?"
She took a subtle step back, avoiding his touch.
Ron noticed the shift instantly. Her spine stiffened. Her eyes, usually calm and guarded, were rimmed with unease. Something in them flickered—not fear, exactly, but a raw discomfort.
Ron's gaze sharpened. His hand tensed. A slow-burning anger began to stir behind his eyes, the kind that didn't scream but simmered—dangerously. Priya felt the shift beside her. She instinctively reached out and placed her hand on his arm, gripping it gently, trying to ground him.
She smiled at the man. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Jonathan," she said with measured politeness. "But as you can see, I'm fine."
Jonathan's mouth curled into a smile—too smooth, too wide. "Oh Priya," he said, eyes scanning her slowly. "How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Jon?"
His gaze dropped to where her hand still held Ron's arm. Something flickered in his expression. Disgust. Possessiveness. Maybe both.
Turning to Ron, Jonathan extended a hand with mock friendliness. "I don't know who you may be, but thank you for protecting my Priya all this time. I'm Jonathan, her SEO."
Priya flinched slightly. Ron felt it. She looked at him nervously, worried he might misunderstand—but Ron's face was unreadable. Calm. Collected. Too calm.
He met Jonathan's eyes. "Oh, hello Mr. Jonathan," Ron said, voice even. "So you're the SEO of the company where my Priya used to work? It's good to finally meet you. Thank you for looking after her."
Jonathan's smug expression faltered.
"Oh. Good… So, you are…?" he began.
"He's ron my husband," Priya said firmly.
Jonathan's eyes narrowed. His smile twitched, but he forced it to stay. "Oh, really? I never knew… you had a husband."
He turned to Ron, his tone shifting. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Ron. I assume you're an evolver too? What's your level?"
Ron gave a thin smile. "Oh, I'm nowhere compared to someone like you."
Jonathan's grin returned, arrogant and dismissive. "Well, not everyone can rise the way I have. Demi-Human level five. Took out fifty human faced dog in a single sweep."
Both Ron and Priya were caught off guard. That kind of power was terrifying—and dangerous in the wrong hands.
Jonathan took a step closer, tone too casual. "If you two don't have a shelter yet, you're welcome to come with me. We've secured Block 2. There's plenty of room."
His gaze slid to the side, where Jiya stood half-hidden behind Priya. She had been silent the entire time, eyes fixed on the ground. Jonathan glanced at her—and said nothing. No recognition. No reaction. But Jiya flinched as if struck.
Priya stepped forward. "Thank you for the offer, Mr. Jonathan," she said tightly. "But we have our home, and we're going back there now."
With that, she gripped Ron's hand and turned, guiding him away. Ron followed without a word, noting the shift in Jonathan's expression—the polite mask dropping for just a second, revealing something darker, something twisted.
As they walked away, Jonathan stood rooted, watching them with a thin, sinister smile.
Behind them, Jiya was trembling. Her shoulders shook with quiet dread. Ron slowed slightly, exchanging a glance with Priya. Not now, his eyes said. Priya gave a faint nod.
Later. Back in the apartment, the cold air clung to the walls. When Jiya turned to slip quietly into her room, Priya gently stopped her.
"Jiya," she said softly, "talk to us. What happened? Why were you so afraid of that man?"
Jiya froze. Then slowly turned to face them. Her lips trembled. And then, without warning, she broke down—silent at first, then sobbing.
Priya wrapped her arms around her. "You're not alone," she whispered. "We're here. Whatever it is… please tell us."
Sniffling and shaking, Jiya finally began to speak.
"I… I used to work for him," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "As his secretary. One night he invited me to his house for a project briefing. He… he drugged me. When I woke up, I was… I was naked. He…"
She choked on the words. "He raped me. All night. And when I told him I'd go to the police, he just laughed. Said he'd kill my parents. Said he had videos. So many videos. Girls like me, unconscious. Some… even younger. He said no one ever hears them scream. Because they all stay quiet in the end."
Ron's fists were clenched. His jaw tightened until it ached.
Jiya wiped her tears, barely able to breathe. "I quit the next day. I thought I was free. I thought that monster died when the world ended. But he's still alive. And now… he's stronger than ever."
Priya held her tightly. "Jiya. Listen to me. That bastard will never touch you again. Never. You're safe with us."
Jiya buried her face in Priya's shoulder. "Thank you… thank you…"
After a long moment, Ron placed a hand gently on her head. "You're family now," he said quietly. "And I protect my family."
They stayed like that for a while. No words. Just warmth in the cold.
Then Ron and Priya silently ascended the stairs to their apartment on the sixth floor. Behind them, the cold night deepened—and somewhere in Block 2, a predator smiled in the dark.
The door shut behind them with a firm click. The tension from outside still clung to their skin like cold mist. Ron walked straight to the stove and began heating a pot of frozen water.
Priya dropped the bag of evolution cores onto the couch with a dull thump, her face unreadable. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was heavy, charged.
"You should bathe first," Ron said, his voice low.
Priya didn't respond. Instead, she stepped forward, took his hand, and pulled him gently toward the bathroom.
He followed without resistance.
Steam began to fill the cramped bathroom as the water warmed. Priya turned her back to him, then slowly began to remove her layers—her white winter jacket, the thick sweater underneath, the thermals clinging to her fair skin. Ron stood still, watching quietly. Ron's breath hitched—not from lust, but the sheer intimacy of the moment. This wasn't just vulnerability. It was trust.
When she turned to face him, all that remained were her black bra and panties. Her cheeks were flushed, not from the heat, but from the vulnerability. Ron's heart pounded.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin against her shoulder.
"I love you, Priya," he whispered. "I can't live without you."
She turned in his arms, cupping his face between her palms. Her eyes searched his.
"Didn't I tell you last night?" she said. "I'm yours, Ron. Wherever you go, I'll follow."
She kissed him—soft at first, then deeper. Her fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer. His lips traveled to her neck, her collarbone, down the slope of her chest, and across her stomach. She moaned quietly, arching against him.
His hands moved lower, slipping past the band of her panties. She trembled, whispering his name.
Then, gently, she took his face in her hands again.
"Ron… this is my first time," she said, barely audible. "I've never let anyone touch me like this. I want it to be you. Only you."
Ron's breath caught.
"I'll be gentle," he whispered. "And this… it's my first time too."
Their foreheads touched. Then, without another word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
What followed wasn't rushed. It wasn't just physical. It was quiet, deliberate surrender.
When he finally entered her, she gasped—part pain, part wonder.Later, when they lay together in the quiet afterglow. A thin trace of blood marked the sheets beneath them.
Ron brushed a tear from her cheek. "You trusted me with something precious," he whispered.
Priya smiled softly, her fingers playing with his hair. "You're the only one I ever wanted to give it to."
Ron leaned down, brushing his lips against her cheek, her temple, her lips.
"Thank you… wife."
She smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "I love you, Ron. Don't you ever leave me."
"I won't," he whispered. "Never."