Episode ---6
The rain had eased into a grey drizzle by the time they left the warehouse.
Raian stepped into the back seat beside Aria, his movements careful, every breath betraying a flash of pain he refused to show.
The city blurred past in streaks of neon and rainwater. Kolkata, so alive at night, now seemed to hold its breath.
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Aria watched him in the dim light — black shirt open at the collar, fresh bandage hidden beneath, and eyes that stayed fixed on the road ahead.
"You should rest," she murmured.
"I'll rest when it's over," Raian replied, voice low, almost distant.
She almost asked when what is over?
But something in his tone kept the words trapped in her throat.
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They left the city behind — trading crowded lanes and horns for narrow roads lined with old banyan trees and crumbling walls.
The car finally turned into a hidden driveway, stopping before a villa built of weathered stone and ivy. Time had not been gentle: cracked tiles, moss-darkened walls, broken railings leaning toward ruin.
"Where are we?" Aria asked softly.
Raian stepped out first, gaze sweeping the shadows. "Somewhere they won't look immediately."
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Inside, the villa smelled of rain and old dust. Faded portraits lined the walls — a boy with storm-grey eyes; a woman whose gentle face felt oddly familiar; an older man with a gaze so cold it made her stomach twist.
Raian caught her staring. Silence stretched between them, the air heavier than stone.
"My father built this place," he said, voice flat, almost detached.
"And then he destroyed everything in it."
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They walked through rooms of cracked marble and shadowed corners.
Raian stopped before a locked door. After a pause, he turned the handle.
Inside: a study, forgotten by time. A single chair by the window, a glass cabinet of old books, and a half-finished chessboard left mid-game.
"He taught me to play here," Raian murmured, almost to himself.
"Taught me winning was the only thing that mattered."
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Aria dared to step closer. "And do you still believe that?"
Raian's smirk was humorless, brittle as glass. "In my world, you don't have to believe it. You just have to act like you do."
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That night, thunder rumbled far away. Raian sat by the broken balcony, half in shadow, looking at the rain-soaked river beyond.
Aria watched him, a question rising and falling in her chest like a tide.
"Raian," she whispered, "what do you owe that keeps you fighting?"
His eyes found hers — cold, unflinching, yet something wounded beneath.
"A promise," he said. "Paid for in blood."
"And now?"
"Now," his voice dropped, raw, "I've dragged you into it, too."
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She moved closer, heart thundering. "Maybe I stepped into it on my own."
Their gazes locked — hazel and storm-grey, held by secrets too heavy to name.
Raian's hand brushed hers, fleeting as breath, before pulling away.
"You don't belong in this darkness," he murmured.
"Then why keep me here?" she whispered.
"Because," Raian rasped, looking away, "I can't watch them hurt you. Even if it means damning us both."
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The night closed in, wrapping them in silence broken only by the rain.
Somewhere beyond the walls, enemies hunted.
Inside, the distance between doctor and devil had never felt so thin.
Bound by blood. Tied by something neither dared name.
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Next: Aria witnesses Raian's ruthless side… and must face the truth about the man she chose to stay with…