⌗ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ｡･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧⌗ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ｡･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
The plane wheels screeched softly as they touched the runway, the vibration humming through Anaya's seat. After days in Singapore — after everything — stepping back onto Indian soil felt surreal. Familiar, yet heavy.
Janvi stretched beside her, letting out a small groan. "Finally... home sweet home," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I swear, Singapore ke malls mujhe sapne mein dikh rahe hain."
Anaya smiled faintly but her mind was somewhere else. The flashing notification icon on her phone, the last few messages before they left... they still lingered at the back of her head. She pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply, telling herself, You're home now. Safe.
The announcement buzzed overhead — "Welcome to Delhi International Airport, Terminal 4. Please remain seated until the seatbelt sign is switched off."
As they stepped out into the terminal, the warm air hit her — a mixture of jet fuel, coffee, and home. People rushed past with luggage carts and sleepy kids. The noise was almost comforting.
Janvi dragged her suitcase along, glancing at her phone. "Ravi said he's coming to pick us up, right?"
"Haan," Anaya nodded. "He messaged that he'll be here in fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes?" Janvi groaned again, eyeing the coffee shop nearby. "Perfect. I'm getting caffeine before I die."
Anaya laughed softly, shaking her head. "Tumhara coffee aur meri patience... dono dangerous combo hai."
Janvi smirked. "Toh tu ruk, main coffee leke aati hoon. Tu luggage pe nazar rakh."
As Janvi walked toward the café, Anaya pulled her small trolley to a side bench near the glass wall. Outside, the late afternoon sunlight spilled across the runway, turning everything golden.
She sat down, stretching her neck. The terminal buzzed with travelers — businessmen on calls, families greeting each other, airport staff announcing flights. Normal, she thought. Everything looks normal.
But then, as her phone buzzed on her lap, that fleeting calm shattered.
The message glowed on the screen —
Unknown Number: Hello, Mrs. Malhotra...
Her breath caught. The name on that text — Malhotra — stabbed like an echo from the past. She hadn't used that surname in months. No one was supposed to.
Before she could think, another message flashed in.
Unknown Number: Enjoying your return from vacation? Delhi missed you... especially you.
A chill ran down her spine. Her fingers tightened around the phone, pulse hammering.
What the hell? she thought. Who is this?
She glanced around the terminal — the crowd, the noise, the faces. Everyone looked normal, ordinary. But her instincts screamed otherwise.
Her mind snapped to Rudra's voice — firm, commanding — "If anything suspicious ever happens, text Ravi immediately."
Her hands moved before she could think. She opened the chat with Ravi, typed quickly —
Anaya: Ravi... don't come to arrivals gate. Someone's watching. I think we're being followed.
She hit send, then looked up again, heart pounding.
Across the terminal, a man in a dark hoodie stood near the magazine stand, his head bent low over a phone. For a moment, his gaze flicked up — straight toward her.
Anaya's chest tightened.
Just then, her phone vibrated again — but this time it was Janvi's name flashing on the screen.
Janvi: Anu, I'm at the café. What happened? You look pale from here!
Anaya typed quickly, eyes never leaving the man.
Anaya: Come back. Now. Don't look around too much. Just act normal.
She stood, pretending to adjust her bag, eyes darting toward the crowd. The man was gone.
Maybe I imagined it, she told herself — but deep down, she knew she hadn't.
Her phone buzzed again — this time Ravi calling. She answered quietly, voice trembling. "Ravi... listen carefully. Don't park outside. Come straight to Terminal 4 back exit."
Ravi's voice came through steady and sharp. "Got it, ma'am. I'll be there in three minutes. Just stay inside, don't go anywhere."
Before she could reply, Janvi appeared beside her, coffee cup still in hand, eyes wide. "Anu, tu theek hai? Kya hua?"
Anaya swallowed hard, whispering, "I think someone followed us from Singapore."
"What?" Janvi's expression turned from confusion to alarm. "Matlab stalker-type?"
"Worse," Anaya muttered, glancing again toward the entrance. "Messages. Same unknown number. Delhi-based. He knows we came back."
Janvi's heartbeat quickened, but she forced a smirk. "Toh ab kya plan hai, Mrs. Secret Agent?"
Anaya managed a tight smile. "Plan simple hai. Act normal. Ravi's coming."
They both stood close, pretending to scroll through phones, trying to blend with the crowd. But the tension was unmistakable — the air between them heavy, charged.
Moments later, a black car rolled to a stop outside the terminal's side exit. Ravi stepped out, scanning the area with trained precision. His usual calm face was replaced by pure focus.
He gestured once — quick, sharp. "Now."
Anaya and Janvi started walking toward him, suitcases rattling behind. But before they could reach, two men appeared from the side — blocking their path.
One of them smiled faintly. "Mrs. Malhotra, right? Someone wants to meet you."
The blood drained from her face.
Janvi's grip tightened on Anaya's arm. "Run."
But before they could move, one man grabbed Anaya's wrist — too fast, too strong. The world blurred — the terminal, the voices, everything — replaced by the cold panic in her chest as they dragged her toward the exit.
Her phone fell, the last thing she heard was Janvi shouting her name.
"ANAYA!"
And in that same moment — just outside the gate — Ravi saw it happen.
His world turned red.
Without hesitation, he sprinted forward, eyes locked on the car where they were forcing Anaya inside.
That was the last moment of calm before chaos erupted.
"ANAYA!"
Ravi's voice ripped through the chaos like thunder. The black SUV's doors slammed shut, tires screeching against the concrete as it shot forward into the airport's outer road. Passers-by froze, heads turning, but Ravi was already sprinting. His shoes pounded the ground hard — one hand on his earpiece, the other reaching for his car keys.
"Gate three, black SUV — heading east!" he barked into the mic. His tone wasn't the calm, polite tone of a driver. It was command — clipped, trained, military.
Within seconds, the engine of his own car roared to life. Janvi came running from the terminal, her face pale. "Ravi! Where's Anu?!"
Ravi's jaw clenched, eyes dark as he shifted gears. "They took her."
Janvi gasped, her cup of coffee slipping from her hand, shattering against the floor. "Kya? Kaise—"
"Get in. NOW!!"
She didn't question him. She jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door just as Ravi hit the accelerator. The car leapt forward, the airport fading behind them in a blur of noise and panic.
"Ravi sir, drive fast... please, drive fast!" Janvi's voice trembled as she gripped the dashboard.
Ravi didn't answer — his focus was razor-sharp. He'd already spotted the SUV, weaving through the service road traffic. His pulse was steady, not racing; his training kicking in. Every second, every turn mattered.
The radio in his car crackled faintly.
<< Security team responding, sir. Two minutes out. >>
"Negative," Ravi snapped. "I'll handle it. Stay clear."
The voice hesitated. << Sir— >>
"Follow orders," Ravi growled, cutting the line.
Janvi stared at him, realization dawning slowly. "Ravi... aap sirf nahi ho, right?"
He didn't look at her, but the faintest smirk curved his lips. "Abhi sawal mat poochho. Bas seatbelt laga lo."
The SUV ahead took a sharp right, trying to lose him through the inner Delhi lanes. But Ravi knew these roads like the lines on his palm — every shortcut, every blind turn. He shifted gears down, took the opposite lane, and slammed the accelerator.
Janvi clutched her seat. "Yeh koi movie ka chase lag raha hai!"
Ravi muttered under his breath, "This is no movie."
He cut through a narrow street, his car flying past fruit carts and startled pedestrians. The SUV appeared again up ahead — the kidnappers hadn't expected someone to catch up so fast.
Inside that SUV, Anaya was slumped against the seat, her head tilted to one side, half-conscious. The man in the passenger seat turned, swearing. "Damn it, he's still behind us!"
"Lose him!" the driver barked, pushing the pedal down.
But Ravi was faster. His eyes flicked to the mirrors, calculating angles, speed, wind drag. He wasn't chasing anymore; he was hunting.
"Ravi, woh log—" Janvi began, but he cut her off. "Bas chup raho aur phone pe Rudra sir ko text bhejo — location share kar do."
Janvi fumbled with her phone, fingers shaking. "Done!"
The SUV took another left, speeding toward a half-constructed flyover — isolated, dusty, no cameras. Perfect place for a trap.
Ravi's lips pressed into a thin line. "Wrong move."
He hit the brake, spun the steering wheel sharply, and the car skidded across gravel — a perfect drift. He took the underpass and emerged directly ahead of the SUV's route.
Janvi gasped. "How— how did you—"
"I told you," Ravi said, eyes cold, "I know every road in this city."
The SUV's driver cursed, slamming the brakes when Ravi's car blocked the road. The screech of metal tore through the air as the two vehicles collided head-on — not hard enough to crush, but strong enough to trap.
Smoke rose. The kidnappers panicked. One of them tried to open the door.
Ravi was already out.
"Janvi!" he barked. "Stay inside. Door lock kar lo. Jab tak main signal na doon, mat aana."
Janvi's heart hammered, but she nodded. "Ravi, careful..."
He didn't reply.
Ravi moved like a shadow — fast, precise. He slid over the hood of his car, pulling a small black pistol from his waist holster. His entire demeanor changed; gone was the polite driver. In his place stood a trained operative, eyes sharp, stance unshakable.
The first kidnapper lunged at him, shouting. Ravi ducked low and swung upward, his elbow catching the man under the jaw. The impact was brutal — the man crashed backward against the SUV door, dazed.
The second man, the one sitting with Anaya, tried to pull a knife. "Ruko, or I'll—"
He never finished.
Ravi moved forward, slammed the SUV door open, and landed a solid kick to the man's chest. The knife clattered to the floor as Ravi grabbed him by the collar and punched — once, twice — the second blow sending the man unconscious.
"Touch her again, and you're dead," Ravi hissed, voice low and lethal.
He glanced inside. Anaya was unconscious but breathing. A bruise marked her wrist where they'd grabbed her. Carefully, he reached in and checked her pulse — steady. Relief flickered across his features for a moment, but only for a moment.
Behind him, the first kidnapper groaned, trying to stand. Ravi turned, raising his gun and pressing it against the man's forehead.
"Kaun bheja raha hai tumhe?" His tone was calm — too calm.
The man froze, lips trembling. "S-sir, hum bas— bas kaam—"
"Kaun?" Ravi repeated, louder this time, pushing the barrel harder.
The man whimpered, sweat breaking on his forehead. "Delhi... woh hi banda... Raj-... sir ka order tha—"
Before he could finish the words properly, Ravi's jaw tightened. His finger twitched on the trigger — but he didn't shoot. He knocked the man out cold with the butt of his gun instead.
He exhaled sharply, the rage in his eyes burning cold.
From inside the car, Janvi watched through the windshield, tears slipping down her cheek — part fear, part shock. Yeh aadmi kaun hai? she thought. The same man who used to drive them to meetings, who smiled politely, was now standing in the dust, gun in hand, like someone out of Rudra's secret world.
Ravi tapped on the car window, signaling her to come. "Janvi, Right Now. Quick."
She jumped out and ran toward him. "Anu?"
"She's fine," Ravi said, opening the SUV's door and gently lifting Anaya out. "Bas unconscious hai. Shayad chloroform use kiya."
Janvi's throat tightened. "Oh God..."
"Don't panic. Rudra sir ko call lagao. Tell him we have her."
Janvi pulled out her phone, fingers trembling. "Rudra sir— haan, we got her. Ravi sir saved—"
"Don't use names," Ravi cut in sharply. "Just say 'secured.' That's all."
She blinked at him, nodding quickly. "Secured. Got it."
Ravi placed Anaya carefully in his own car's backseat, covering her with his jacket. Then he turned back to the unconscious kidnappers, pulling a small device from his pocket — a tracker beacon. He stuck it under their SUV's bumper.
Janvi frowned. "Yeh kya—"
"Proof," Ravi said shortly. "Police will find them here. But hum trace karenge unka source. Whoever planned this — they'll know they picked the wrong woman."
His words carried quiet steel — not anger, but something far colder.
As he got behind the wheel again, Janvi looked at him — really looked — and realized she'd never known this man. The way he moved, spoke, reacted — everything screamed training. Not driver. Not assistant. Something else entirely.
"Ravi..." she said softly, "tum kaun ho, actually?"
He glanced at her, expression unreadable. "Bas itna samajh lo, Janvi madam... Rudra sir ne mujhe ek hi kaam diya tha — protect Anaya ma'am, no matter what. Aur main kabhi apna kaam adhoora nahi chhodta."
The weight in his tone silenced her.
As the car engine started again, the city lights blurred past. Anaya stirred faintly in the backseat, murmuring something incoherent. Ravi's eyes flicked to the mirror, softening just for a second.
"You're safe now, ma'am," he murmured under his breath. "Promise kept."
Outside, sirens wailed faintly in the distance — police closing in on the crash site. But Ravi didn't stop. He took the service road toward Singhaniya Estate — the safest ground he knew.
Janvi glanced at him again, her voice a whisper. "You saved her life, Ravi..."
He didn't reply, just kept driving, jaw set, eyes on the road. The faint glint of the gun at his side caught the passing light.
And for the first time, Janvi understood what Rudra had meant when he said —
"Ravi doesn't just drive. He watches, protects, and if needed... eliminates."
That night, as the car disappeared into the shadows of Delhi's empty roads, one truth became clear —
Ravi wasn't just a driver.
He was the silent shield Rudra Singhaniya had placed between danger and the woman he loved.
And anyone who crossed that line... never walked away again.