The helicopter blades were still echoing in Rudra's head as he stepped into the Singhaniya Mansion, his strides long, sharp, and fueled by a rage that had no name. The guards at the entrance froze when his boots hit the marble floor — they could tell from his face that something had gone wrong. His suit was still immaculate, but his eyes — those eyes — were no longer the eyes of a businessman. They were the eyes of a man who had almost lost the only thing that made him human.
Ravi was waiting near the main hallway, standing stiffly, his bandaged arm pressed against his side. "Sir," he said quietly, voice low, respectful. "She's upstairs... in your room."
Rudra didn't answer. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as he began to walk, every step heavy with unspoken fear. She's fine... he said she's fine... he repeated in his head like a broken prayer, but the memory of that single word — kidnapped — clawed through his chest like fire. He climbed the staircase two steps at a time, his hand brushing the railing for balance, though his body moved as if pulled by instinct — not reason.
As he reached the top floor, the faint sound of voices drifted from the master bedroom. He pushed the door open.
And there she was.
Anaya. Sitting on the sofa, her back against the cushions, her hair loose around her face, skin pale but alive. Janvi sat beside her, Ria on the other side. For a moment, Rudra couldn't breathe. The sight hit him so hard his knees almost gave way. The rest of the room faded; even the air felt irrelevant. All he could see — all he could feel — was her.
She's here... she's breathing... my heartbeat is still inside her.
Aarav, standing near the door, turned slightly, giving his brother space. But Rudra was already moving. Without a word, without thought, he crossed the room in seconds.
Anaya looked up just as he reached her. Her eyes widened — she barely had time to say his name before he bent down and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her into his chest so tightly it was as if he was afraid she'd vanish if he let go. His breath hitched against her shoulder. He didn't speak — couldn't.
He inhaled her scent — the faint perfume, the warmth of her hair, the reminder that she was real and his world wasn't collapsing. His lips brushed the side of her neck, not out of passion but out of relief — a desperate man tasting life again after choking on fear.
I should've been there. I should never have let her go alone. The thought screamed in his mind, louder than anything else. If anything had happened... if she had been hurt... His throat burned.
Anaya's voice came out soft, fragile, barely a whisper. "Rudra... I'm fine. Look, I'm okay."
Her hand came up to touch his face, her fingers trembling slightly as she brushed his cheek. He didn't move, his arms still locked around her waist, forehead pressed to hers. His voice, when it finally came, was low and rough — almost broken.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his words barely audible against her skin. "If I had been there... this wouldn't have happened."
Anaya smiled faintly, that small, calm smile that always disarmed his storms. "But I'm fine," she said again, glancing past his shoulder. "Ravi saved me."
Rudra's eyes opened — sharp again, protective — as they flicked toward Ravi, standing quietly near the door. A single nod passed between them. Respect. Trust. Gratitude.
Meanwhile, Aarav had shifted closer to Janvi, his eyes scanning her face with concern. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Janvi nodded, her lips pressing into a small, tired smile. "Yeah."
Rudra was still holding Anaya. He couldn't stop. His hands didn't listen to reason; his body was unwilling to let go of what it had almost lost. He closed his eyes and just claiming her in his arms.
"Rudra..." Anaya said again, her voice teasing now, a little breathless. "We're not alone..."
He didn't even open his eyes when he murmured back, "I know... but this is our room."
"Yeah," she replied, her lips curving slightly, "but there are other people here too..."
That finally made him blink. He turned his head — and sure enough, four pairs of eyes were fixed on them: Ria trying not to smile, Janvi biting her lip, Aarav pretending to cough, and Ravi pretending to check his phone.
Rudra exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. "Tum sab... bahar jao."
No one moved. Aarav grinned instead. "Bhai, mujhe bhi bhabhi se milne do at least."
Rudra's eyes snapped toward him, and he lifted a single hand — just one motion — pointing at the door. "Bahar jaake milo apni wali se. Mujhe mera room khaali chahiye... do seconds mein."
Janvi stifled a laugh as Aarav raised both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, hum ja rahe hain."
Ria chuckled on her way out. "Bhai, mujhe bhi mil lo kabhi kabhi," she teased.
But the door had already closed.
The moment it clicked shut, silence filled the room.
Rudra turned back. His eyes softened, the storm fading into something deeper — something that looked dangerously close to love. He stepped toward her slowly, every movement deliberate, as if he was afraid to break her. The distance between them vanished in two heartbeats.
Anaya looked up at him, her breath caught halfway. "Rudra..."
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His gaze said everything — you scared me, you broke me, and yet you're the only one who can fix me.
He reached out, cupping the back of her head gently, and before she could move, he bent down and kissed her forehead — a kiss that trembled slightly against her skin. His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, guiding her down carefully onto the sofa.
Her back met the cushions softly, his hand behind her head to protect her, his body leaning just enough to keep her safe, not trapped. Their breaths tangled — hers light, his ragged.
He looked into her eyes — the same eyes that had haunted his nightmares for hours — and whispered, almost to himself, "You have no idea what you mean to me."
Anaya smiled faintly, her fingers resting against his chest. "I think I do."
And for the first time that day, Rudra allowed himself to breathe — fully, deeply. The fear, the rage, the guilt — it all melted as he rested his forehead against hers, their hearts beating in the same rhythm again.
Outside the door, laughter echoed faintly in the hallway. Inside, only silence — the silence of two souls finally finding their way back home.
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. 𖥔 ݁˖₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. 𖥔 ݁˖ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. 𖥔 ݁˖
The mansion was silent when Rudra entered — the kind of silence that doesn't bring peace, only weight. His polished shoes hit the marble floor in a rhythm that matched his heartbeat — sharp, fast, furious. Ravi walked a step ahead, his usual composed demeanor edged with concern.
"Sir... she's in your room," Ravi said quietly. "With Ria and Janvi."
Rudra didn't answer. He just nodded once, every muscle in his jaw tightening. He didn't need words — the storm inside him said enough. Each step down the corridor made his chest ache more. The thought that someone had dared to touch her — even breathe near her — burned through him like acid.
When he reached the door, his hand hesitated for the briefest second on the handle. Then he pushed it open.
Inside, Anaya sat on the sofa, a soft blanket around her shoulders. Ria was beside her, Janvi opposite — their voices low, trying to comfort her. But the moment Rudra entered, the air shifted. The warmth of the room folded into tension — charged, fragile, almost sacred.
Anaya looked up. And the moment her eyes met his, everything else vanished.
Rudra froze. His vision tunneled, his throat closed, and for a second, he couldn't breathe. There she was — pale, exhausted, but alive. His Anaya. The chaos in his chest broke open.
He didn't speak. He just moved.
Three steps and he was there, pulling her into his arms. The sound of her gasp broke through the silence, but she didn't resist — she couldn't. His arms locked around her like they were the only walls holding his world upright. His face buried against her neck, his breath rough and shaking.
Ria and Janvi exchanged a small look — half smile, half relief. Aarav leaned against the doorway, smirking faintly at Ravi. "Looks like Bhai found his cure."
Ravi's lips twitched in agreement, but none of them said a word. Quietly, one by one, they slipped out of the room, leaving the door half-closed behind them.
Anaya was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "Rudra... I'm fine. Look at me."
He didn't move. His voice came out rough, low, like gravel. "If I'd been there, this wouldn't have happened."
She smiled faintly, brushing her fingers against his shoulder. "You can't protect me from everything."
Rudra pulled back just enough to see her face, his eyes wild with emotion. "Watch me try."
Something in his tone made her heart tighten — not arrogance, not dominance, just pain.
"Rudra..." she whispered.
He exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against hers. "I thought I lost you."
Her eyes softened, and for a heartbeat, the world stilled around them. "You didn't."
They stayed that way — two people breathing the same air, saying more in silence than words ever could.
Finally, Rudra sighed, his thumb tracing her cheek. "You should rest."
"And you?" she asked softly.
"I will," he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. "After I know you're really okay."
She smiled gently. "You're impossible."
He almost smiled back. "And yet, you married me."
"Hmm," she whispered. "Maybe I didn't have a choice."
"You always had a choice," he murmured. "You just chose me."
Before she could reply, he leaned in, kissing her forehead — slow, grounding, reverent. The moment stretched, tender and fragile.
But when he pulled back, something else flickered in his eyes — something raw, something that still burned.
The room was quiet again, the hum of Delhi's night faint through the curtains. Rudra's breath was still uneven as he stared at her — really looked at her.
She tried to speak, but before her words could form, he moved. His hand brushed her arm — firm, certain — and in the next heartbeat, she was beneath him, gently pressed into the sofa cushions.
But even then, his control didn't break. His left hand slid behind her head, shielding her from the edge of the sofa, his touch protective even in his desperation. His right hand steadied her waist, fingers trembling as they met the fabric of her kurti.
He didn't say a word. He just looked at her — the fear she'd felt, the strength in her eyes, the faint tremor still in her breath. All of it hit him at once.
I almost lost you.
The thought slammed through his chest. His thumb brushed her spine, tracing the line of her back, catching one of the tangled threads of her kurti. She gasped softly — not out of fear, but because the closeness stole her breath.
He leaned in, his forehead against hers. "I think, Velvet," he whispered, voice heavy with unspoken need, "we should make a few things clear."
Her breath caught. The way he said her name — low, rough, tender — sent a shiver through her. Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, unsure where to look.
"What things?" she whispered.
He gave a small, crooked smile. "Us."
"Us?"
He nodded, his nose brushing hers. "I've decided — no more hiding, no more pretending. On Monday, the world will know."
Her brows furrowed. "Know what?"
He didn't answer at first. He just inhaled deeply, letting her scent fill him — that soft jasmine note that always calmed him. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked slightly, softer than she'd ever heard it.
"That you're mine," he said. "That I'm yours."
Anaya blinked, caught between shock and emotion. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
"Rudra..." she whispered finally, her voice trembling.
He shook his head, his hand brushing her hair back. "No arguments. You've hidden behind 'Ms. Malhotra' long enough. Next week, you'll stand beside me as Mrs. Singhaniya."
Her heart skipped. "You know what that means, right? The media, your rivals—"
"I don't care," he cut in softly. "Let them talk."
The conviction in his tone silenced her. He wasn't trying to prove something — he was claiming what mattered most to him.
She reached up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing his jaw. "You scared me today," she whispered.
He closed his eyes, exhaling. "You scared me more."
Her lips trembled into a faint smile. "Guess we're even."
"Not even close," he murmured, his forehead touching hers.
For a while, they didn't speak. The room was filled only with their breathing, with the quiet rush of heartbeat against heartbeat.
Then Rudra's voice came again — softer this time. "I have a surprise for you."
Her brows furrowed slightly. "What kind of surprise?"
He smiled — that rare, slow smile that only she could pull from him. "The kind that'll remind you just how real this is."
"Rudra..." she began, but he only lifted her hand and placed it over his heart.
The rhythm beneath her palm said what his words didn't — You're safe. You're mine. I won't let the world touch you again.
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes shining with something between love and disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you?"
He nodded, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. "More than I've ever been."
The weight of that truth settled between them. She smiled faintly. "You're my storm, Rudra."
He leaned closer, whispering against her skin, "And you're the only one who knows how to calm me."
Her breath hitched, but this time it wasn't fear. It was home — the quiet realization that for all his fire, all his power, Rudra Singhaniya belonged entirely to her.
They stayed there — tangled in silence, wrapped in everything they couldn't yet say.
Outside, the city pulsed with life, unaware of the two hearts inside that room rediscovering each other.
And when Rudra finally closed his eyes, holding her a little tighter, a single thought echoed in both their minds —
The storm had finally found its calm.
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