AUTHOR’S POV 

The next morning, Vidyut was up early. As usual, he followed his routine—an intense workout in his home gym, followed by a cold shower that refreshed him. Dressed in a sharp suit, he had breakfast and attended a couple of meetings, his mind sharp and focused.

But our girl?

Vani was sleeping like a log, completely oblivious to the world around her.

It was already 11 a.m., and she still hadn’t stirred. Vidyut finally decided it was time to wake her up. He walked toward the bed and sat beside her, his eyes softening at the sight of her curled up like a kitten. Leaning down, he spoke gently.

“Vani… wake up, baby.”

But she didn’t even move.

Smiling to himself, he tapped her softly and tried again, his tone slightly firmer but still tender.

“Vani… wake up.”

This time, his words had an effect. She jolted awake, her eyes fluttering open as she mumbled in a sleepy, attentive voice—

“I’m awake… I’ll do all the house chores on time. Don’t worry.”

Vidyut’s expression changed instantly. His jaw clenched as the meaning of her words sank in.

That’s what she was used to.

Her body may have been here, but her mind was still trapped in that house where she had been nothing but a servant, a puppet.

Without a word, he pulled her gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around her protectively. His voice was a soothing balm against her fears.

“Baby, you don’t have to lift a finger here. Forget about chores… look at me.” He cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Your life has changed, meri jaan.”

Vani blinked, rubbing her eyes like a baby, her mind slowly registering where she was. She glanced around, realization dawning on her, and then…

A shy, embarrassed smile tugged at her lips.

“Sorry…” she murmured softly, her head lowering.

“Why sorry?”

“I… I blabbered like that…”

His lips curled into a warm smile. “It’s okay, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now, go get ready. We have to go to the mall.”

Her sleepy eyes brightened instantly. “Mall? Yes, yes!” she said, her excitement bubbling over. Then, her expression shifted, and she blinked up at him with innocent curiosity. “What time is it?”

Vidyut glanced at his watch.

“It’s around 11:15 a.m.”

Vani’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?!”

She gasped, sitting up straight in his lap, her face a mix of disbelief and panic.

“I slept this long? Why didn’t you wake me up?!”

She was complaining, but to Vidyut… she just looked like an adorable baby throwing a tantrum.

After all, she is his baby.

His heart swelled with a strange kind of pride and warmth.

“Relax, baby.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, his tone laced with amusement. “You deserved that rest.”

But Vani was still grumbling under her breath, and all Vidyut could think was—

How did I get so lucky?

Vani emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a simple short kurti and loose pants, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders as she dried it with a towel.

Vidyut, seated on the couch, looked up—and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Her simplicity was mesmerizing.

His eyes darkened as his mind wandered… imagining her hair wrapped around his fist, her body arching—

Fuck.

He snapped out of it when she pouted and asked, “Can I get a comb?”

Vidyut exhaled sharply, pushing his dirty thoughts aside. He stood up, took her hand, and guided her toward the dressing table.

“I know there aren’t many things for you to use right now. Only men’s stuff.” His voice was soft yet firm. “But, rabbit, just adjust for today. At the mall, I’ll buy you everything you need.”

Vani met his gaze in the mirror, hesitated, then gave a nervous nod.

Nervous?

Even she didn’t know why.

Once ready, she glanced around for footwear. The only pair she had was the same glass-pierced sandals—ones that had hurt her before, ones that had drawn blood, ones that were a cruel reminder of her past.

She sat on the floor like a child, carefully picking out each shard of glass, one by one.

Vidyut, waiting outside, frowned when she took too long. Stepping back into the room, his gaze landed on her hunched form—and then on the bloodied shards in her hands.

His entire body tensed.

Before she could react, his arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the floor in one swift motion.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was edged with anger. “Were you actually thinking of wearing those?”

Vani flinched slightly at his sharp tone. Instantly, he softened, cradling her closer. Without another word, he carried her to the bedroom and sat down, placing her in his lap.

His jaw clenched. “Were you?”

She avoided his gaze, only nodding slightly, her fingers unconsciously reaching for the buttons of his shirt, fidgeting.

“Why?” His voice was low, controlled, but demanding an answer.

Vani hesitated before finally whispering, “I… I don’t have any other footwear.”

Vidyut cursed under his breath. How could I overlook this?

He had never needed to think about a woman’s needs. His mother had passed away early, and his sister, Malvika—though she had cared for him in the beginning—had long since drifted into her own life.

Looking at the girl in his lap, so fragile yet so stubborn, something tightened in his chest.

“I should have taken care of that.” His tone was apologetic.

Vani parted her lips to protest, but he silenced her with a finger pressed against them.

Then, without another word, he stood up—carrying her effortlessly as he descended the stairs.

Vani’s brows furrowed. “Where are we going?”

He smirked. “Don’t tell me you have memory problems now. We’re going to the mall.”

She pouted. “But I don’t have any footwear…”

Vidyut reached the car, unlocking it with one hand while she clung to his suit jacket with both of hers. He placed her in the passenger seat, buckling her in.

“I can’t walk without shoes,” she huffed, frustrated.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he started the car and cast her a sidelong glance.

“You have me. I’ll carry you wherever you want.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks.

Just moments ago, she had been staring at him, but now—her entire body turned away, her gaze fixed outside the window.

Vidyut chuckled, amused.

The ride was silent.

Vani sat still, her hands clasped in her lap as Vidyut drove, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. The air between them was charged, not with discomfort, but something deeper—something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

As they reached the mall, Vidyut pulled into an empty parking lot and stepped out. Coming to her side, he opened the door, ready to lift her into his arms.

Vani instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck but couldn’t help glancing around. There were barely six or seven men in black suits, their expressions unreadable as they stood at a distance, watching.

Her brows furrowed. She leaned closer and whispered, “Mr. Russo… nobody comes to your mall? And… those men—they’re following us.”

Vidyut chuckled but didn’t explain, simply carrying her inside.

The moment they entered, Vani’s eyes widened.

It was empty.

The entire mall was eerily silent—no shoppers, no hustle, just store owners and salespeople standing by, waiting.

She turned to him again. “Does… nobody come here?”

This time, Vidyut smirked. “No, rabbit. It’s not like that. I booked the entire mall for you today. No one else is allowed in.”

Vani’s mouth fell open. “But… why?”

His smirk deepened as he walked toward a clothing store. “Because I don’t want anyone intruding on our time.”

Her breath hitched.

She was still trying to process his words when she suddenly remembered something.

“Nooo—first, the footwear shop!”

Vidyut paused, clearly reluctant to put her down, but he understood. He carried her toward the Jimmy Choo showroom and finally set her on a plush couch.

“Buy whatever you want,” he instructed, his voice unwavering.

Vani, however, had no clue about brands. She assumed these were just slightly expensive shoes, maybe in the 1k–2k range.

She carefully browsed the selection, her fingers brushing against sleek designs and delicate heels. After much hesitation, she finally picked a pair of sandals—simple, elegant, and with a heel she could manage.

She glanced at Vidyut, silently asking if her choice was okay.

He gave a curt nod.

Without a second thought, he paid for them and took her hand, leading her out of the store. His strides were longer than hers, and she found herself trying to match his pace.

Noticing this, he stopped abruptly, pulling her close and threading his fingers through hers.

Vani’s heart skipped a beat.

Then, before she could process anything, he was leading her toward their next destination.

She looked up— Victoria’s Secret.

Her body tensed.

Her fingers tightened around his as a deep nervousness settled in her chest.

Vidyut noticed. Without a word, he signaled for a female staff member to assist her.

But as they began showing her different options, her confusion only grew.

So many types of bras—sports bras, padded, balconette, lace…

Vani felt overwhelmed. She had never chosen these things for herself.

Vidyut, sensing her hesitation, walked over and bent slightly toward her. “Can’t figure it out?”

She stiffened, her entire face heating up.

She could not talk to him about this.

Seeing her struggle, Vidyut dismissed the staff with a simple gesture. Once they left, he pulled her toward the couch and, without warning, sat down—with her in his lap.

“Mr.Russo—” she stammered, but he ignored her, tilting her chin so she had no choice but to look at him.

“It’s just lingerie, Vani. There’s nothing to be shy about.” His voice was low, steady. “If you’re nervous because this is your first time shopping for yourself, don’t be. No one’s here to judge you. I’m here. For you. Always.”

Vani swallowed hard, nodding timidly.

“But… I don’t know what to choose,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know which one is meant for what… everything looks different.”

Vidyut chuckled.

Her pout deepened.

“How can you laugh when I’m suffering?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

He smirked, rubbing his thumb against her waist in slow, lazy circles.

“Oh, rabbit…” he mused, voice dripping with
amusement. “You’re too damn adorable.”

Vidyut called a saleswoman over.

As she approached, he said in his deep, commanding tone, “Pack everything you have in lingerie—not just bras and panties, but nightgowns, robes, everything.”

The woman blinked, stunned. So was Vani.

But it didn’t stop there.

As they moved from one store to the next, Vidyut bought everything. If Vani touched something, even by accident, it was instantly added to the purchase list.

Makeup? He hired the most renowned beautician in the city to curate a customized kit for her.

Footwear? He ordered from every luxury brand.

Clothing? The mall’s entire stock of tops, jeans, skirts, midi and maxi dresses, kurtis, everything a woman could possibly need—or not need—was packed and delivered into bags with her name on it.

Vani watched in disbelief as one bag after another piled up around them. It felt like every store in the mall was being emptied for her.

It was surreal.

But then… reality struck.

She hadn’t eaten anything all day, and now her stomach was making its protest painfully clear. With her cheeks puffed out in fake anger, she marched over to Vidyut, who was in the middle of instructing another salesperson.

“Mr. Russo!” she said sternly.

He turned, and the moment he saw her expression, he couldn’t help but smile.

Bending slightly to her level, he asked, “What happened, rabbit?”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “I’m hungry.”

His smile dropped into a guilty frown. “Shit… I didn’t even let you have breakfast, did I? And it’s already evening…” He gently cupped her cheek. “Come on, bacha. Let’s fill that tiny tummy of yours.”

Still pouting, she muttered, “I can’t stay hungry, you know…”

“I know, I know. What do you want to eat? Burger? Pizza? Indian? Continental?”

“I said anything,” she huffed. “Just something.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay, ordering burgers right away.”

As she waited, something caught her eye.

The toy store.

Her eyes sparkled like a child’s.

Vidyut noticed the shift instantly. Without a word, he lifted her up and walked her into the shop.

Once inside, she was in another world.

“Mr. Russo! Can we take this rabbit?” she asked, holding a fluffy white one with shiny black eyes.

Vidyut nodded. “Of course.”

“And this wolf? And—ooh—this dolphin too?” she added, bouncing on her toes.

He smiled, eyes never leaving her glowing face. “Take them all, rabbit.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “All?”

He leaned down, whispering with a smirk, “You’re my everything. So everything you touch, like, or even look at for too long? It’s yours.”

VIDYUT’S POV 

She’s mine.

Whatever she likes, whatever she wants—or even dreams about—it’s hers. No questions, no conditions.

After what felt like hours of shopping and spoiling her, she finally tugged my sleeve and whispered that she was tired. So we headed to the car, burgers in tow.

The moment she settled into the seat, she unwrapped one and took a huge bite, her cheeks puffed out adorably.

Then came that sound—
A soft moan.

Innocent. Pure.
But it did things to me.

What if one day... she moaned my name like that?

Snap out of it, Vidyut.

“It’s so yummy,” she said between bites, her eyes sparkling. “I had it for the first time.”

I didn’t even blink this time. The more I knew her, the more I realized—she’d never been allowed to live. To feel.

Three, maybe four bites in, with her mouth adorably stuffed, she turned to me and said something that was mostly burger-muffled gibberish.

Still driving, I glanced at her. “What?”

She swallowed and repeated, more clearly, “Aren’t you hungry?”

I shook my head.

“When did you last eat?”

“This morning.”

Her brows furrowed. “Then you must be hungry.”

“I’m not,” I said quietly.

Why is she being so... caring?

Before I could think further, she pulled out another burger, unwrapped it, and leaned across the car toward me, holding it to my lips.

“Take a bite,” she said softly. “It won’t harm you.”

I glanced from her face to the burger—this tiny, stubborn girl trying to feed me while I drove.

Has anyone ever done this for me before?

No.

Not after mom

She looked at me like it was the most normal thing to do—like I mattered.

And at that moment, I took a bite. Not because I was hungry.

But because she wanted me to.

As I chewed the bite she offered, she nibbled on her own food beside me. There was something so domestic, so quietly intimate about the moment. No fancy words, no declarations—just two people sharing food on a silent drive, hearts inching closer without even realizing.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of calm.
She helped the staff arrange her things, her face lighting up at each new item as if she couldn’t believe any of it belonged to her. I watched her from a distance while handling some calls, unable to ignore how easily she was settling into this new world. Our world.

That night, we fell asleep— according to our arrangements , and me wondering what I did in life to deserve her.

---

The next morning, I had to leave for the office. The kind of work that couldn’t wait.

I got ready quietly, not wanting to disturb her sleep. She looked like an angel tangled in the bedsheets, her cheek pressed into the pillow, lips slightly parted.

I walked over and gently kissed her forehead.

She stirred. Eyelashes fluttered. And then… those sleepy eyes blinked open, locking onto mine.

Guilt hit me like a wave. I didn’t mean to wake her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up…” I whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But listen, I have to go to the office. I’ll be back by evening, okay? You can enjoy your day here with the staff. I asked them to set up your canvas, your paints, your books… everything’s ready. Draw, read, study—whatever you feel like doing, rabbit.”

She didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared at me, as if trying to memorize my face.
And then came her soft mumble, fragile and full of fear—

“You’ll come back, right? You won’t leave me?”

That hit me in the gut.

God, what kind of fear has she lived with?

I leaned down, cradled her face in my palm, and said the only thing I needed her to know.

“Of course, baby. Where would I even go without you?”
I pecked her nose.

“I’ll come back. Tension not.”

As I stood up to leave, her delicate fingers wrapped around mine, stopping me mid-step. The grip was soft, hesitant… but desperate. I looked back.

Her face held fear—raw, unfiltered.
She didn’t want me to go.

I smiled gently and walked back to her, sitting at the edge of the bed. Without another word, I pulled her into my lap. She clung to me instantly, like a child seeking warmth in a storm.

“What happened, bacha?” I asked softly, brushing her hair back.

She just snuggled deeper into my chest, her voice muffled, trembling with vulnerability.

“I’m scared… Will you leave me now? I don’t want to lose you.”

My heart clenched. How much fear has she bottled inside?

I wrapped my arms tightly around her, rubbed her back in slow, comforting circles, and kissed her forehead.

“No, baby. I promise I’ll be back by evening. Five o’clock sharp. I swear.”

She looked up at me with hopeful, sleep-laced eyes.

“Pakaa promise?”

I nodded with a soft smile. “Yes, promise.”

We stayed like that for a few more minutes—me holding her, her breath slowly evening out. Her body started to relax in my arms, and I knew sleep was taking over again.

I didn't want to leave.
God knows, every bone in my body wanted to stay wrapped around her.

But duty called.

So gently, I laid her back down, careful not to wake her. She stirred for a second, her fingers twitching toward me. I tucked her in, placed pillows on either side so she wouldn’t feel alone… and then stood there for a moment, just watching her.

So small.
So fragile.
So mine.

With a final glance, I turned and walked out—carrying her scent, her warmth, and that promise… to always come back to her.

VANI’S POV 

When I woke up again, the bed felt too big, too quiet.

He was gone.

I turned to check the nightstand-10 a.m. The soft ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room. After freshening up and taking a quick bath, I headed downstairs, the mansion too large, too silent for my comfort.

There were at least seven to ten staff members moving about, all older than me. Their eyes were polite but unreadable. I didn't know them. They didn't know me. I quietly made my way toward the kitchen-I was hungry and didn't want to bother anyone.

But as I reached the kitchen doorway, I stopped.

Voices.

Two maids were speaking. Older women. Their tones were low but sharp, like needles laced with poison.

"What do you think, why did sir buy her ?"

"To warm his bed, obviously."

My stomach twisted. My breath caught.

No.

No, he said he didn't want me like that.

Then why did he bring me here?

My thoughts raced, stumbling over each other. Doubt clawed into me like thorns digging into soft skin.

And then the other woman spoke again, harsher this time-

"If he wanted to sleep with her, he would've done it by now. But I don't think he touched her. She doesn't even have much... you know... not in the boobs, not in the ass."

"Maybe he plans to sell her. She's young. Could be worth a good deal."

Sell me?

My heart dropped. My legs froze.

He... wouldn't.
Would he?

He made me feel safe. Cherished. Held. He never looked at me with lust-just care. Possessiveness, yes. But not that kind.

Then why are they saying this?
What if it's true?

I didn't even realize when tears welled up in my eyes. I turned and ran, my bare feet barely touching the ground as I raced up the stairs.

Back to the room.
Back to the silence.

I didn't know if they saw me.
I didn't care.

I sat on the bed, shaking, the voices echoing in my head.

He'll sell you.
You're just another deal.
Not enough in your chest... not enough behind...

A part of me wanted to scream. Another part wanted to vanish.

Should I wait for him?

Should I give him a chance to explain?

Should I run?

Or worse...
Should I just... end it all?

No.

No, no, no.

I won't think like that.
Because when he touches me-it's gentle.
When he speaks to me-it's soft.
When he looks at me-it's like I matter.

And I do feel something for him.
And I want to believe-he feels something too.

So I'll wait.

I'll wait for him to come back.

Every second felt like an eternity.

Five more hours until he came back-until 5 p.m., just like he promised. But I missed him already. So much. The house felt too quiet, too hollow, like the walls were holding their breath.

Suddenly, a phone rang.

The sound echoed faintly through the bungalow. I froze for a second, confused.
Who's calling?
And from where?

I stepped out of the room, ears perked, trying to follow the sound. It was faint but persistent. As I got closer, I realized it was coming from the wall-an old-style landline phone, mounted neatly in a hallway I hadn't noticed before.

I rushed toward it-but someone got there first.

An older woman, one of the staff members, picked it up before I could. I stopped in my tracks, unsure if I should move forward. But then she looked at me with a warm smile and gently gestured me closer.

"Sir wants to talk to you," she said, her tone soft, almost amused.

My heart fluttered. I tried to walk calmly, like an adult-but I couldn't help it. I ran to her.

She handed me the phone, and I pressed it to my ear just in time to hear the voice that made my entire world still.

"Vani..."
Just my name on his lips sent a wave of calm washing over me.

"Vani, bacha... say something. I want to hear your voice."

I felt shy, nervous, giddy, and scared all at once.

"Y-Yes, Mr. Russo..." I whispered.

God, I wanted to tell him how much I missed him-but the words refused to come out.

"Did you eat anything?" he asked softly.

Right on cue, my stomach growled. I winced. He must've heard that.

"Uhmm... yeah. Yeah, I have eaten."

"Really?"

"Y-Yes."

"What did you eat?"

"Bread... bread and jam," I mumbled, lying through my teeth.

There was a soft sigh on the other end, almost amused.

"Liar. I made pancakes for you myself. Vani... you have to take care of yourself, bacha. I won't always be around to remind you."

My heart clenched at his words.

"Why won't you?" I asked, my voice small and trembling, a tear clinging to my lashes.

There was silence for a moment.

"Bacha... I meant when I'm at work or traveling. Not like that. Don't be scared, hmm?"

Something inside me broke. I don't know what came over me. I had never been this emotionally fragile.
I never craved anyone's attention. Never needed anyone.
But I needed him. Now. So badly.

"I... I'm okay. When will you come back?"

"Maybe around 6."

My heart sank.

"But you promised me 5..." I said, a pout in my voice, tears brimming again.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. Something urgent came up, that's why I called... just to hear your voice, to let you know I didn't forget. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"You're bad," I murmured.

There was a smile in his voice as he said, "I know. But I'm your bad man, na? Forgive me, my baby."

"Hmm."

"Alright. I have a meeting now. But you better eat something or you'll be punished, okay?"

I was about to respond, but then I heard another man's voice in the background-something urgent-and the call abruptly ended.

I stood there holding the receiver, staring at nothing.

And my heart whispered quietly, Come back soon... please.

Seconds turned into minutes.
Minutes into hours.
And still... no sign of him.

It was past six. I sat in the living room, curled up near the low table, a book open in my lap-but my eyes kept darting to the door. Every sound made my heart leap, only to disappoint me again and again.

I had eaten a few pancakes like he asked. Just so he wouldn't scold me. But after that, I didn't want anything else. I didn't want food. I didn't want anything. I just wanted him.

I stayed seated on the floor, trying to read, pretending to focus-but my heart wasn't in it.

One of the older staff ladies passed by and paused, seeing me still waiting.

"Tension not, beta. Sir will come soon," she said with a kind smile.

I gave a weak nod, but before she could walk away, I asked, "Do you have his contact number?"

She looked at me apologetically and shook her head. "No... he only calls on the landline. We don't have any numbers for him."

My heart sank again.

The hope I was holding onto so tightly began slipping through my fingers.

I moved to the couch and just... waited.

7 p.m.
8 p.m.
9 p.m.

He promised.

10.
11.

Midnight.

The sky had shifted from blue to black and into that cold, silvery grey just before dawn. The staff had gone to their rooms, the house had fallen into silence-and I remained, alone, on the couch.

My eyes stung. My heart felt like it was being crushed slowly, second by second.

Tears spilled silently.
And at some point... I must've cried myself to sleep.

---

I don't know when I woke up, but something felt different. A shift in the air.

I heard the main door creak open.

Half-asleep, I rubbed my eyes and sat up groggily-only for my breath to catch in my throat.

There he was.

Vidyut.

Standing in the doorway.

But this wasn't the man I had been waiting for all day.

His white shirt was soaked in blood. Splattered across his chest, smeared across his forearms, and staining his hands. His face had streaks of dried crimson, one small cut open on his cheekbone, and his hair was messy-wild.

His eyes met mine-and for the first time since I met him, I didn't feel safe.

My body reacted before my mind could.

I started crawling back on the couch, eyes wide, heart pounding, hands shaking. My back hit the armrest and I tucked myself into the corner, trying to hide, to disappear.

He paused in his steps. Watching me.

And in that moment, I couldn't breathe.

This... this wasn't Mr. Russo I knew.

Not the one who fed me pancakes.
Not the one who called me "bacha."
Not the one who kissed my forehead like I was something precious.

This man-painted in blood-was someone else.

And for the first time... I was truly scared.

VIDYUT’S POV

When I left her that morning, a part of me stayed back.

I kissed her forehead, promised her I'd return by five... but even then, something in me ached. I didn't want to leave. Not her. Not now, when she was just starting to open up, to trust me.

But I had no choice.

There was a leak in my company. Someone from my inner circle had been spilling confidential information. And in my world, betrayal isn't a mistake-it's a death sentence.

The meetings dragged on, but my mind wasn't fully in them. Half of me was signing documents and giving orders; the other half was back at home, imagining her face, the softness of her voice when she asked if I'd return.

But then... we found him.

The traitor.

And I had to choose.

Justice or Vani.

I chose justice.

We tracked him to an old warehouse. He was already tied-chained like the snake he was. I didn't wait for explanations. I don't need excuses when loyalty is broken.

My blade did the talking.

I carved into his skin like he wasn't human. Just a breathing example of what happens when you cross me. Every scream, every bone I shattered with my fists-it numbed something inside me. A rage I didn't realize had built so high.

Time slipped away. Hours bled like the man beneath me.

By the time I looked at my watch-my hands drenched in blood, my shirt soaked and stiff-it was already past two in the morning.

Fuck.

Vani.

I shot the bastard one last time-clean, quick-and walked out.

Didn't bother to change.

Didn't wash the blood.

I couldn't.

I just needed to get home. To her.

And I know she must be sleeping till now in her room, so that's a plus point to me I drove to the bungalow in no time the driver came and did his work while I moved in the bungalow

The second I stepped inside, I saw her.

Curled up on the couch, tiny and trembling, with wide, terrified eyes.

Her gaze wasn't soft this time.
It wasn't curious.
It wasn't playful.

It was fear. Raw. Undeniable.

And it was all directed... at me.

She saw the blood.
The chaos I had just come back from.
And she thought I could hurt her.

That shattered something inside me.

I froze.

My hands-still sticky, stained-I clenched them into fists by my side. Not in anger, but in helplessness.

She shuffled back like a scared rabbit, her spine pressing into the couch, her arms pulling her legs in as if to make herself smaller.

"Vani..." I said softly. My voice-hoarse, tired-felt foreign even to me.

She flinched.

Fuck.

"No. No, baby... it's not what you think."

I wanted to go to her, to hold her, to explain everything.
But how could I, looking like this?
I must've looked like a monster.

I took a step forward-she whimpered.

My heart cracked.

I lifted my hands instinctively to show her I meant no harm-but the blood on my palms made me stop halfway.

She was trembling.

"I promised I'd be back," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm sorry, bacha. I didn't want you to see me like this."

But she just kept staring, like she didn't recognize me anymore.

I crouched down-slow, deliberate-keeping distance.

"You're safe, Vani. I swear on everything I've ever cared about... you're safe with me."

She didn't respond. She was still hugging herself, eyes flickering between my face and the red splattered across my shirt.

I looked down at myself-and hated what I saw.

Not the blood.

I backed off a bit , And then she ran.

Straight into the room.

I stepped back, giving her space to breathe. My jaw clenched as the door slammed shut.

I've walked into houses with blood dripping from my hands and boots before. Faced death. Killed men. I've worn blood like a second skin for years.

But tonight... it itched.

It burned.

For the first time, I wanted to tear the shirt off my body and burn it into ashes. As if maybe then, I could cleanse the fear I'd just seen in her eyes.

I followed her quietly. The room was dimly lit. She was crouched behind the bed, shivering like a leaf caught in a storm.

My voice came out harsher than I intended.

"Vani. Get on the bed."

She flinched.

My heart cracked-but I couldn't show it. I was still soaked in the remnants of violence.

"Vani," I said again, lower this time, but still firm. "Do as I said."

She moved.

Like a puppet.

Tears streamed down her face as she crawled onto the bed, sitting stiffly-like she was afraid I'd snap at any moment.

I couldn't bear to see her like that.

Without another word, I turned and walked into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind me, and I ripped the bloodied clothes off. The hot water hit my skin like fire, but it wasn't enough to burn away what I felt.

What did you think, Vidyut? That she'd love you?

That you could be the monster and the man?

She saw the blood. The violence. You.

She's terrified of you now.

She should be.

You're not made for love. You're made for war. For blood.

Not for holding soft girls with trembling fingers and wide, trusting eyes.

Let her go.

Let her live.

You're caging a bird whose wings were only just beginning to spread. She's not meant to be kept behind steel gates and stained walls.

She's not meant for you.

I stood there, unmoving, letting the water scald like it might cleanse the filth from my soul.

But no matter how much I scrubbed, I couldn't wash her fear from my memory.

When I finally stepped out, I wore only a plain black shirt and black pants. Nothing else. No guns. No mask. No persona.

Just me.

Broken.

Exhausted.

And afraid... that I was losing her.

As I stepped back into the room, she hadn't moved an inch.

Still curled up in the same spot, her arms wrapped around her knees, eyes swollen with tears, body trembling like a fragile petal in a hurricane.

I walked toward her slowly-each step calculated, gentle.

She flinched and scooted back just a little.

My heart clenched.

I crouched beside the bed, trying to soften my voice. "Bacha... look. I'm clean now."

But I knew-it didn't matter.

The blood might be gone from my skin.
But not from her memory.

Still, her voice-shaky and soft-broke something in me.

"But you... had blood all over you just a moment ago. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Even in her fear, she asked if I was injured.

God... what kind of man is feared by the same girl who worries about his wounds?

I shook my head, forcing a small breath. "Something happened... something you don't need to know."

My tone was firmer than I intended, and she nodded silently. At least... she didn't move back this time.

I took the chance and gently scooped her into my arms.

She didn't protest-but she didn't melt into me either.

I carried her out onto the balcony and sat down on the cushioned bench. Placed her gently on my lap, holding her like she was something breakable.

She didn't snuggle into me like before... so this time, I did.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, wrapping my arms around her waist, letting her small frame ground me.

"I needed this," I whispered into her skin, not caring if she pulled away.

"Say something, rabbit," I said again, softer.

"What should I say?" she asked quietly.

"Whatever is in your mind."

She hesitated before speaking.

"I... I'm scared."

I closed my eyes. "Baby, please don't be. What I did... it was something that had to be done."

"But what if..." her voice cracked, "what if one day you do it to me?"

My entire world stilled.

What?

I pulled away just enough to look at her. Her eyes were full of terror, but not hate.

Still, it ripped me apart.

"What are you saying, Vani?" My voice cracked with disbelief-and maybe a bit of anger. "Are you mad? Why would I ever-ever-do something like that to you?"

The sharpness in my tone startled her, and tears rushed into her eyes again.

"No... I'm sorry," she mumbled, shrinking into herself. "I didn't mean it... I didn't..."

I pulled her closer instantly. Regret hit me like a damn truck.

"I'm sorry," I whispered against her forehead, kissing her there softly. "I'm really sorry, bacha. I shouldn't have raised my voice. Please don't ever think that. Not even for a second."

"I care about you," I said, my voice breaking. "You're the only softness I have left. I couldn't hurt you. I couldn't even imagine it. Even in my darkest moments... it's you who brings me peace."

She didn't say much-just let out a soft hum and rested her head on my chest.

And then... she snuggled into me.

It was subtle, hesitant-but it was there. That small act undid me.

Maybe she couldn't resist me either.

I held her gently, letting her warmth sink into my chest. I didn't know when she fell asleep. Her breathing slowed, her body relaxed against mine, and she fit there like she belonged.

But while she drifted into dreams, I slipped into my thoughts-dark, consuming, endless.

How do I free my rabbit from this fear? From this life?

She didn't deserve this.

She was still so young. So soft. So wrecked by her past.

I couldn't bear the thought of her breaking further because of me.

I'm a mafia don. A member of a secret society. My world is carved in blood and shadows.
How could I ever offer her light?

But she's mine. Mine.

I won't let her go.
But I can't keep her in fear either. Not like this.

She needed to be set free. To live her life on her terms. To breathe without constantly looking over her shoulder.

Maybe, just maybe... if I let her live freely, and one day-when she's older, stronger, and I've told her everything-if she still chooses me...

Then she'll truly be mine.

But if she doesn't?

If she falls for someone else?

That man will be chopped into pieces and fed to my dogs.

No mercy. No apologies.

Still... right now, she deserves better.

She likes studying, I remembered. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke about books.
But I can't risk sending her to just any college. Not with the enemies I have.

I need to find a way-a loophole in this cursed life-to give her an education and keep her safe.

My thoughts swirled as I shifted on the small couch, pulling her closer. It wasn't built for two-but I didn't care. I made room for her, always.

I let her rest on top of me and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

My rabbit was sleeping soundly.

And I? I closed my eyes, with the weight of my sins on my shoulders and the softness of her heartbeat against my chest.

I'll find a way to give her the life she deserves.

Even if I have to burn the whole world for it.

VANI’S POV 

I was half-asleep, wrapped around something warm—but hard. It wasn’t the plush softness of Mr. Russo’s bed. It felt like I was lying on… steel?

My brows furrowed as I shifted slightly. I was snuggling a big pillow, trying to find a more comfortable position against that strange firmness.

But then… a hand slid along my waist. Another one cradled my back.

Strong. Protective. Familiar.

I melted into it instinctively, whispering in my mind, What a dream.
I could sleep like this forever—if only this bed wasn’t so hard.

Then something else hit me.

Wait… skin?

My eyes blinked open, adjusting to the soft morning light—and I realized…

I wasn’t in a dream.

I was lying on him.

My face was buried in his chest, my leg hooked over his thigh, my arms wrapped around him like he was a giant human pillow.

And Mr. Russo … was wide awake.

Watching me with that lazy, morning smile on his face.

When our eyes met, I gasped and tried to jerk away, but his grip only tightened, effortlessly pulling me back into place.

Then he spoke in that husky, rough morning voice that sent shivers down my spine—

“So… my body feels like steel to you?”

What the—!
Did I say that out loud?!

My face turned crimson. “Uhm… no! I mean—it's not like that!”

He laughed.

A deep, amused laugh that vibrated through his chest and into my cheeks, making my embarrassment ten times worse.

“You talk in your sleep, rabbit,” he smirked.

God.

Kill me now

The moment he placed me gently on his bed, I tried to hide my flaming face in his chest. My cheeks were already burning—but then, just as he turned to leave, he bent closer and whispered:

“You looked really cute while sleeping on me. And thanks for the compliment about my body—though all night, your hands were all over it.”

His smirk was pure sin.

I shut my eyes, groaning in shame as he left, laughing to himself. I yanked the blanket over my head like it could hide me from what just happened. My hands flew to my cheeks—they were burning.

God.

How did I end up like this?

But just as I started to calm down, flashes of last night came crashing back.
His bloodstained shirt.
His unreadable eyes.
That terrifying, unfamiliar energy.

My stomach turned. My mind spiraled.

How can both versions be real?
The gentle man who carried me here like I was precious—and the one who came home painted in red.

I pushed the thoughts away, desperate to shake off the anxiety crawling beneath my skin. I jumped out of bed, took a long shower, and changed into my favorite loose t-shirt and wide pants—comfort clothes. Something about them made me feel grounded again.

But as soon as I stepped out, he came into view.

Vidyut stood there, drenched in sweat. His black t-shirt clung to him like a second skin, the fabric stretching around his biceps, and sticking to his abs. I froze.

My throat dried.

What is happening to me? My heart raced with a weird fluttery heat I didn’t understand. My gaze was definitely not on his face.

That’s when he snapped his fingers in front of me, smirking.

“Yes?”
“What were you thinking?”

I looked away instantly, mortified. “Nothing.”

But he wasn’t buying it.
“I know you were checking me out.”
Ugh. Busted. I kept my back to him, praying the floor would open and swallow me whole.

I heard the thud of the bathroom door shutting as he went to shower. I rushed to clean the room, hoping it would calm me down. After that, I headed downstairs.

I really wanted to cook, but two of the housemaids were already in the kitchen—and I could hear them whispering about me. Again.

Tch. I ignored them and walked to the living room, where my stuff was still scattered from last night. I bent down and started organizing it all.

That’s when I sensed him.

And when I looked up—

My eyes widened.

He was coming down the stairs in a black shirt… the top few buttons completely undone. His chest was right there in front of my face like some forbidden fantasy.

And to make things worse—one of the maids was ogling him.
Like really ogling.

My jaw clenched.
Why was she looking at him like that?

He’s mine.

Wait.

What the hell am I thinking?!

He’s not mine. He never said anything. I haven’t even asked what I am to him.

Still… it pissed me off.
She had no right to stare at him like that.

He walked over to me, face unreadable—but when our eyes met, he gave me that soft, crooked smile that did weird things to my heart.

Standing next to him, I felt like a literal child. Our height difference was ridiculous. He was tall, broad, powerful—while I was just… me. Small. Clumsy. Confused.

How old is he, anyway? 25? 26? He feels older.

Suddenly he spoke, as if reading my thoughts—again.

“Rabbit… just ask whatever’s on your mind.”

My heart jumped.
How does he do that?

“I-I wasn’t thinking about your age…” I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek.

His eyes twinkled, and he leaned in a little, voice low enough for only me to hear.
“Rabbit, you can ask me directly. No need to assume.”

I pouted in embarrassment.

He grinned.
“I’m twenty-nine.”

Twenty-nine.

Twelve years older than me.

And somehow, it only made him more dangerous—and more irresistible.

“You really don’t look like you’re twelve years older than me,” I said with complete honesty, my voice soft, innocent.

He paused, then leaned in close to my ear, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Before I could process the flutter in my stomach, he gently took my hand and guided me toward the dining table. It was massive—like, royalty-style massive. My eyes instantly began counting the chairs, distracted by how ridiculously long the table was.

He watched me with a flicker of amusement in his gaze before pulling out a chair for me.

“You can count them later, rabbit. First, let’s eat.”

I nodded, settling down in the chair as the butler brought over the breakfast. The plates were filled with an all-Italian spread—bread, butter, jam, creamy pasta, a tall glass of shake, and even a light salad.

Fancy. Maybe this was his regular style.

But in that moment, I missed the warmth of Indian food. The aroma of masala, the spice, the comfort. I’ll cook one day, I promised myself quietly.

As we began to eat, he glanced at me thoughtfully, then asked in a more serious tone, “Vani… if life gave you a choice—what would you pick? To study and follow your dreams, or to live in a house with every luxury, no worries, but no outside world?”

I looked down at my plate, thinking carefully.

His voice was calm, but I could tell this wasn’t just casual curiosity. There was something heavier beneath it.

After a few seconds, I looked up and said honestly, “Study.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded slowly—as if confirming something in his mind.

After breakfast, he looked at me and said in his usual calm but commanding tone, “Vani, go grab your stuff and come to my study. I’ve got some office work. You can sit there and paint or read something.”

I instantly nodded and ran to get my things.

When I came back, a bit breathless from the rush, he took the sketchpad and books from my hands in one of his own—and gently laced the fingers of his other hand with mine.

That small gesture made my heart skip a beat, but it was something else that caught my attention.

His sleeves were rolled up.

I had seen his arms before… but I had never really looked.

The veins on his forearms were so defined—almost popping against his skin. It looked like even the tiniest paper cut would hurt him. Wouldn’t that kind of pressure… ache?

And then—out of nowhere—he spoke without even looking at me.

“Nothing will happen like that, rabbit.”

My eyes widened. I stared at him in pure shock. How?! How does this man always know exactly what I’m thinking? Is he a mind reader? A magician? Or maybe I’m just… too easy to read.

We walked into the study together.

It was bigger than I expected—warm lighting, a small personal library, a heavy desk with two to three monitors, and a massive couch that looked too tempting to ignore. My eyes flicked to a large locker built into the wall. It stood out.

Private. That’s what it screamed.

Maybe it held something important. Maybe even dangerous. I wanted to ask. But I remembered last night—his voice firm, closed-off. “Something happened which you don’t need to know.”

Maybe he keeps things from me because I’m still a minor. Maybe because… I act like a clumsy little kid around him.

He guided me to the couch and let go of my hand gently, placing my stuff beside me.

“Get comfortable, bacha,” he murmured before walking over to his desk, slipping effortlessly into his mafia king mode.

I sat there, flipping open my sketchpad… but my eyes kept drifting back to him. The way his brows furrowed while typing. The way his jaw clenched slightly when he concentrated. The way he owned the room without trying.

I sighed quietly and dipped my brush into the color tray.

But in my heart, I already knew…

He was going to be the subject of my next painting.

VIDYUT’S POV 

She was sitting on the couch in my study, lost in her little world of colors, sketching something with utmost focus. But every thirty-three seconds—yes, I counted—her eyes flicked toward me.

And every single time… my heart skipped a beat.

How could a glance—just a glance—feel like a storm in my chest?

I don’t want her in my life.
I need her.

My rabbit.
My weakness.
My… love?

Do I really love her?

Yes.

Yes, I do. I love her. With a kind of madness I’ve never felt before. And because I love her… I can’t be selfish anymore.

I’ve lived for myself all my life—always taking, never giving. But with her, I can’t do that. She doesn’t need me neither I think she wants me

She deserves freedom, not the prison of my arms.

She’s a wildflower, a soft breeze—untouched by the filth I live in. I’m blood and shadows. She’s sunlight and innocence. How can I force her into a world where violence is routine and death knocks like an old friend?

She would never survive the darkness I call home.

But still…
Should I change? For her?

I remembered what happened to the head of our secret society. He tried. He tried to change for love. But eventually, the darkness pulled him back like a noose. You can leave the underworld, but the underworld never leaves you.

I can’t let her drown in this.

I have to let her go.

But how?

She wants to study. Her eyes lit up when I asked her that question this morning. That’s what she wants. College. Normalcy. A real life.

But the outside world isn’t safe. Not for her. And not when she’s mine.

Without my eyes on her, without my reach—no. It’s not an option.

Unless…

Colleges need money.

I have money. Influence. Control.

So why not?

If she points a finger at a college, I’ll buy the damn building, the land, the management—everything.

I’ll turn that place into a fortress if that’s what it takes. Professors, guards, security cameras—each one vetted by my men. Every inch will breathe my protection. And yet… it’ll feel free to her.

She’ll think she’s walking through independence.

And only I’ll know…
It’s still my cage.
But a prettier one.

Anything for her smile.

I looked at her and said gently, “Vaniii, come here, bacha.”

She looked at me with those big, innocent eyes—eyes that always melt something deep inside me—and slowly walked over, standing silently beside my chair.

Smiling, I pulled her into my lap, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her closer. She gasped slightly, clearly startled by the sudden closeness. I held back a laugh. Her reactions were always so pure, so unfiltered—it made her more addictive than anything I’d ever known.

She sat there awkwardly, nervous, her eyes flicking anywhere but at me.

“Vani, look at the computer screen, not my face,” I said with amusement dancing in my voice.

She turned to the screen, finally, with that adorable seriousness etched into her face.

Resting my chin lightly on her shoulder, I whispered near her neck, “Tell me, which college do you like? Or where did you ever dream of studying?”

She turned her face toward me with a confused expression. “But why?”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Just tell me, Vani.”

She nodded and obediently turned her focus back to the screen. A list of Mumbai’s top colleges was displayed. She studied them carefully, scanning the names. Suddenly, her finger pointed at one.

“This one. This is good.”

I glanced at the name. It was a fairly modest institution—cheaper, nothing flashy. Definitely not something I wanted for her. My rabbit deserves luxury, safety, and status—all in one.

I scrolled further down, but she pointed again. “This one. Most of my classmates went here. It’s a good college.”

It was better, but still not enough. Not for her.

Then my eyes fell on the second last name on the list.

The most prestigious, exclusive college in all of India.

Elite beyond reason. Admission required an IQ of 200, top grades, and sometimes even that wasn’t enough without connections or donations.

I turned to her. “How about this one?”

She looked at me, wide-eyed. “That’s insanely expensive! The richest girl in our class couldn’t clear its entrance exam!”

I chuckled softly. “But if you got in… would you like to go?”

Her face twisted in disbelief. “Anyone would love it! I’m not crazy! But it’s too much… the first one is fine, really. I don’t want you spending that much.”

And there it was again.

She never let me spend it on her. Not during shopping, not even for clothes. Always refusing, always so considerate. If only she knew how much those “simple” clothes she picked actually cost…

Thank God she doesn’t.

I looked at her quietly, brushing her hair back as she returned her focus to the screen.

She’ll never ask. But I’ll always give.

Because she’s mine.

And no price is too high when it comes to her happiness.

“Okay, okay, fine. I was just asking. It’s not like you're going to college right now.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her expression drop. That innocent excitement dimmed in her eyes.

Damn it. That was the last thing I ever wanted to see on her face.

But I needed to do this right—to surprise her. To buy that damn college and make every arrangement seamless, with her name already etched on the admission list before she even blinked.

Before I could say anything to ease the disappointment, my phone buzzed on the desk, the screen flashing Lucas—not my regular manager. This was the dark side of my world calling.

My voice immediately turned cold.

“Vani, go to our room. I’ve got some work to handle.”

She pouted and asked softly, “Can I take my things or just leave them here?”

I gave her a curt nod, already distracted, and she slipped off my lap.

God, I hated that. I already missed the warmth of her against me.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, I answered the call.

“Hello.”

“Good morning, sir,” Lucas greeted, his tone respectful.

“Listen. Drop everything else. Focus on the work I’m about to give you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sending you the details of a college. I want it bought. Tonight. I don’t care about the cost. Make it happen. And prepare for the immediate admission of a girl—” I paused for a second, the possessiveness leaking into my voice, “Vani Vidyut Russo.”

・。.・゜✭・

_________________________________________________________

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CHRONIC

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