CH 3 THE Threat
On the Road
Ashiana's POV
The tension cracked like thunder.
Her hazel eyes locked onto his storm-grey ones.
Cold. Calm. Too calm. For a moment, the silence pressed down on her chest like a weight.
She forced herself to breathe, dusting her kurti and tugging her helmet strap tight.
No way in hell I'm bowing to a man who thinks the road belongs to him.
The guards moved forward like shadows, surrounding her. A prickle of fear climbed her spine—but pride screamed louder. She yanked her scooty upright, legs steady, chin lifted. They can glare all they want. I won't flinch.
Kabir's knife spun, his grin mocking. Raghav's fingers tapped across his tablet. Aditya's hand hovered, waiting. And at the center of it all, he just watched. Silent.
Ashiana swung her leg over the scooty, muttering under her breath, her voice laced with fire:
"Aaj ke baad aankh khol kar gaadi chalana, Mr. Whosoever."
The scooty roared, carrying her away. Her pulse hammered in her ears, adrenaline burning hot. Let them choke on my dust. Nobody owns me. Nobody.
Aarav's POV
She was gone, swallowed by the road.
But her voice lingered. Sharp. Defiant. Unafraid.
Kabir broke the silence with a short, mocking laugh.
"Bhai... ek chhoti si ladki ne Malhotra convoy ke beech road par tamasha kar diya. Aur aapne kuch nahi kaha? Yahi din dekhna baaki tha."
Raghav's voice was cool, analytical, as he slid the tablet toward Aarav.
"Already traced her scooty number plate. Student. Middle-class locality. She has no idea who she just insulted."
Ordinary? Aarav's gaze stayed fixed on the empty road. The ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. Ordinary people don't look me in the eye like that. Ordinary people don't walk away.
Aditya frowned, watching Aarav closely. "Want me to... handle it?"
But Aarav didn't answer right away. He slipped his sunglasses back on, expression unreadable, though the faintest trace of a smirk played on his lips.
"No," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "Let her go."
For now.
Malhotra Company
Aarav's POV
The cabin was his kingdom sunlight, cigars, leather, power stitched into every polished corner. Yet his thoughts were elsewhere.
Aarav's voice cut the silence, low and commanding:
"Raghav... the girl from yesterday. Full information. Everything."
Kabir smirked, tilting his head. "Bhai, seriously? Ek chhoti si ladki jo road pe aapko daant ke nikal gayi... aur aap uske peeche report mangwa rahe ho? Should I be jealous?"
Raghav's fingers danced across his tablet, his expression unreadable.
"Name: Ashiana Sharma. Age: 24.
Lives in Andheri, middle-class family. College student, final year.
No criminal records, no suspicious links.
Just... ordinary." He paused, glancing up briefly.
"Except her father died five years ago in what police filed as a 'hit-and-run. ' The file was closed quietly."
Aditya's brows furrowed. "Closed quietly... by whom?"
Raghav gave a thin smile. "Guess whose rival gang was active in that area at the time? Ricci's men."
Aarav leaned back, tapping his ring against glass, eyes narrowing. Of course. Fate doesn't play games with me. It draws people in. Always for a reason.
The room tensed.
Kabir whistled low, flicking his knife shut. "Wah. The firecracker who shouted at you, bhai... turns out her past is already tied to us."
Aarav leaned back in his chair, his ring tapping once against the glass of whiskey on his desk. His expression remained calm, but his eyes... stormier than ever.
"Ordinary people," he murmured, "don't cross my path twice by accident."
Hazel eyes flashed in his mind again. Fire. Untamed. And fire, once lit, only spreads.
The Office – Next Evening
Ashiana's POV
The office floor was a graveyard.
Empty desks, dim lights, silence too thick.
She stuffed papers into her bag with trembling hands.
"Arre Ashiana, jaldi kar... koi aa gaya toh sawal karega," she whispered to herself, fighting with the stubborn zipper.
God, why do I always get stuck late?
The sound of polished shoes against marble echoed down the hallway. Steady, unhurried, deliberate.
Her breath caught. The sound of shoes. Slow. Deliberate. Her heart knew before her eyes did.
She looked up and froze.
Him.
Broad shoulders. Sharp suit. Storm-grey eyes that seemed to see too much. The same man she had shouted at on the road. Standing here. In her office
Finally, his deep, calm voice broke it directed only at her:
"Still here?"
Her anger surged, drowning out the fear clawing at her ribs.
She planted her hand on her waist, glaring.
"Ohh... toh tum ho. Pichha karte karte yahan bhi aa gaye?
Aur aise khade ho jaise yeh office tumhara hai.
Excuse me, Mr. Whosoever, kal jo hua, bhul gaye kya?
Niklo yahan se. Warna police bulwa loongi. "
He needs to know I'm not scared. Even if my knees feel like jelly.
Aarav's POV
She turned, fire blazing in her hazel eyes again. And for the second time in two days, she dared to spit that fire at him.
Aarav stood still, watching her. She was trembling he could see it but her voice didn't crack. Interesting. Fear in her body, but steel in her tongue.
He slipped one hand deeper into his pocket, stepping forward slowly. "Careful."
Her eyes widened just a fraction. He caught it.
"Before you call the police... maybe you should ask who owns this office."
He let the words hang, watching every flicker of her expression. The sun carved golden light across his face, but his voice stayed low, calm, unshakable.
"You shouted at me yesterday," he continued, smirk curling, "and now you want to throw me out of my own building?"
He tilted his head, storm-grey eyes locking onto hers. The tension between them hummed like a live wire.
"You've got fire, Ashiana Sharma. But fire..." His gaze darkened. "...needs to know whose world it burns in."
And he knew this was only the beginning.