Chapter 12
The road stretched into the night, a long, endless strip of darkness cutting through the Rajasthani desert.
The black SUV moved fast, the roar of its engine drowning out the storm inside Anvi’s chest.
She sat in the backseat, her hands trembling in her lap, her heart still racing from what had just happened.
She had run.
She had escaped Agastya Singh Rathore.
Or at least, that’s what she told herself.
But then why did it feel like she could still feel him?
Like his presence was a shadow pressing against her skin, like his scent—sandalwood and danger—was still clinging to her dupatta.
Like at any second, he would appear and take her back.
“Pari,” Aarav’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
She turned, meeting her brother’s worried gaze through the rearview mirror. His grip was tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
“You’re safe now,” he said.
Safe.
Anvi swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod.
But deep down, she knew it was a lie.
Because if she had learned anything about Agastya Singh Rathore, it was this—
He never lost.
And he was coming for her.
___________________________________________
The room was silent.
The only sound was the ticking of the grand clock on the wall, marking the passing minutes since she had left.
Since he had let her go.
Agastya sat in the large armchair, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers tapping against the armrest in a slow, calculated rhythm.
Kabir stood by the door, watching him carefully.
Waiting.
Because everyone knew what was coming.
A storm.
A destruction no one could stop.
And then—Agastya laughed.
Low. Quiet.
Unhinged.
His hands gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white. "She ran," he murmured, as if testing the words on his tongue.
Then, his dark eyes lifted, locking onto Kabir.
"Find her."
Kabir didn’t move.
“Hukum—”
The sound of glass shattering cut through the air as Agastya threw the whiskey tumbler against the wall.
The expensive crystal broke into a thousand pieces, the amber liquid dripping down like blood.
His breathing was heavy. Controlled rage. Dangerous fury.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes burning with obsession and madness.
“I said, find her.”
Kabir exhaled sharply before nodding. "It'll take time—"
"I don’t have time!" Agastya snapped, his voice sharp as a blade.
The entire room tensed.
No one had ever seen him like this.
Not when his enemies had betrayed him.
Not when he had lost millions in business deals.
Not when he had been shot and left bleeding in an alley.
But now?
Now that his wife had run from him?
Now, he was breaking.
He stood up, rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck.
His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a man who was about to set the world on fire.
"There is no place in this country where she can hide. She is mine. And I will bring her back."
His gaze flickered to the blood-red sindoor dusting his fingertips.
Proof that she was already his.
She thought she had escaped?
She thought he would let her go?
Foolish, foolish girl.
___________________________________________
Aarav’s car pulled into a hidden farmhouse on the outskirts of Jaipur.
The property belonged to an old friend—someone who owed the Oberois a favor. A place even Agastya wouldn’t find easily.
Anvi stepped out of the car, her heart still hammering, her dupatta clutched tightly in her hands.
It was over.
She was free.
Or so she thought.
Because as soon as she walked inside, her blood ran cold.
A single white envelope lay on the wooden table.
Her name written in bold, sharp handwriting.
No.
No, no, no.
Her hands shook as she picked it up, ripping it open.
Inside was a note.
Run all you want, Pari. But you will always belong to me.
Her breath caught.
She stumbled back, panic choking her lungs.
He had already found her.
Her fingers tightened around the paper, her nails digging into the edges.
Aarav stormed into the room, his eyes narrowing at her expression. “What happened?”
She couldn’t speak.
She simply held up the letter.
His jaw clenched as he snatched it from her hands, his eyes scanning the words before he cursed violently.
“He won’t stop,” she whispered.
Aarav exhaled sharply, gripping her shoulders. “I won’t let him take you.”
But they both knew the truth.
There was no stopping Agastya Singh Rathore.
Not when it came to her.
___________________________________________
The night stretched long and tense.
Anvi couldn’t sleep.
The farmhouse was quiet, but her mind wasn’t.
She kept seeing his face.
Kept hearing his voice.
Kept feeling his touch.
And then—
The lights cut out.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
A cold breeze slipped through the open window.
Then—a single gunshot in the distance.
Aarav’s voice yelled something.
And before she could react—
The door burst open.
And there he was.
Tall. Dressed in black. His eyes wild, furious, burning.
Her world stopped.
She tried to run.
But Agastya moved faster.
His hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking her forward, crashing her into his chest.
His grip was too tight, too desperate.
"You had your fun, Pari," he murmured against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "Now it's over."
She struggled. "Let me go!"
His jaw clenched. "Never."
Aarav ran into the room, a gun raised.
“Let her go, Rathore.”
Agastya didn’t even turn. Didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a dark whisper.
"If you try to run again, Pari… I won’t be so gentle next time."
And then—everything went black.
Because Agastya Singh Rathore had done the one thing he swore he never would.
He had stolen her away.
Again.