CHAPTER 44 #2
As he walked around to the other side, reaching for the handle, the sound pierced through the air.
A sharp, deafening gunshot.
Mishti screamed from inside the car as she saw Karan stagger back a step, his hand flying to his arm as pain ripped through him. Blood bloomed instantly against the white fabric of his shirt.
“Karann!” She was out of the car before anyone could stop her.
The driver rushed forward, catching Karan just as his knees threatened to buckle.
The airport security reacted instantly. Shouts echoed. Gates slammed shut. Armed personnel sprinted toward the perimeter, one unit chasing the direction from which the shot had come, another forming a protective ring around them.
“I’m here,” Mishti cried, clutching him, her hands shaking as she pressed against his injured arm without even realising it. “I’m here. Look at me.”
He winced but pulled her closer anyway, his uninjured arm wrapping around her instinctively.
“I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You are shot,” she shouted. “You are bleeding.”
“It’s just a graze. The bullet…just grazed my arm. I’m fine,” he assured her, catching his own breath.
“We need to get to a hospital. Right now.” She sobbed.
The driver opened the car door again. With help from security, Karan was guided inside, Mishti climbing in after him, her hands refusing to let go of him even for a second.
“Clear the route,” one of the officers ordered sharply.
Two security vehicles pulled ahead as an escort.
Another followed behind. The driveway was emptied within seconds.
As soon as the car sped away from the terminal, Mishti fumbled into her handbag and pulled out a scarf.
With trembling hands, she wrapped it tightly around Karan’s arm, tying it firmly to slow the bleeding.
Tears streamed down her face as she murmured broken prayers under her breath, barely aware of the words leaving her mouth.
Karan himself was disoriented. The shock had not fully worn off yet. Questions crowded his mind. Who had shot him? And why. But the moment his gaze fell on Mishti, sobbing uncontrollably beside him, his focus shifted entirely to her. He forced himself to steady his voice.
“Mishti,” he said, despite the haze settling in his head. “I’m fine. Look at me.”
She tried. God, she tried. Her eyes were flooded, her lashes wet, her breath coming out in uneven gasps.
“It’s just a graze. Nothing serious,” he said, assuring her again.
She nodded, although her body still shivered. Karan reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, exhaling slowly as if grounding himself through her touch. The pain was intense, but still bearable. Whoever had done this would pay. Hard.
Then something struck him. He tried to reach for his phone in his trouser pocket, but winced. Mishti noticed immediately and helped him, pulling it out carefully since his other arm was injured.
“Call Rajat,” he said quietly.
She dialled and handed the phone to him.
The moment Rajat answered casually, Karan immediately said, “I’ve been shot.”
Rajat’s voice rose instantly in panic, demanding to know how it had happened. But Karan cut him off before he could say more.
“Get your security with you,” he said firmly. “Reach home and stay there with Avni. I’m heading to the hospital. Mishti is with me. Let Abhimanyu know. Ask him to stay alert.”
Rajat agreed immediately, although his voice turned tense. “I’m calling the commissioner right now. Then I’m coming to the hospital with Abhimanyu.”
“No,” Karan said without hesitation. “Stay with Avni. You know this isn’t a coincidence.”
Rajat fell silent for a second. He understood. But more than him, Mishti did.
Her breath caught as she read between the lines. Was he implying her father, Dilip Goel, did this? She recalled Karan telling her how, even while being in prison, her father had tried to harm him and Avni in the past. Was this another attempt?
Before she could process further, Karan ended the call. Her chain of thoughts broke. Her body was still trembling uncontrollably. Karan pulled her closer, holding her against him with whatever strength he had left.
“Stop crying,” he said softly. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I’ll be fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded weakly and leaned into him, one hand gripping his shirt tightly.
“Drive fast, please,” she asked the driver in a shaking voice.
Karan pressed her closer to his chest, then shut his eyes, focusing on his breathing, and forcing himself to stay calm despite the intense pain shooting through his arm.
***************
Hospital
Karan was wheeled in immediately to the emergency unit, his arm already wrapped in Mishti’s scarf. Blood had soaked through it anyway, dark and alarming against the fabric.
Mishti walked beside the stretcher, her fingers clenched around the rail so tightly her knuckles had turned pale. She did not let go. Even when the nurse asked her to step aside, she only shifted enough to allow them access, her eyes never leaving his face.
The doctor arrived moments later, asking short, precise questions.
How it happened. Where the pain was localised.
Whether there was numbness or tingling. Karan answered everything himself, but it was Mishti who hovered close, instinctively stepping in whenever his jaw tightened or his breathing changed.
They cut away the sleeve of his shirt. The wound was ugly but mercifully shallow. The bullet had only grazed the outer muscle of his arm without lodging inside. Blood oozed steadily, but there was no catastrophic damage.
Mishti exhaled shakily when the doctor said, “It’s a soft tissue injury. Painful, yes, but not life-threatening.”
The cleaning was the worst part. Karan’s jaw clenched hard as saline was flushed through the wound. His free hand tightened into a fist. Mishti immediately reached for it, threading her fingers through his without thinking.
He did not pull away. Instead, he squeezed back.
“It hurts,” she whispered, wanting to somehow take the pain from him.
He turned his face toward her again. “I’ve had worse,” he said with a faint smile. “This… this I can bear.”
She knew what he meant. He wasn’t talking about the physical pain but the emotional trauma he had been living with ever since his mom died. And it only made her eyes sting more.
An X-ray was ordered to rule out fractures or retained fragments. Then came the tetanus shot, antibiotics, suturing, and bandaging.
Time moved strangely inside the emergency unit.
Minutes stretched into hours. Mishti stayed rooted beside him through it all.
She barely noticed when Abhimanyu arrived, taking over conversations with the doctors, handling paperwork, speaking to the police officers who had come in quietly to take an initial report.
By the time the doctor finally returned with the discharge papers, it had been nearly four hours. Karan was deemed stable. No admission required. Strict instructions were given. Follow-ups scheduled. Warnings issued about strain and movement.
Mishti nodded through it all, while Abhimanyu arranged the security escort to take them home.
Mishti slipped her arm carefully around Karan’s waist, supporting him without a word.
He leaned into her slightly, not because he could not walk, but because, for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to.
Abhimanyu assisted him to get into the car and then drove them out.
*****************
Wadhwa Mansion
The car came to a halt outside the Wadhwa mansion. Abhimanyu opened Karan’s side door, and Mishti immediately stepped out from the other side, moving to support him. She slipped her fingers into his uninjured arm, holding on firmly as she helped him walk.
They had almost reached the entrance when Karan suddenly stopped.
Mishti turned to him at once. “What happened?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted his gaze to Abhimanyu, who caught the look. A slow grin spread across his face. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and without another word, hurried inside the house.
Mishti frowned, still holding Karan. “What’s going on?”
“Wait,” Karan said. “Have some patience.”
That only confused her more.
Moments later, Abhimanyu returned, this time with Maria. Maria held a rice kalash in her hands, while Abhimanyu carried a puja thali. Mishti froze in surprise. What was all this?
Her eyes, already glossy, lifted to Karan, who met her gaze.
“The first time you stepped into this mansion as my wife… I skipped these rituals,” he said as his fingers tightened around hers. “Not this time. I want to welcome my wife home with the love and respect she always deserved.”
Her throat choked instantly. He remembered what he skipped in the past? And more than that, he wanted to change that memory for her.
“But is this even the right time?” she argued. “You’re hurt. You need rest.”
Karan pressed their joined hands tighter, the movement drawing a faint tension across his jaw, but his eyes never left hers. “Treating my wife like a princess is more important,” he replied. “My pain can wait.”
She stood there, stunned. Somewhere deep inside, she knew now, expecting anything less from Karan was no longer possible. He was going all the way for her, for her happiness. The man had also started flirting openly with her, especially after Jaipur, after everything that had changed between them.
Mishti looked ahead as Maria gently placed the rice kalash near her feet, smiling through her own tears. Even Maria looked relieved and happy to have Mishti back.
“When bhai told me to arrange this while we were still at the hospital,” Abhimanyu said, shaking his head with a soft laugh, “I panicked. I called Komal immediately and asked her how to do all this. She explained everything on the call. This is what we managed.”