Chapter - 3
Sleep didn't come. Of course it didn't.
Why would anything cooperate with me tonight?
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, blanket tangled around my legs, pulse still behaving like someone had pressed a panic button inside me and forgotten to turn it off. My eyes burned but there was nothing left to cry out.
The house was finally quiet. No one knocking on my door after the initial hour where they were asking me if I was hurt.
I turned onto my side and my phone screen lit up with the long list of missed calls and unread messages.
I didn't open them again. I already knew what they said.
Come back, talk to us, don't do this, please don't shut us out.
And I also knew that hearing their voices right now would break the tiny thread holding me together.
So I turned the phone face down again and stared at the shadows moving across my ceiling.
My thoughts refused to shut up.
Rudra Adhiraj Raisinghania.
My father.
That stranger.
Everything kept looping like my brain enjoyed torturing me.
I pressed the heel of my palm to my eyes and exhaled slowly. "Tomorrow," I whispered into the empty room, "tomorrow I'll think. I'll plan. I'll figure out something other than falling apart like an idiot."
But the second I said it, another thought shoved its way through:
What if there is no plan? What if the only choice left is the one everyone hates?
My chest tightened. I pushed the blanket off and sat up abruptly like that would solve anything.
Of course it won't.
Instead, my brain picked the stupidest thing to focus on.
That man.
The one who nearly ran me over. The one who looked at me like inconvenience in human form.
I should have forgotten him the second the car drove away.
But I hadn't.
That annoyed me more than anything.
People shouldn't stay in your mind after five minutes of interaction especially if they didn't even bother offering their name or a basic expression that wasn't carved out of stone.
"Watch the road next time."
Who even talks like that to a stranger who clearly had a breakdown five seconds earlier?
Normal people say Are you okay? Do you need help? Do you want me to call someone?
He asked where I lived like he was doing a background check.
And the worst, most humiliating part? I actually got into the car.
God. I really was losing it. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, pressing my forehead against the top.
I should have tried to sleep again but I did not.
Instead, I just sat there, hugging myself like that would somehow hold everything else together too. As if my arms could hold back consequences, revenge, blood debt and whatever twisted version of fate I had walked into today without meaning to.
A laugh without a shred of actual amusement slipped out of me.
My life was normal yesterday.
Classes. Family arguments. Annoying relatives. Small inconveniences. Mundane things I thought will be the death of me.
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headboard. The wood felt cool against my spine, grounding in a way nothing else tonight was.
Eventually, without meaning to, my body leaned sideways and my head touched the pillow again. Not to sleep but because sitting upright suddenly felt like too much effort.
I blinked slowly, once, twice and before I realised it, my eyes slipped shut.
But sleep was still not around, just exhaustion.
Slowly, sunlight stabbed through my curtains like someone had ripped them open and the house was not so quiet once again.
My eyes opened and for a second I just lay there, staring at the ceiling again.
It was morning and nothing was fixed, nothing was calmer, nothing was better.
If anything, everything was even more worse.
My body ached like I had been fighting in my sleep. My throat felt dry. My eyes were puffy and my stomach was the worst part. It wasn't hunger or nausea. It was that cold dread sitting right below my ribs.
I forced myself to sit up and in a second got out of bed and walked toward the mirror.
One glance and I almost laughed.
Red-rimmed eyes, messy hair and face pale under the morning light.
I looked like someone who saw something coming and knew it and there was no escape from it.
I forced my legs to take me to the washroom and splashed cold water on my face, brushed my teeth and worked my hair into something that didn't scream emotional disaster, tied it back, and stood up straighter.
When I opened my bedroom door and walked downstairs, the house felt... heavier. Like no one wanted to move too fast or speak too loudly because reality might shatter differently if we made a sound.
Mumma looked at me first and her eyes said everything her voice couldn't.
"Good morning." I said quietly, even though there was absolutely nothing good about any part of this morning.
Papa didn't answer. He just looked at me and that was worse. He looked at me like every second he saw me here was one less he would later.
Ruhani bhabhi cleared her throat. "Breakfast is ready."
"Okay," I replied automatically, though food felt like poison right now.
I sat at the table anyway.
A plate was placed in front of me that had toast, Pohe and cut papaya. I forced myself to take a bite.
Eventually, Papa spoke again.
"No one leaves the house today."
"I don't have an option. I have an exam at two." I replied, taking another bite.
His head snapped up immediately, jaw clenching.
"No."
I didn't look away. "It's a university exam, Papa. If I miss it...."
"I don't care." he cut in sharply. "You are not stepping out. Not today."
I set my fork down slowly. "Papa... my life outside doesn't stop because one man wants revenge."
His eyes hardened. "Your life outside doesn't matter if you don't have a life left."
Mumma flinched at his words. Jai bhaiya stared at his plate. Bhabhi pressed her lips together like she wanted to speak but didn't dare.
I swallowed the frustration burning in my throat.
"I'm not asking permission." I said "I'm telling you."
His brows lifted in disbelief. "So now you've decided you don't have to listen to anyone?"
"No." I held his gaze. "I've decided fear won't make my decisions."
His fists tightened on the tablecloth, knuckles pale. "This is not fear, Parthvi. This is reality."
"And this reality doesn't disappear if I hide in the house."
His breath shook just a little but I caught it and for the first time since this nightmare began, I realised something. He wasn't angry, he was terrified.
He wasn't trying to trap me. He was trying to keep what was left of our life together from slipping further away. And that hurt more than anything.
"I'll go." I repeated, softer this time. "I'll give my exam. Then I'll come home. Nothing is going to happen in three hours."
He shook his head. "You don't know what kind of anger that man has."
"No," I whispered. "But I know what kind of upbringing I have got from you and that tells me to not run from anything, no matter what."
That stunned him into silence.
Mumma stood abruptly and walked toward me. Her hand touched my cheek again, trembling.
"If you must go," Jai bhaiya said, "you won't go alone."
"I will come with you." He continued
I blinked. "Bhaiya...."
He shook his head firmly, leaving no room for argument.
"This is not a request, Parthvi."
His words were final.
I nodded because arguing now would only make everything worse and honestly... I didn't have the energy to fight another battle before noon.
After a few minutes, I stood up, placed my empty plate in the sink, and walked back upstairs to my room to study what I could and get ready.
By the time the clock hit 1:15 p.m., I was dressed and standing near the door again.
Blue jeans, a white top and a bag with my hall ticket, pens, ID. all the boring things that mattered yesterday and somehow still mattered today.
Jai picked up the keys again, and Papa stepped in front of me one last time.
His voice wasn't commanding anymore.
"Come straight home."
I nodded once.
"No detours. No stopping. No talking to anyone."
Another nod.
His throat moved like swallowing hurt.
"If anything feels wrong, leave immediately. Exams can be retaken."
I didn't know what to say, so I did the only thing my body could do without breaking completely.
I hugged him.
He froze for a second but then slowly, painfully, wrapped his arms around me.
When we finally pulled apart, Mumma wiped her eyes and kissed my forehead, whispering something too soft for words.
Then I walked out.
Halfway there, Jai bhaiya finally exhaled and said, "You know you don't have to pretend you're fine with me."
I let out a small breath.
"I'm not pretending, bhaiya." I murmured. "I am just trying to function."
He nodded in understanding and when we reached the campus, everything looked painfully normal.
Students laughing. Groups studying under trees. For a second, I just sat there and stared at the entrance.
My palms were cold and my heartbeat was racing as fast as it could.
"You ready?" Bhai asked gently.
"No," I admitted.
"Going anyway?"
"Yeah."
He gave a small, proud smile.
"That's my Pri."
I opened the door and stepped inside and walked straight to my examination hall.
The exam went the way everything else was going in our lives since yesterday, confusing. But I finished it, somehow.
People rushed out the door like they were being freed from captivity, like I did after every exam but today, I walked slower because I was not sure if I was leaving from one captivity or walking into another one.
Bhai was waiting exactly where he said he would be. Leaning against the car, arms crossed, eyes scanning the campus entrance as if trouble was hiding behind trees and when he finally saw me, his shoulders dropped half an inch. Relief. Tension. Something in between.
"All done?" he asked.
I nodded.
He raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting because I have no idea what I've written on the answer sheet in there." I muttered.
He huffed a small laugh that was more tired than amused. "Fair."
We got into the car and he started driving. Neither of us turned on the radio. Neither of us tried to fill the silence.
As we we turned onto our lane, my breath caught in my throat. Parked directly outside our gate and blocking half the street were three black SUVs and my fingers tightened around my bag until the fabric pressed lines into my skin.
Bhaiya saw them too as his jaw clenched and we did not speak for ten whole seconds and suddenly my heartbeat was literally everywhere in my ears, throat, palms.
I swallowed hard.
"They're here, aren't they?" I whispered, though the answer was obvious.
Jai bhaiya didn't sugarcoat it.
"Yes," he said quietly. "They are."
"I am going to get you to someplace safe before I go in." He added and ignited the engine once again but I kept clutched his forearm tightly, stopping him.
His head snapped toward me immediately, brows pulling together like I had just suggested jumping out of a moving plane.
"Parthvi...."
"No." My voice didn't shake, which surprised even me. "I'm not running, I'm not hiding and I am not going somewhere safe while the rest of you stand there and deal with whatever this is."
"Pri," he tried again, softer this time, "please. Just let me take you....."
"I can't." I cut him off. "Because if I run now, I'll keep running. And that's not who I am."
He exhaled slowly, jaw flexing like he was choosing between logic and instinct. His hand finally came up and rested briefly over mine that one still gripping his arm.
"Okay." he muttered, looking straight ahead again. "Okay. Together then."
I nodded, even though it felt more like bracing.
He put the car back into park and for a few seconds, neither of us moved and my chest felt tight.
Finally, I reached for the door handle and stepped out, the cold air wrapping around me like warning.
Three men stood outside the SUVs.
Not sloppy bodyguards or threatening men. These were the silent ones who didn't need guns in their hands to make you feel like one wrong move would mean disappearing off the face of the earth.
Jai stepped beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. It wasn't accidental.
It was protection.
All three of them looked at us the second we approached and my stomach dropped so fast I thought I might throw up right there in front of everyone.
But I took a deep breath and walked in, as Jai bhaiya pushed the door open.
Mumma stood near the sofa, her hands shaking as she clutched her dupatta. Ruhani bhabhi was right beside her, trying to look brave but failing. Papa stood in front of them, stiff like he was forcing himself to stay strong.
My gaze moved past them and then I saw him and he looked like he owned this place just like how he looked like he owned the road from last night.
That rude stranger but what was he doing here?
His presence didn't make sense.
My brain tried connecting dots but everything refused to line up.
"YOU!" slipped out before I could stop it.
Every head in the room turned toward me except his.
He didn't move or blink or even acknowledge me like a normal person.
He just stood there, hands in his pockets, shoulders straight, like this was his house and we were just useless furniture of some sorts.
Slowly, his head turned and his eyes finally met mine and I regretted opening my mouth immediately.
Up close, in daylight and not blinded by headlights, they were worse.
Dark. Unreadable. Cold but not in a dramatic villain way, more like... there was nothing you could throw at this man that would surprise him anymore.
My breath hitched for a split second but I forced my chin up because the last thing I wanted was to look scared in front of him when my entire family already looked like they were about to shatter.
Papa's voice broke through the silence first.
"Parthvi," he whispered and the way he said my name made me feel like a child again, like I had walked into a room I was not supposed to ever see.
I swallowed and dragged my eyes away from the stranger and looked at Papa.
"What is he doing here?" I asked, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be. "He's the man who almost ran me over last night and then dropped me home."
No one said a word.
"I am going to get myself some water." I announced anyway, dropped my bag on the couch and walked towards the kitchen.
I picked up a glass from the rack and poured myself some water from the bottle.
Then my brain, being the slow overachiever that it was, started connecting things I had very specifically not asked it to connect as I sipped my water.
Three black SUVs outside. The men standing with them.
I took another sip of water and it did nothing to wash down the tight lump in my throat.
Mumma's face flashed in my head.
The way her fingers had been clutching her dupatta, knuckles white, eyes so full of terror that she didn't even try to hide anymore. Bhabhi, pressed so close to her that it looked like she wanted to hold her but didn't know if she was allowed to move.
And Papa. He was as still as branch in no wind.
My heartbeat jumped so hard that for a second I thought the glass moved on its own.
"No," I whispered, but there was no strength in it. "No, this... this can't..."
But it already had.
The glass slipped.
It was almost funny how fast it happened.
One moment it was still in my hand, the rim touching my lip, my fingers slick from the water and sweat, and the next my grip loosened just enough. The glass tilted and before I could react, it slid right out of my hand.
It hit the floor.
The crash was so loud in the quiet kitchen that it sounded like something huge had broken, not just a simple glass. Water splashed up my ankles, cold on my skin. Pieces of glass scattered everywhere, catching the light in sharp, ugly little flashes.
I stared at the mess, my chest heaving, my fingers still frozen in the shape they'd been holding the glass in, like my body hadn't understood that it was gone.
Someone shouted my name from the living room and footsteps rushed closer. Bhaiya's voice was sharp. Mumma's, panicked. Maybe even Bhabhi.
I didn't move.
Because in that second with everything around, there was only one thought echoing inside my head, loud and clear and cruel.
The man standing in my living room was not just some stranger who had almost run me over last night.
He was Rudra Adhiraj Raisinghania.
And I was the one who had sat in his car, told him my address and shown him the way home like a fool and he let me look like one all that time.