Chapter 6
Dev
“Mr. Rathore.”
That irritating voice stops me just as I am about to open my car door.
Having no choice, I grit my teeth and turn to face Samarth. I fucking hope he doesn’t push it. He’s already done more than enough to ruin my mood, and whatever restraint I have left is wearing thin.
I arch a brow. “What now?”
He steps closer, his eyes burning with a dangerous mix of accusation and fury. “I know you coming in for this interview wasn’t random. I know you’re here for some twisted reason.”
Fuck. I don’t even know why I came here in the first place.
All I know is that this damn pull towards Meera, the one that’s been under my skin since the second I laid eyes on her, has been messing with my head, pushing me to do things I’ve never done before.
Like offering this stupid interview. But I keep that to myself.
He doesn’t deserve to know a damn thing.
“Why I came here is none of your damn concern,” I fire back. “And don’t flatter yourself, thinking you know a damn thing about me.”
He huffs out a humourless laugh. “Oh, trust me, I know enough to say you’re nothing but a devil in disguise.”
The asshole actually thinks he can call me names to my face and I’ll take it.
What he doesn’t know is that every damn time I see him, I feel like I am losing what little control I have left. Even now, standing alone in an empty parking lot, the only thought running through my head is how ridiculously easy it would be to put a bullet through his head.
“And let me warn you, if anything happens to Meera this time, I won’t leave you,” he threatens, and it makes me go rigid.
My mind immediately recalls Meera’s words: “You’ll know soon enough. And when you do, you’ll have every reason to hate me... properly, completely.”
“What do you mean, something happens?” I ask cautiously.
“Don’t act smart, Mr. Rathore. She’s gone to one of your pubs again. She got a call claiming someone had information for her. But I am certain that call was a trap.”
My stomach knots. I take one step towards him, towering over him, my expression unreadable. “And?”
“And if she comes back with even a scratch,” he says, his voice shaking with real fear, “I will kill you. I don’t care how powerful you are. I don’t care what happens to me. I swear on everything I have, Mr. Rathore, I will not spare you.”
A dark heat spikes through my chest. Every time I see him with Meera, it pisses me off. But this possessive side of his? That annoys the hell out of me. Why the fuck does he care about her so much? I need to know exactly what kind of relationship they share.
But that can wait. Right now, I need to save that stubborn woman from whatever mess she’s about to walk straight into.
Not wanting to waste another second standing here with this asshole, I yank my car door open, slide in, and pull out of the parking lot.
As I drive, I make the call and track her location. Once I have it, I dial the man at the pub, the one who handles the back end of our drug operation.
“Has any woman come in looking suspicious?” I ask, my voice already edged with impatience.
“Yes, sir,” he replies immediately. “She’s trying to get into the restricted area.”
My grip on the wheel tightens. Of course she is. Of course, that stubborn woman would head straight for the one place she absolutely shouldn’t be in.
“No one lays a finger on her. Just keep an eye on her from a distance. If anyone touches her before I get there… God help them.”
There’s a pause, then a nervous, “Yes, sir.”
“And don’t inform my father about this,” I warn, my voice deadly. “If he finds out, you and your entire team will answer to me.”
I don’t wait for his reply and hang up the call. He knows better than to go against my order.
Thirty torturous minutes later, I finally pull up in front of my pub and hurry towards the entrance.
I stride into the pub, my heartbeat pounding louder than the music crashing through the place.
I hardly take in the dim lighting or the packed crowd.
I just head straight towards the restricted area.
Before I reach the stairs, one of the waiters practically sprints up to me.
“Sir, she’s in your office.”
I don’t wait for more or question why she’s in my office. I am already moving, cutting through the corridor meant only for the staff.
Reaching the door, I shove it open and storm into my private office, then freeze. For half a second, the air leaves my lungs.
Meera lies sprawled on the couch, unconscious. Her hair spills across the cushion, and her cheeks are pale. One of my men, the same bastard I’d been on the call with, stands beside her.
His eyes widen the moment they meet mine.
In two strides, I cross the room. My fist curls into his collar as I slam him back against the wall, the frame behind him rattling from the impact.
“I warned you not to touch her. Are you fucking deaf?” I growl.
“Sir—sir—please—listen—” he stammers.
“No,” I snarl. “You explain to me right now why she’s unconscious. Start praying you give me the right answer.”
“Sir, I swear I didn’t touch her.” His throat bobs. “She… she slipped.”
“Slipped?” My grip tightens. “Try again.”
“I am not lying!” His eyes dart towards Meera in panic. “She tried to enter the restricted area, and we were following her silently, just like you ordered. But when she sensed our presence, she rushed down the stairs, missed a step, and fell. It all happened before I could even reach her.”
I stare at him, breathing hard.
“She was already unconscious when I reached her,” he continues, words tumbling out in desperation.
“I picked her up and got her here. But I didn’t…
I didn’t touch her beyond that, sir. I swear on my life.
She wouldn’t wake up, and we didn’t know what to do.
We were scared to call a doctor without your permission. ”
I shove him harder, anger cutting through my veins. “You should have called me the second she hurt herself.”
“Sir, I was just about to call and inform you, but the guard told me you’d already entered. That’s when I sent the waiter to inform you.”
I nod and release him abruptly, and he stumbles forward, gasping for air. I barely glance at him before moving on.
Dropping onto the couch beside her, I gently push her hair away from her face. Her skin is warm, but her breathing is steady. Thank God.
“Have you lost your mind? Why the hell are you always running towards danger? Why can’t you stay still for one goddamn second? Why the hell do you make me worry like this?” I whisper to her in my mind.
She doesn’t move.
My jaw clenches until it aches as a cold rush of fear sinks in at the sight of her lying motionless. I can’t lose her.
“Meera,” I whisper, my voice tight with panic. “Open your eyes.”
Behind me, the man shifts nervously.
“Sir… should I call a doctor?”
My head snaps up. “One more unnecessary word from your mouth and I’ll make sure you never speak again,” I warn, then add. “Leave. And make sure no one enters this room until I say so.”
“Yes, sir,” he says quickly and bolts out the door.
I exhale slowly, forcing the rage down just enough to think. Then I pull out my phone and call my personal doctor—the only person I trust with this right now.
“I am coming to the hospital.”
He replies immediately, saying he’s already at the hospital and will be waiting. I end the call and turn back to Meera. My thumb brushes gently across her temple, checking for swelling, bruises… anything.
“Meera… come on,” I plead, as if saying her name will force her to open her eyes.
“You’re going to wake up, okay? Nothing will happen to you,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whisper.
“Meera, this helpless look doesn’t suit you.
I like you better when you’re snapping at me.
That’s when you’re fucking hot.” I pause, swallowing hard, the knot in my throat tightening.
What the hell are you doing to me?
I’ve never felt this kind of pain for anyone. And definitely not for someone who wants to ruin my family. So why does seeing you like this feel like something inside me is torn apart? This madness… this fear… this pull… it’s fucking all because of you.
But the next second, I shove my feelings aside and focus on her instead.
Sliding one arm beneath her back and the other under her legs, I lift her against my chest. She’s too light, too limp, too damn still.
The sight of her like this drives another shard of fear through me.
I grip her tighter, her head resting against my chest, her hair brushing my jaw.
I pull in a deep breath and walk out of my office, down the hallway.
Every staff member steps back the moment they see her in my arms. My steps are quick and controlled, but inside, I am seconds away from losing it. I adjust my grip, making sure she’s secure.
I push through the exit, and the guard opens the passenger door of the car. I then carefully lower her onto the seat, fasten her seatbelt, and double check to make sure it isn’t too tight. Only then do I shut the door, circle the car, and slide into the driver’s seat.
Throughout the drive, my grip on the steering wheel is so tight my knuckles go bone-white, my eyes flicking to her again and again. I break a few traffic rules, but I don’t care. I just need to get her to the hospital. I need her awake.
Finally, when the hospital entrance comes into view, I feel like I can breathe again. It’s a rough, shaky breath, but at least I am breathing.
I brake hard, barely putting the car in park before I am out the door. I yank open her side, slide my arms beneath her, and settle her against me, pushing through the sliding doors of the emergency ward. A nurse spots me and rushes over.
“Dr. Ramesh!” I bark.
They bring a stretcher, but I shake my head.
“I am not putting her down until Dr. Ramesh is here.”
The nurse nods quickly as if sensing the storm in my voice, and rushes off. Within seconds, Dr. Ramesh appears, his expression serious.
“Follow me,” he says, gesturing towards a private room.
I follow, Meera still cradled in my arms. Once we enter, he closes the door behind us and gestures towards the bed.
“Put her on the bed, Mr. Rathore.”
Reluctantly, I lower her onto the hospital bed, my hands lingering on her shoulders longer than necessary, as if letting go even for a second would be a mistake.
He begins his examination while I stand there, every second stretching into a lifetime. Finally, he straightens.
“Her vitals are stable. She likely fainted due to sudden shock. A mild concussion is possible, so we’ll run a scan, but there’s nothing to worry about,” he says calmly.
The pressure in my chest eases just enough for me to finally take a proper breath.
Nothing to worry about. God, that’s the only thing I needed to hear.
“She’s going to be fine,” he adds with a small, reassuring smile.
I nod, but my eyes never leave Meera.
Once alone, I sink down onto the edge of the bed beside her and lean closer. My hand brushes gently through her hair. My eyes sting, and I blink hard, but it doesn’t stop the burn.
“You’re turning me into an emotional fool.” My thumb grazes her temple. “I don’t cry for anyone,” I mutter under my breath. “Definitely not for someone who hates me.” A humourless smile tugs at my lips. “But look at me… losing my damn mind over you.”
For the first time since I found her unconscious in my office, the truth hits me with sudden clarity.
Her being okay isn’t just important. It’s everything.
It’s the only thing that matters. The only reason I can still breathe.