Chapter 2 The Only One He Allowed
Outside the emergency room, absolute silence filled the corridor.
Doctors stared through the glass window in disbelief.
One nurse whispered shakily, "Did he just... calm down?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody could believe what they were seeing.
Ekansh Rathore - the man who had nearly broken a security guard's arm thirty seconds ago - now sat motionless while Aarohi Mehra held his hand.
Not restrained.
Not sedated.
Just... quiet.
Even Vivaan Khanna looked stunned.
He had seen Ekansh destroy interrogation rooms during panic episodes.
Seen him shoot a doctor once for trying to inject him unexpectedly.
Seen grown men shake while approaching him.
But this?
This was impossible.
Inside the room, Aarohi kept her voice calm and steady.
"You lost a lot of blood."
No response.
His eyes remained fixed on her face.
Almost wary.
Like he still expected betrayal.
"You need stitches," she continued gently. "Can I examine the wound first?"
Ekansh's jaw tightened instantly.
That tiny reaction told her everything.
Touch was the trigger.
Not pain.
Fear.
Interesting.
Aarohi slowly removed her gloves and placed them aside deliberately.
"I won't do anything suddenly."
He watched every movement carefully.
Every breath.
Every inch she moved.
Like a cornered animal calculating danger.
Then finally-
A small nod.
Very small.
But enough.
Aarohi stepped closer.
The moment her fingers touched the blood near his ribs, his body tensed hard.
Flash.
White lights.
Leather straps.
Five needles.
Screaming.
"Hold him down!"
Ekansh's breathing turned rough again.
Aarohi noticed immediately.
"Look at me."
His eyes snapped toward hers.
"Stay here," she said softly. "Not there."
The strange thing?
He listened.
Slowly, his breathing steadied again.
Outside the room, one junior doctor whispered,
"Who is this man?"
Vivaan answered quietly without taking his eyes off the glass window.
"The kind your parents warn you about."
The doctor swallowed.
"Gangster?"
Vivaan almost laughed.
"That would be less terrifying."
Aarohi carefully cut open the blood-soaked fabric near Ekansh's wound.
Deep bullet graze.
Knife injury near the shoulder.
Bruised ribs.
Fresh bruising on his knuckles.
And old scars.
Too many scars.
Some from blades.
Some from bullets.
But one scar near his wrist caught her attention immediately.
Thin.
Straight.
Medical restraint marks.
Her eyes flickered upward.
Hospital trauma.
Severe.
That explained everything.
Ekansh noticed where she was looking.
His expression darkened instantly.
"Don't."
One word.
Sharp.
Warning.
Aarohi didn't ask questions.
Didn't pity him.
Didn't give that fake sympathetic look he hated.
Instead she simply nodded once.
"Alright."
That answer surprised him.
Most people pushed.
Most people got curious.
She didn't.
For the first time in years, he felt something unfamiliar around another human being.
Relief.
A nurse entered nervously with medical supplies.
The second Ekansh saw the syringe tray, his expression changed violently again.
His chair screeched backward.
"No."
The nurse froze.
Aarohi immediately took the tray herself before he could spiral further.
"No injections," she said calmly.
The nurse blinked. "But ma'am, painkillers-"
"I said no injections."
Ekansh stared at her silently.
Aarohi placed the syringe tray completely out of his sight.
Then she looked back at him.
"Can you tolerate oral medication?"
A long silence followed.
Finally-
"Yes."
The entire room nearly stopped breathing.
He was cooperating.
For her.
Aarohi cleaned the wound carefully.
Every time pain hit, Ekansh's muscles tensed dangerously.
But he never pulled away.
Because her hand remained on his wrist the entire time.
Grounding him.
Keeping him present.
At one point, while stitching the deeper wound, Aarohi quietly asked,
"Do you trust your assistant?"
Ekansh glanced toward the glass window where Vivaan stood.
"...Enough."
Vivaan looked offended through the glass.
Aarohi almost smiled.
Almost.
"You should've come sooner," she said.
"I don't do hospitals."
"That obvious, huh?"
For the first time-
The corner of Ekansh's mouth twitched slightly.
Not a smile.
But close.
And it hit Aarohi unexpectedly hard.
Because beneath the violence...
Beneath the terrifying reputation...
He looked exhausted.
Not evil.
Just tired.
Dangerously tired.
The stitches finished after nearly forty minutes.
A normal patient would've needed sedation long ago.
He endured everything awake.
The moment Aarohi stepped back, the exhaustion finally caught him fully.
Blood loss.
Adrenaline crash.
Trauma overload.
His vision blurred again.
Aarohi noticed instantly.
"You're about to pass out."
"I'm fine."
"You're absolutely not fine."
He tried standing anyway.
Bad decision.
The room tilted violently.
Before he could fall, Aarohi caught him.
His hand gripped her coat instinctively.
Tight.
Like she was the only stable thing left.
The scent of antiseptic suddenly disappeared.
The panic disappeared too.
Only her remained.
Warm hands.
Steady heartbeat.
Calm voice.
And for the first time in years...
Ekansh Rathore stopped fighting sleep.
His forehead dropped weakly against her shoulder as unconsciousness pulled him under.
Outside the room, Vivaan stared in complete shock.
Because the devil everyone feared...
Had just collapsed peacefully in one woman's arms.