CHAPTER 32
RAGHAV
Late Evening – Market
The boot of my black Mercedes is stuffed to the brim by the time we’re done with the shopping. Between Meher, Ayaan, Baba, and the twins, Siya has somehow managed to buy enough gifts to fill a small store. Not that I’m complaining.
Watching her move through the market, arguing over colours, rejecting dozens of options before choosing the perfect ones, has been strangely entertaining.
As I shut the boot door, a cold gust of wind hits us. I look up at the sky. The clouds that had been hanging lazily above the mountains all evening have turned darker.
My phone vibrates.
“Where are you?” Haider asks the moment I answer.
“We’re still at the market.”
“The weather department just issued a warning. Heavy rainfall is moving towards your side faster than expected.”
I glance at Siya, who is already sliding into the passenger seat.
“How long until you get back?” Haider still sounds anxious. The man practically stops breathing if he isn’t shadowing me.
“An hour, maybe.”
“That’s cutting it close.”
I look at the darkening horizon again. Maybe.
“We’ll take the eastern route,” I reply, getting inside the car. “That will have less traffic.”
“And more mountain bends,” Haider argues.
I smirk. “Relax, Haider. The weather isn’t that bad enough yet. We’ll be back before the storm hits.”
With a resigned sigh, he disconnects. When I get behind the wheel, I catch Siya staring out the windshield. She heard every word, but she doesn’t comment. Not surprising.
I start the engine and pull out of the market parking lot.
For the first twenty minutes, everything seems normal.
The roads are relatively empty, and the rain hasn’t started yet.
But then, the first drop hits the windshield.
Within minutes, the drizzle turns into a steady rainfall.
The wipers begin moving back and forth across the glass as the road ahead gradually grows darker.
“Looks like your shortcut wasn’t such a brilliant idea,” Siya mocks, glancing towards the window.
I keep my eyes on the road.
“I didn’t marry you for your mockery. I know what I’m doing.”
She gives me a glare before turning back to the window. By the time we’re halfway through the mountain road, it has turned into a proper downpour. The wipers are working at full speed, yet sheets of water continue to crash against the windshield, blurring the view beyond the glass.
Surprisingly, Siya’s gaze is glued to the window, a small smile playing on her lips as she watches the rain lash over the mountains.
“This is so beautiful.”
Really? I glance at her briefly before returning my attention to the road.
“It’s just rain.”
“It’s not just rain.”
I already know that tone. The Princess is about to start one of her arguments. She shifts in her seat, still gazing at the landscape outside with fascination.
“I’ve never seen rains like this in Cape Town,” she continues softly. “The mountains look so alive. The trees, the mist… everything feels so peaceful.”
Peaceful? I almost laugh.
“That’s because you’re looking at it from inside a luxury vehicle.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I continue, “What I see is a mountain road with poor visibility, unstable slopes, and enough rainfall to trigger a landslide.”
“There you go.” The smile immediately drops from her face. “Ruining perfectly good moments.”
I smirk. “I’m not ruining it. I’m just stating facts. Unlike you, who’s romanticising this weather.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not romanticising anything. I’m just appreciating nature. Can’t you ever look at anything positively?”
“Positivity doesn’t keep people alive, Siya.”
“Neither does constant pessimism.” She folds her arms in annoyance. “What am I expecting from a mafia prince anyway? You people don’t see beauty. You see just threats.”
Now that gets my attention. “That’s because threats are usually real.”
“And beauty isn’t?”
It is.
I don’t say it aloud, though. A beauty like Siya is far more dangerous than any real threats. More distracting too.
For a while, neither of us speaks. Outside, the rain falls harder with each passing minute.
The road ahead gradually disappears beneath a wall of water, and the headlights struggle to cut through it.
Even the mountains on either side become nothing more than dark shadows.
That’s when my phone vibrates. The network is surprisingly still holding. It’s Haider again.
Spotting a wider clearing along the edge of the road, I steer the car towards it and bring it to a stop.
It is one of the few safe spots on this stretch, far enough from the road to avoid blocking traffic, yet stable enough to wait out the weather if needed.
The engine remains running while rain drums violently against the windshield.
Beside me, Siya continues to stare outside, mesmerised by the storm. I answer the call.
“Raghav,” His voice comes through the speakers. “Two separate alerts just came in. There’s a possible landslide activity reported near Old Ridge Road, about four kilometres ahead of the Pine Crest Viewpoint. You need to get off that road.”
Pine Crest Viewpoint. We crossed it less than ten minutes ago.
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that nobody’s moving. Traffic is already backed up on both sides.” Haider pauses before adding, “The local authorities are trying to clear it, but this weather isn’t helping. It could take hours.”
Hours?
I check the road ahead. The rain is getting worse. Even I have to admit that this storm is becoming a serious problem. The visibility is so poor that even taking a U-turn on this road would be stupid. One wrong judgement and we’d end up rolling down a hillside.
“I can’t turn back now,” I tell him. “There’s no chance of turning around safely. And I’m not driving blindly through this.”
Haider goes silent for a second. Then he says what we’re both already thinking.
“You need shelter.”
I look at the road again. I know these mountains well. There isn’t a single structure here. No hotel, no café, or no fuel station. My gaze shifts briefly towards Siya, who is watching me now.
“I think the Princess and I will be spending the night in the car.” I sigh.
Her head immediately snaps towards me. “What?”
I ignore her and speak to Haider again. “Keep monitoring the situation. The second the road opens, let me know.”
“I will. Stay put. Don’t try anything heroic.”
I almost smile. Before he can continue, I disconnect the call and lean back against the seat, staring at the wall of rain hammering against the windshield.
SIYA
The silence inside the vehicle lasts for exactly three seconds before I ask Raghav angrily.
“Did you just say we’re spending the night in the car?”
“Unless you’ve secretly learned how to stop a rainstorm, Princess...”
“I can’t believe this.” I glare at him. “That’s why one should always think and speak positively. You kept talking about landslides, danger, accidents, and getting stranded. And now look what happened.”
Raghav doesn’t look remotely interested in my talk. Instead, he gives me a flat look.
“Are you planning to give me this lecture for the entire night?” he asks. “Because I should warn you, I’m least interested.”
I scoff at his audacity. “As if I’m interested in spending the night trapped in a car with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
That’s all he says. Then, to my surprise, he opens the door and steps out into the rain. By the time he reaches the rear door, his grey sweater is already dotted with raindrops, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He opens the rear door and climbs into the back seat while I just stare at him.
“What are you doing?”
“The rear seats recline better,” he replies simply, adjusting his seat. “They’re more comfortable than the driver’s seat.”
Of course. Trust Raghav to think practically even while stranded on a mountain road in the middle of a storm.
I watch him pull open one of the storage compartments built into the rear cabin.
It has an emergency kit with first-aid supplies, flashlights, power banks, and even a cosy emergency blanket.
I shouldn’t be surprised. This is Raghav we’re talking about.
The man probably has contingency plans for his contingency plans.
I glance at the front passenger seat, then at the rear cabin, and back at him.
The back seat is actually more comfortable.
Spacious too. The vehicle is designed for long-distance travel, and the rear seats turn into loungers when fully reclined.
But there’s no partition between the rear seats.
Going back there means sharing the same space as him. And I’m so not doing that.
“Get back here,” he orders, patting the seat beside him.
“No thanks,” I tell him. “I’ll sleep right here.”
He shrugs as if he couldn’t care less, and stretches out comfortably against the leather seat.
A moment later, without even opening his eyes, he adds, “Stay wherever you like. Unless you want to wake up tomorrow as a block of ice with a broken back.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Now who’s giving lectures?”
He doesn’t bother looking back. And somehow that annoys me even more.
****************
A small battery indicator glows on the dashboard while rain continues to drum against the roof of the SUV.
Raghav had switched off the engine nearly fifteen minutes ago to conserve fuel.
The warmth the heater had left behind is fading fast, and despite the insulated cabin, the mountain chill is slowly creeping back inside.
I pull my arms closer around myself and rub them repeatedly.
I should have listened to Mom and carried an extra shawl.
The woollen sweater I’m wearing had felt perfectly warm while we were shopping. But now, it feels completely useless. A shiver runs through me. I turn slightly and look behind, Instantly, I regret it.