This is the continuation of anika's story after the attack. Do not get confused.
⚠Warning
This chapter is gonna contain abusive content, if you're sensitive I recommend you to not read it and no, it's not done by MMC-male protagonist.
-Anika’s P. O. V-
~Tick tock Tick Tock~
The sound of the clock echoed through the room, each tick hammering into the silence like a cruel reminder of time slipping away—just like my dreams. I sat at the edge of Yukta’s bed, my fingers grazing the worn fabric of the quilt, its once vibrant colors now dulled from years of use. The bed was soft, comforting, but I felt no comfort, my eyes we're fixed at the blank wall opposite me,as if it held the answers to all the questions in my life. The day I had dreamed of, where everything would finally fall into place, had shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces.
Who would've thought I'd end up here?
I let out a bitter laugh that sounded hollow in the small room. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The soft curtains swayed slightly as a gentle breeze drifted in through the half-open window, carrying the earthy scent of the approaching rain. The light filtering through cast long shadows across the floor, making the room feel even smaller, more suffocating.
The clock kept ticking.
~Tick Tock Tick Tock~
Each tick dug deeper into my chest, reminding me that the life I once dreamed of was now just a distant, distorted memory, fading away like the hope that once bloomed in my heart. I wanted to scream. To break the silence. To stop the relentless ticking. I pressed my hands over my ears, desperate for relief.
Would it ever stop? Would ending it all finally bring me peace?
The soft creak of the door broke through the noise in my head. I lowered my hands and turned, spotting Yukta as she entered with a bowl of food in her hands. She offered me a small, concerned smile, the same one she’d always given when I was on the verge of breaking.
"I know you're sad. And I know food is the last thing you want right now," she said, her voice soft but insistent. "But please, Ani, eat something. You haven’t had anything since morning."
The scent of rice and curry hit my nose, but I couldn’t find the appetite for it. Still, I tried to muster a weak smile for her. "Thanks, Yukta. But I’m not really hungry"
Yukta placed the bowl on the small bedside table beside me, its wood scratched from years of use, and sat down on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight, and she wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug. Her warmth was the only thing that felt real right now.
"I know how you're feeling, Anika," she said, pulling back slightly to look me in the eyes. "But this isn't the end. What happened today? That wasn’t your only choice. It was just one option—one of many. You have more paths ahead of you, and I’ll be here with you, every step of the way."
She pointed toward the door, the one that led to the world outside. "Tomorrow, we’ll walk through that door together and see what other opportunities lie ahead, okay?"
I couldn’t speak, my throat tight with emotion, so I simply nodded, my eyes brimming with unshed tears.
_________________
That night, as I lay in the dark, I could hear the distant patter of raindrops on the roof, a soft rhythm that lulled Yukta to sleep beside me. The gentle sound mingled with her quiet breathing, but it did little to ease the weight pressing down on my chest. I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the faint patterns of water stains that had formed from the last heavy rain.
Tomorrow will be a better day. I repeated the thought like a mantra, but it felt hollow, like all the other promises I’d made to myself.
I turned on my side, watching Yukta as she slept. Her peaceful expression was a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me. She always knew what to say. Always. If it weren’t for her, I wasn’t sure where I’d be. She had been my anchor through everything, and I knew I owed her everything.
I knew there were other options out there for me—other paths I could take. But this, this was the one I had always wanted to work out. I wanted to be a classical dancer. Dance was the only thing that made me feel truly alive, that brought me happiness. I had never tasted victory anywhere in life except in dance. It was my one escape.
But today… I wasn’t even sure if I had won or lost. All I knew was that a door I had desperately wanted to open had slammed shut in my face.
Still, tomorrow could be a better day. It had to be. I looked over at Yukta, her face peaceful in sleep beside me, and smiled faintly. I would always be grateful to her. She would do anything for me, and I’d do anything for her.
With that thought, I let the darkness take me.
-The Next Morning-
The morning light crept through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the room. The air felt thick, the scent of wet earth from last night’s rain still lingering in the air. I rubbed my eyes, feeling the weight of the previous day still settled deep in my chest.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet sinking into the cool, rough fabric of the old rug beneath me. Yukta’s side of the bed was already empty, the quilt neatly folded. I could hear the faint clatter of dishes coming from downstairs. I knew she was in the kitchen with Sandeep uncle, probably trying to help him cook, even though her idea of cooking was far from successful.
I stretched and moved toward the mirror by the dresser, my reflection barely recognizable. My face was pale, dark circles shadowed my eyes, and my hair was a tangled mess. I quickly tied it back before heading down the stairs.
The kitchen was small and cozy, filled with the comforting scent of spices and the soft sound of sizzling food. The old wooden table in the center was already set for breakfast, and I spotted Yukta standing by the stove, stirring a pot. Sandeep uncle was seated at the table, watching me with mild amusement.
"Anika, you’re up!" Uncle Sandeep called out as he noticed me, his usual warmth evident in his voice. Yukta flashed me a wide smile from her place at the stove. I couldn’t help but return it, feeling grateful for their care.
"Feeling any better?" Uncle asked as he poured tea into cups.
"Not really," I admitted, taking one of the cups from him. "But I will be." My voice was barely a whisper.
Sandeep uncle patted my head with fatherly affection. "We’ll make sure you are," he said gently.
The three of us sat in comfortable silence, sipping our tea.The warm tea in my hands brought a momentary sense of calm, the steam rising in delicate spirals. We sipped in silence, the only sounds being the gentle clink of cups. The quiet soothed me, though a heaviness still clung to my heart.
After finishing his tea, Uncle Sandeep stood up. "I have to head to court now," he said, gathering his things. "Yukta, don’t forget to take Anika to Nikhil’s house later. He has her passport and other documents ready; collect them and"
He turned to me.
" Anika, As we planned, you’ll leave for Gujarat tomorrow. Preeti will be waiting for you. Stay with her for a while, and once things settle down, we’ll plan the next steps."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded. "Thank you, Uncle. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you."
Uncle smiled softly. "No thanks needed. You're like a daughter to me."
After he left, Yukta and I busied ourselves in the kitchen, preparing lunch. The scent of cumin and coriander filled the small space, blending with the warmth from the stove. I focused on the rhythm of the cooking, the simple tasks grounding me as the weight of my thoughts threatened to pull me under again.
-Author’s P.O.V-
As Yukta and Anika bustled around the kitchen, the cozy space filled with the scent of spices and simmering food. The small window above the sink offered a glimpse of the overcast sky, the clouds still heavy with the promise of more rain. The old wooden table sat in the center of the room, its surface worn from years of use, but still sturdy—much like the people who lived in the house.
Yuktha handed Anika a pot of water. "Fill this and put it on the stove."
"Sure thing," Anika replied. She turned on the burner, watching the water begin to boil. The steam rose, and suddenly, she was no longer in the kitchen.
-Flashback-
Fifteen-year-old Anika stood frozen, trembling as her uncle’s rage filled the air. His harsh voice echoed in the small, cramped kitchen, every word dripping with venom.
"Clumsy girl! What have you done?!"
She had accidentally spilled tea on his shirt, and the mistake would not go unpunished. Her heart raced as she tried to apologize, but her uncle’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist with bruising force. She winced, fear freezing her in place.
Her eyes darted toward the corner of the room, where her aunt, Nalini, stood. Silent. Watching. Anika’s eyes pleaded with her, begging for help, but Nalini’s face was a mask of sorrow and helplessness. Her eyes were red with unshed tears, but she said nothing. Did nothing. She couldn’t.
"Please, Uncle… I’m sorry," Anika whispered, her voice trembling. But her words fell on deaf ears.
Panic surged through her as she struggled in his grip. He dragged her toward the stove, where the kettle hissed, steam rising ominously. "You’ll learn to be more careful," he growled, his voice laced with malice.
"Please… don’t," Anika begged.
But her uncle's grip didn’t loosen. His face twisted into something monstrous. And then, with no hesitation, he plunged her hand into the boiling water.
The searing pain was immediate, blinding. Anika screamed, but it wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional agony, the betrayal from those who were supposed to protect her. Her sobs echoed through the kitchen as her uncle’s grip remained firm.
The image of her aunt’s tear-streaked face blurred as Anika’s vision darkened.
-End of flashback-
Anika was jerked back into the present, her body tense and trembling. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath until Yukta’s gentle hand rested on her shoulder.
"Anika, you’re okay. You’re with me. Just breathe."
Yukta’s calm voice pulled her out of the storm of memories. Anika took a deep breath, the boiling water on the stove now a distant reminder of a past she was still trying to escape.
"You know what," Yukta said softly, "go get ready. I’ll handle the rest."
Anika nodded, grateful for the escape.
______________
After lunch, they headed to Nikhil’s house to retrieve the documents, but by the time they returned, exhaustion had set in. Too tired to cook, they decided to take a walk to the nearby restaurant to grab some takeout.
-Anika P.O.V-
The cool evening air offered a brief moment of calm as Yukta and I walked back from the restaurant, bags of takeout swinging in our hands. The sun was already sinking, casting long shadows across the quiet street. The path was lined with tall, dense trees, their leaves rustling in the light breeze, and the soft glow from the streetlights barely cut through the thickening dusk.
We didn’t speak much—just the occasional small talk, mostly about the day’s events. But my mind kept wandering, haunted by the thoughts of everything that had happened and the uncertainty that lay ahead. I had barely registered the sound of tires screeching behind us until Yukta’s hand tightened around mine, her grip firm and urgent.
I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see a black van screech to a stop behind us, its headlights flooding the street with an unnatural brightness. The doors slid open, and men—ten, maybe more—clad in black with masks covering their faces, poured out. My heart stuttered in my chest as one of the men stepped toward me, his hand outstretched, ready to grab me.
The bags of food slipped from my hands, hitting the pavement with a muted thud.
"Run!" Yukta’s voice was sharp and panicked as she yanked me forward, breaking the paralysis that had gripped my legs.
I didn’t need to be told twice. We ran—feet pounding against the tar , breath coming in ragged gasps. The men were close behind, their heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The darkness around us seemed to close in, the once peaceful street now a maze of shadows and danger.
My legs burned with every stride, my lungs screaming for air. The streetlights flickered as we passed, their weak glow casting eerie shapes on the road ahead. I could hear the men's footsteps growing louder, closer, the sound of their breath ragged as they gained on us. The narrow alleyways and closed shops offered no refuge—just walls and obstacles that made our escape feel impossible.
The world around me became a blur—trees, fences, parked cars—all blending into one frantic haze as we ran.
"Yuktha!" I gasped, barely able to speak. "They're too close!"
"We have to keep going!" Yuktha’s voice was breathless, but determined. "Come on!"
We ducked into a narrow side street, the shadows deeper here, the air colder. My heart pounded against my ribs as we pressed ourselves against the rough brick wall of a building, both of us trembling, trying to catch our breath. The distant echo of footsteps behind us grew louder, and I could feel the walls closing in. Every nerve in my body screamed with fear.
Yukta pressed her finger to her lips, motioning for silence. We crouched low, hiding in the corner between two buildings, trying to blend into the shadows.
Then, I saw it—a shadow moving along the wall, creeping closer. The silhouette of a man loomed just feet away, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel. My breath caught in my throat, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I pressed myself deeper into the corner, willing myself to disappear.
The footsteps stopped. For a moment, everything was still—so quiet that I could hear the rush of blood in my ears.
I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying they wouldn't find us. But then, just as I thought we might be safe, I felt a hand—a firm, unrelenting grip around my wrist.
Before I could scream, I was pulled into the darkness. The world spun around me as I was dragged farther away from the alley, away from Yukta. But it wasn’t a stranger pulling me this time. The grip was familiar. When I looked up, my heart nearly stopped.
It was him.
My uncle.
My body went rigid, my breath catching in my throat. Every muscle in me froze, as if my body had recognized the danger before my mind had fully processed it. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst through my chest.
"Get in the car." His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion, as he shoved both Yukta and me into the backseat of his car. Yukta’s wide eyes met mine, filled with the same terror I felt.
Before I could protest, the door slammed shut, trapping us inside.
The car moved in eerie silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine. My body was rigid, pressed against the cold leather seat, the tightness in my chest growing with each passing second. I glanced out the window, my eyes catching the blurred lights of the city as we sped through the empty streets. The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows on the buildings, turning the familiar landscape into something menacing.
Yukta sat beside me, unusually quiet. Her usual confident aura seemed shaken, and she kept her gaze fixed on the passing road. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, knuckles white. For once, she didn’t offer me a comforting smile or reassuring words. She was just as disturbed as I was.
The van, the chase, the men in masks—it all felt like a bad dream. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but the pieces refused to fit together. Why did they try to grab me? Who were they?
Then my uncle’s voice broke through the heavy silence.
"Sir, I’ve found her." His tone was low, serious, and full of something I didn’t recognize—respect? Apology?
My body tensed. Sir? Who was he talking to? I glanced over at him in the rearview mirror. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand, his phone pressed to his ear with the other. His usual intimidating tone was gone, replaced by something almost... submissive?
"I’m sorry for what I’ve caused," he continued, his voice quieter now, "but I’ll make sure I don’t lose her again."
Lose me? A cold chill crept up my spine. Who was he talking to? Why was he apologizing to someone for losing me? I swallowed hard, my throat dry. None of this made sense.
I strained to hear the other side of the conversation, but the person on the other end was too muffled, too far away. My uncle’s words were all I had to go on, and they only made my mind spiral further into confusion.
"Yes, sir," my uncle said after a brief pause. "They’re both safe."
I stiffened. They? My mind reeled. The man on the other end of the call was concerned about Yuktha too? What did she have to do with any of this? No, no, no—Yuktha couldn’t be involved. She couldn’t be part of this mess. This is my mess. Not hers.
My thoughts tangled into a knot, but they were interrupted again by my uncle’s next words.
"But sir… there’s a problem." His voice changed, dropping lower, hesitating. He sounded... scared? My uncle, scared? That in itself felt unnatural. He paused before continuing, "There were men—about twelve of them—who attacked before I got there. I’m not sure who they were, but they wore all black."
I could hear the faint voice of the man on the other end of the call, but I couldn’t make out his words. Whatever he said, though, made my uncle’s posture stiffen. His hands gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white. The tension in the air thickened.
Wait! They weren't my uncle's men? Who were those men? If they weren’t my uncle’s, then who sent them? Why did they want to kidnap us? My head swam with questions that only seemed to multiply the more I tried to answer them.
Had my uncle... saved me from them?
I almost cringed at the thought. The word "save" didn’t belong anywhere near my uncle. He wasn’t capable of saving anyone. But now? Now I wasn’t so sure. Everything was twisted, upside down. My uncle was always the villain in my story, but now it seemed like there were more villains hiding in the shadows.
I glanced over at Yuktha, who was staring straight ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked... surprised, shaken. I hated that she was caught up in this. She didn’t deserve any of it. No matter what happened to me, I couldn’t let her get hurt. Not because of me.
"Yes, sir," my uncle said again, his voice back to its controlled tone. "I’ll let you know the details. I’ve already recovered the car's license plate and the CCTV footage. I’ll send everything to you soon. And... I’ll make sure she won’t escape again, sir. I promise."
The finality in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
Won’t escape? My chest tightened as those words echoed in my mind. I’m trapped. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t a temporary setback. This was the end.
The hope I’d so carefully nurtured over the past few days began to crumble. I had allowed myself to believe, just for a moment, that there might be a way out of this—some small flicker of light at the end of the tunnel. But it was gone now. Smothered.
I was back to where I had always been. A prisoner in a cage with no key.
We pulled up in front of the house—no, not a house—the prison I had grown up in. The car stopped, but I didn’t move. My hands remained clenched in my lap, my fingers digging into my palms. My body felt frozen, as if the weight of everything that had just happened was pinning me to the seat.
This place... This can’t be home. It never was.
Yuktha turned to me, her eyes wide with concern, but she said nothing. What could she say? Neither of us had answers, only more questions. But no matter how many questions buzzed around in my head, the one that burned the most was simple:
Why me?
-Author P.O.V-
The dim streetlights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows over the worn-out walls of the building. Anika barely registered the surroundings; all she could feel was the cold knot of fear twisting tighter in her chest.
Her uncle, Jagdheesh, stepped out of the car, his boots thudding heavily on the gravel. The sound alone made her heart race faster. She stared out of the window, her breath shallow, her hands trembling in her lap. Her gaze flickered toward Yuktha, who sat stiffly beside her, her usual calm shattered by the night's events.
The door swung open abruptly, and Jagdheesh grabbed Anika by her hair, his fingers winding into the strands with a vicious grip. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, but she didn’t resist. What was the point? Resistance only made it worse.
Yuktha scrambled out of the car, rushing toward them. "Stop! Let her go!" she cried, her voice frantic as she tried to pull Anika from her uncle’s grasp.
Jagdeesh ignored her, his eyes cold and indifferent as he dragged Anika toward the house. Her feet scraped against the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust, the loose gravel biting into her skin as she stumbled, barely managing to keep up with his long strides. Yuktha followed, desperately trying to intervene, but one of Jagdheesh’s men appeared from the shadows, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her back.
The door to the house swung open, and Jagdheesh threw Anika into the hall. She landed hard on the cold, unforgiving floor, her palms scraping against the rough tiles. The impact rattled through her body, but she didn’t cry out. She was used to this. Pain had become as familiar to her as breathing.
The house was dimly lit, the weak light from the lone bulb casting long shadows across the room. The worn-out furniture looked as tired as the people who lived there. The air was heavy with the smell of damp wood and dust, making the space feel suffocating.
Anika pushed herself backward, her legs trembling as she shuffled against the couch, pressing her back into it for support. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, bracing for what was to come next.
Her aunt, Nalini, stood near the couch, her hands wringing nervously. Her face was pale, eyes wide with helplessness, just like they always were. She watched with pity, tears brimming in her eyes but doing nothing. She had long since learned that stepping in only led to more pain. Anika caught her gaze for a fleeting second before turning away. She didn’t expect her aunt to help—she never did.
Yukta struggled against the man holding her, her voice rising in panic. "Leave her alone! Don't hurt her!"
Anika’s heart clenched at the sound of her friend’s voice, but her uncle’s grip was unyielding. He strode toward her, his eyes burning with fury. In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the hair again, forcing her to look up at him. His face was contorted with rage, the veins in his neck bulging as he glared down at her.
"You bitch!" he spat, the venom in his voice cutting through the room like a whip. "How dare you run away from me? Do you even understand what you’ve caused?"
His hand came down hard across her face. The slap echoed in the small space, sharp and brutal, leaving her cheek burning with the sting of it. Before she could even recover, he struck her again, harder this time, the force of it whipping her head to the side.
Yuktha screamed, fighting against the man’s hold, but it was no use. Anika’s vision blurred, the taste of blood filling her mouth, but she didn’t move. She just stood there, head lowered, taking each hit in silence. This was normal. This was her life. She had thought she could escape it, but now she realized it was futile.
Jagdeesh gripped her hair tighter, jerking her head back so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "You are getting married tomorrow. Just as I planned. And if I hear one word out of you..." His voice dropped, low and dangerous, "...I’ll chop you into pieces and feed them to the dogs."
His words slithered out like poison, each syllable carrying a promise of violence. His eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure, watching her for any sign of defiance. Anika’s heart raced, her mind flooded with terror, but deep within her, something snapped.
I can’t do this anymore.
Her hands shot up, gripping his wrist as he held her hair. Her voice, though trembling, was steady enough to shock even her. "Do it. Kill me. But I’m no longer going to be your dog."
The words left her mouth before she had fully processed them. She was fine with death—it had hovered over her for so long that the thought didn’t scare her anymore. The only thing that had ever kept her going was dance, her dream of freedom. But that dream was gone now. What was left?
Jagdeesh’s eyes flared with rage. His face darkened as he threw her to the floor again. "How dare you defy me!" he roared, kicking her in the stomach. The pain exploded through her, leaving her gasping for breath, but she barely registered it.
He yanked off his belt, the leather hissing as it slid through the loops. Without hesitation, he brought it down on her back. The crack of the belt against her skin was loud, each strike tearing through her like fire. She screamed, the sound raw and desperate, but that only seemed to fuel his anger.
"Leave her alone!" Yukta’s voice broke through the haze of pain, drawing Jagdeesh’s attention. He stopped mid-swing, his chest heaving with exertion, and turned to face her.
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "You won’t listen to me, huh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Fine. But know this—your defiance comes at the cost of your friend’s life."
He gestured toward Yukta, and Anika’s blood ran cold.
"No!" she gasped, crawling on her knees, every movement sending waves of pain through her body. "Don’t! You won’t hurt her. I won’t let you."
Her voice, though weak, carried a new edge of determination. She couldn’t let Yukta suffer because of her. She wouldn’t.
Jagdeesh’s laugh echoed through the room, cold and mocking. He shoved Anika toward Nalini, who caught her weakly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Then you’d better listen to me," Jagdeesh said, his tone darkening as he pulled out a gun from his coat. "You’ll marry tomorrow, just as I’ve planned. Nalini! Make sure this whore looks presentable. The groom won’t even look at her if she stays like this."
"No!" Anika cried, forcing herself to stand, though her legs wobbled beneath her. "I’m not marrying anyone."
Jagdeesh’s patience snapped. In one swift movement, he raised the gun and pointed it at Yukta’s head. The cold metal gleamed under the dim light as his finger hovered over the trigger. He looked into Anika’s eyes, the smirk never leaving his face.
"Still refusing?" he asked, his voice playful, as if this was a game.
Anika froze, her heart stopping. "No, please... kill me if you want. But don’t hurt her... please..." Her voice broke as the words tumbled out. "I’ll do it. I’ll get married. Just don’t hurt her."
Jagdeesh’s smirk widened. "Looks like you’re getting married tomorrow, then." He lowered the gun slightly, watching Anika crumble.
Her tears flowed freely now, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She had lost. There was nothing left to fight for.
Jagdeesh, however, wasn’t done. He aimed the gun at Yukta again and fired, the bullet embedding itself into the wall just inches from her head. The sound was deafening, and Anika flinched, her heart leaping into her throat.
"Okay! Okay, I'll do it!" she cried, the words spilling out in a rush. "Please... I'll get married... just leave her alone..."
Jagdeesh nodded, satisfied, and holstered the gun. "Well, that's settled, then. Try anything else, and next time, it'll be your friend's heart I aim for."
Yukta was released from the man’s grip, and she stumbled forward, her eyes wide with shock. Jagdeesh sneered, “Now, get out of my sight. Both of you. And know this: if you ever try to defy me again, there won’t be a second chance.”
Yukta hesitated for just a moment, her eyes lingering on Anika, filled with guilt and helplessness. But Jagdheesh's cold, unwavering glare left no room for defiance, and with one last, regretful glance at her friend, Yuktha turned and hurried out of the house.
Jagdeesh turned on his heel, his boots thudding heavily as he walked toward the door. “Nalini!” he barked, not even turning to look at her. “Make sure she’s ready tomorrow morning. I want no more of this nonsense.”
Nalini nodded weakly, her voice caught in her throat as she watched her husband storm out of the house, the door slamming behind him with a resounding bang. The echo of the door reverberated through the house, adding to the thick tension that still hung in the air.
Anika’s body trembled violently. Every fiber of her being screamed to resist, but her spirit had already been crushed. She could still feel the weight of Jagdeesh’s hand gripping her hair, the sting of the belt against her skin, and the sharp crack of his slap echoing in her ears.
_____________
Jagdeesh stepped outside into the cool night air, the darkness cloaking him as he walked toward the edge of the driveway. He pulled out his phone, his demeanor shifting instantly as he dialed the number of the unknown man.
The phone rang twice before the man’s gruff voice answered on the other end.
“Sir,” Jagdeesh said, his voice low and respectful, “I’ve brought her home. Everything is under control.”
The silence on the other end was unnerving, but Jagdeesh kept his posture firm. The man’s voice finally broke through the static, calm but commanding.
“Did anyone follow you when you took her?” the man asked, his tone filled with a cold authority.
“No, sir,” Jagdeesh replied quickly. “No one followed us. I made sure of it.”
There was a brief pause. Jagdeesh shifted nervously, his eyes scanning the quiet street for any sign of movement.
The man’s voice came again, more urgent this time. “They’ve found out about her. She’s not safe there anymore. I’ve postponed the wedding, but she has to be hidden for the time being. We can’t afford to lose her now.”
Jagdeesh swallowed hard. His hand tightened around the phone, and for the first time in years, a flicker of fear slid down his spine. This was more serious than he had imagined.
“Do you think it’s him?” Jagdeesh asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
There was a long, weighted silence before the man finally responded, his voice dripping with menace. “Who it was is still unknown. But listen to me carefully, Jagdeesh. Keep her safe for tonight. If anything happens to her, you’ll be the one paying the price. She’s worth more than you can imagine, and my twenty years of struggle would go to waste if she’s lost now.”
Jagdeesh’s breath hitched in his throat. The man’s words had shaken him, his usual bravado gone in the face of such a dire threat. “Yes, sir. I’ll keep her safe. No one will get to her.”
The call ended abruptly, and Jagdeesh stood there for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand. The darkness of the night seemed to close in around him, the cold air biting at his skin. He slid the phone back into his pocket and turned toward the house, his mind racing.
This has become more dangerous than he thought.
He clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he walked back toward the house. One thing was clear—whatever power was at play here, Anika was at the center of it all. And he couldn’t afford to lose control. Not now.
This took longer than i thought.
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