Chapter 8: Blood and Boundaries

Gauri had grown up learning to disappear.

Her footsteps were always light. Her presence, quiet. She never lingered in one place for too long, and she never looked over her shoulder unless she had to.

But now—after the kiss, after the war Viransh had started on her behalf—she could no longer stay hidden.

Especially not from herself.

She had left his presence trembling, furious, confused. But not untouched. The kiss had branded itself on her lips. His promise had lingered in her bones.

“Tell me you didn’t want that.”

She hadn’t been able to.

And that was what scared her most.

---

She checked into the hotel under a name she hadn’t used in years—Diya Verma. It was the alias her mother had registered for her during their escape from Bhopal. A name that should’ve died with her mother.

But when she stepped into the marble lobby and handed over her ID, she felt a sting of familiarity.

Like she was walking back into the girl she used to be.

She needed to feel in control again.

Viransh Khurana had stripped her of that.

---

For three days, she didn’t go to work. She called in sick.

No visits. No calls. Only texts from Meera, a kind HR assistant, and one chilling line from Viransh:

“I’m giving you space. But I never walk away.”

Each hour felt like it frayed her nerves thinner. She didn’t know whether she wanted him to stay away or come find her.

But when danger finally came knocking, it wasn’t him.

It was her past.

---

On the fourth morning, she was coming down to the café in the hotel lobby when a tall man brushed past her. Nothing unusual—until he paused.

Turned.

And smiled.

“Diya?”

Her body locked up. The coffee cup slipped from her hand and shattered.

She hadn’t heard that name spoken aloud in years.

The man stepped closer. Thin, hawkish, eyes dark as a crow’s wing.

She remembered him.

Ramesh Mahadik. Suraj Mahadik’s nephew. The boy who used to circle her neighborhood on his bike, sneering. The one who watched her father’s body get taken away and laughed.

He grabbed her wrist before she could move. “Wow. You really thought you could hide this long?”

She jerked back. “Let go of me.”

He squeezed harder. “Your lover-boy billionaire poked the wrong hornet’s nest. You think we’d let that slide?”

“I’ll scream.”

“Do it. Let’s see if Khurana hears you.”

---

He dragged her toward a side exit. She fought. Clawed. People turned. Security called out—

But before anyone could intervene, a gunshot split the air.

Everyone dropped.

Except Ramesh, who now had a blade pressed to her throat, using her as a shield.

“You wanna take a shot, hero?” he hissed toward the lobby entrance. “Let’s see what your woman’s blood looks like on marble—”

“Put it down.”

Viransh’s voice cut through the chaos like a storm.

He stepped through the open doors in a black suit, gun still raised, eyes murderous. Behind him were two guards in tactical gear, already spreading out.

Ramesh laughed. “So the devil does come when you call.”

“I told you not to touch her,” Viransh said softly.

“I told you not to poke into old business.”

Gauri could barely breathe. The blade bit into her neck.

“Last warning,” Viransh growled. “You don’t walk out of here if you so much as scratch her.”

Ramesh sneered. “You don’t scare me—”

One shot.

Not to kill.

But Ramesh’s arm jerked, the knife falling, his body crumpling to the floor as one of Viransh’s guards surged forward and tackled him.

Gauri fell to her knees, shaking.

Viransh was there in an instant.

He didn’t speak. Just wrapped his coat around her and lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing.

And for the first time, she let him.

---

Back at his penthouse, she sat on his bed, silent, trembling.

“I should’ve stayed away from you,” she whispered.

He crouched in front of her, blood still on his hands. “I told you. I never walk away.”

“You’re going to destroy yourself for me.”

He looked up, blue eyes storming. “No. I’m going to destroy them.”

“And what happens to me after that?” she whispered. “Who do I become?”

He reached up and gently cupped her cheek. “You become mine.”

She didn’t flinch.

She didn’t argue.

She just leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

This time, she kissed him first.

And when he deepened it, rough and poss

essive, she let him.

Because for the first time in her life, even with the blood and danger, she wasn’t afraid.

Not of him.

Not even of herself.