Rudraveer signed the file with a ruthless slash and pushed it aside.
“Cancel my evening.”
Viaan, lounging on the couch with his phone, didn’t even look up.
“No."
Rudraveer’s pen paused mid-air. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
“…What?”
“I said no,” Viyaan repeated cheerfully.
“You’re meeting a girl.”
Silence.
Then—
“Am I being kidnapped?” Rudraveer asked coldly.
Viyaan grinned. “Romantically. Yes.”
Rudraveer stood. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
"Funny,” Viyaan said, finally standing too, “because you run the world but can’t spare two hours for your own life.”
Rudraveer buttoned his blazer. “I don’t need a life.”
Rudraveer buttoned his blazer. “I don’t need a life.”
“Exactly the problem.” Viyaan stepped in front of him.
“Your brother is in college. The empire’s stable. You’re not twenty anymore, Rudra. Get settled.”
Rudraveer’s jaw tightened. “Don’t cross lines.”
Viyaan raised his hands. “Relax, mafia king. I’m not proposing—just a meeting. She’s smart, classy, from a good family—”
“I’m not interested.” Too fast.
Viyaan’s smile faltered—just a fraction.
“Oh?” he hummed.
“That was quick. Usually you threaten me first.”
Rudraveer reached for his watch. “Move.”
Instead, Viyaan leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully.
"You’ve been cancelling late-night work meetings. You leave early. And yesterday—” he smirked, “—you smiled at your phone.”
Rudraveer froze.
Barely.
But Viyaan caught it.
“I don’t smile,” Rudraveer said flatly.
Brother,” Viyaan whispered dramatically, “you smiled like a man in love.”
Rudraveer’s eyes darkened. “Careful.”
Viyaan laughed, backing away. “Okay, okay.
Secrets. Mysterious. Very on-brand.”
He grabbed his coat.
“But just so you know—I will find out.”
Rudraveer turned away, gaze hard, voice quieter than usual.
“You won’t.”
Viyaan paused at the door, glancing back with a teasing grin and sharp eyes.
“Oh Rudra,” he said softly, “that’s what you said before every war you lost.”
The door shut.
Rudraveer stood alone.
And for the first time in years— his thoughts weren’t on enemies or empires…
but on an Angel, His Baby , His Sunshine Viyaan didn’t know existed.
Yet.
Next day.
The meeting room was full.
Voices. Numbers. Power shifting hands like currency.
Rudraveer heard none of it.
His pen rested between his fingers, unmoving, while his mind—traitorous, disobedient—wandered to a park where his angel enters his life.
FLASH BACK
Green benches. Rustling leaves.
And her.
She sat cross-legged on the grass, a novel resting against her knees, completely unaware of the world around her. As if nothing beyond those pages could touch her.
That was the first thing that ruined him.
The way she existed—softly. Fearlessly.
Like the world had never hurt her.
He remembered how he’d seen her that day. He hadn’t planned to stop.
Yet his feet had slowed… then stilled.
He’d stood behind her, close enough to hear the faint sound of pages turning, close enough to notice how a strand of hair had escaped her braid and brushed her cheek when the breeze passed.
She smelled like something gentle.
Something real.
Rudraveer didn’t breathe.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t deserve to.
Her features were etched into him without permission.
The curve of her lashes as they kissed her cheeks when she read.
Her lips—slightly parted, as if she whispered the words to herself.
The concentration on her face, innocent and intense, like loving stories was her only rebellion.
Beautiful.
Not in the way men admired.
In the way wars were started.
She shifted suddenly.
Instinct screamed.
Before she could turn, Rudraveer stepped back, turned away, and walked off—each step measured, controlled, disciplined.
He never looked back.
He didn’t need to.
The sound of her presence followed him anyway.
Only once he reached his car did he allow himself a weakness.
He lifted his phone.
A single photo.
Not her face.
Just her silhouette—sunlight framing her figure, book in hand, lost in a world that was kinder than his.
He locked the screen immediately.
Possession was dangerous.
Attachment was fatal.
Yet that evening— He made a call.
“Two men,” he said quietly.
“Plain clothes. No interference. No contact.”
A pause.
“If anyone even looks at her wrong—remove the problem.”
He ended the call without another word.
She would never know.
She would walk safely.
Laugh freely.
Live untouched.
Because Rudraveer Singh didn’t protect what he owned.
He protected what he loved from ever becoming part of his darkness.
Back in the office, someone called his name.
Rudraveer straightened, eyes cold once more.
But somewhere between heartbeats—
He saw her again.
Reading. Unaware. Safe.
"MINE". His Heart screamed.
Write a comment ...