The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Rudra's cold, calculating gaze remained fixed on me as he continued to taunt, his words slipping out like poison. Isabella stood nearby, her eyes flicking between Rudra and me, a mixture of jealousy and malice etched on her face. My wrists were still raw from the ropes, but my resolve was unbroken.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as Mahir walked in. The change was palpable, like the calm before a storm. He exuded a cool confidence, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if he owned the place. His sharp gaze took in the scene before him-a cruel smile playing on his lips as he caught sight of Rudra.

Without a word, Mahir walked past Isabella, who seemed momentarily stunned by his presence, and took a seat in the chair Rudra had been occupying, leaning back with an air of command. His eyes locked onto mine for a brief moment, conveying a silent promise that he was in control of the situation. It was enough to steady my nerves.

Rudra raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Mahir's audacity. "Ah, Mahir. I was wondering when you'd show up," Rudra said, his voice smooth and collected. He glanced back at me, a smirk curling on his lips. "I assume you're here for your little girlfriend"

Mahir didn't respond immediately. Instead, he surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on Rudra before shifting to Isabella, who was hovering close to his side. She looked at Mahir with something close to admiration, her eyes wide with a desperate need for validation. She took a tentative step closer to him, her hand reaching out as if to touch his arm.

Before her fingers could make contact, I snapped, my voice low and filled with a quiet fury. "Touch him, and I'll rip your heart out."

Isabella froze, her hand hovering in the air. The room fell silent, the tension thickening as my words hung in the air. I wasn't bluffing, and she knew it. Her eyes widened in fear, and she quickly stepped back, her bravado crumbling under my unwavering gaze.

Rudra chuckled, clearly amused by the exchange. "Fiery as ever, Ritika. I have to admit, I'm impressed by your loyalty. But surely you must know that loyalty can be a dangerous thing in our world."

I didn't bother to respond, my focus entirely on Mahir. His eyes were dark, a storm brewing behind them, but his expression remained calm, almost bored. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs as if settling in to watch a show.

Rudra turned his attention back to Mahir, his smile never faltering. "You've done well, Mahir. Your little lady has quite the bite. But tell me, do you really think you can protect her from everything? From everyone?"

Mahir finally spoke, his voice smooth and composed, carrying a weight that silenced the room. "Ritika doesn't need protection. She's more than capable of handling herself." His gaze shifted to Rudra, cold and piercing. "But make no mistake, Rudra. If you lay a finger on her, you'll regret it."

Rudra's smile widened, a gleam of challenge in his eyes. "Is that so? You see, Mahir, this isn't just about power. It's about control. And right now, it seems you've lost yours."

Before Rudra could take another step toward me, I lunged at him, my hands freed and ready to fight. The force of my attack caught him off guard, and he stumbled back, but quickly recovered, grabbing my wrists and twisting them behind my back. Pain shot through my arms, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.

Mahir's eyes flashed with fury as he watched Rudra lay hands on me, and I could see the barely restrained rage simmering beneath his calm exterior. He remained seated, but his body was tense, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Rudra leaned close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "You're brave, Ritika. But bravery doesn't always equal victory."

I twisted in his grip, bringing my knee up sharply into his side. Rudra grunted, momentarily loosening his hold, and I used the opportunity to break free, spinning around to face him with a deadly glare.

"Don't underestimate me, Rudra," I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. "I'm not just Mahir's little fox. I'm the one who will tear you apart."

Rudra smirked, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "We'll see about that."

As the tension escalated, Isabella saw an opportunity and moved closer to Mahir, her eyes filled with a desperate, jealous rage. "Mahir," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You don't have to be with her. I can be better than her. I've always been better."

Mahir's gaze didn't waver from Rudra, but his voice was icy as he replied, "You're nothing to me, Isabella. Don't make the mistake of thinking you're even in the same league as Ritika."

Isabella's face twisted with anger and hurt, but before she could respond, Rudra took a step toward me, reaching out to grab my arm. That was the final straw for Mahir. In an instant, he was out of the chair, moving with a speed and precision that was terrifying to witness.

He crossed the room in a heartbeat, his hand closing around Rudra's throat, slamming him against the wall with a force that made the entire room shudder. The air seemed to crackle with energy as Mahir leaned in, his voice a low, deadly growl.

"I warned you, Rudra. Don't touch her."

Rudra struggled, his hands clawing at Mahir's arm, but Mahir's grip was unrelenting. His expression was one of cold, calculated fury, and I could see the dark intent in his eyes. He was ready to end this.

"Saint," I called softly, my voice breaking through the haze of rage that surrounded him. "Let me handle this."

Mahir hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to mine, and in that brief moment, Rudra saw his chance. With a swift, desperate move, he drew a concealed knife and slashed at Mahir's side. The blade caught him, drawing blood, but Mahir barely flinched.

His eyes darkened further, and with a snarl, he twisted Rudra's arm, forcing him to drop the knife. In one fluid motion, Mahir pulled out his gun, pressing it against Rudra's temple.

"Ritika, step back," Mahir commanded, his voice cold as ice.

I moved back, watching as Mahir's finger hovered over the trigger. Rudra's eyes met mine, a flicker of something-fear, regret, or maybe just resignation-in his gaze.

"You think you've won, Mahir?" Rudra rasped, his voice strained. "This is just the beginning."

Mahir's lips curled into a chilling smile. "No, Rudra. This is the end."

And with that, the gunshot rang out, echoing through the room like the final note of a symphony.

Rudra's body went limp, slumping against the wall before crumpling to the ground. Silence fell over the room, the tension dissipating as Mahir holstered his gun and turned to face me.

Our eyes locked, and in that moment, I knew that we had crossed a line from which there was no turning back. But I didn't care. We were in this together, and nothing-no one-could come between us.