Samaira stared out of the car window, the world speeding past her as her mind raced. The events of the past few weeks had left her numb, her thoughts jumbled. She had been forced into a marriage she never wanted, her life a pawn in a game she didn’t understand. Aarav Malhotra, the son of a powerful businessman and politician, had been her fiancé, but now—everything had changed.

The cold grip of power that Advait held over her still lingered, his presence commanding and unyielding. She had never truly known him—his wealth, his status, his cold demeanor had all been too much for her to grasp. She hadn’t realized just how far his influence reached, how deep his control ran.

Advait’s power was all-encompassing. He didn’t just own companies; he owned people, situations, destinies. And now, she was tangled in his world. For a moment, she had almost forgotten her own desires, almost given in to his charm, his insistence. But deep down, Samaira knew she couldn’t love someone like him—not when his love had always come with a cost.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden jolt of the car as it swerved slightly. She glanced at the driver, but he didn’t seem concerned. It was then that Samaira felt it—something was wrong.

Before she could process what was happening, the headlights from another set of cars appeared in the distance. At first, it seemed like a random occurrence, but as they got closer, Samaira’s heart skipped a beat. The other cars were closing in. There were too many of them, too fast. The car began to slow down, and suddenly, they were surrounded. The familiar sense of dread washed over her.

The driver swore under his breath, but before Samaira could say anything, Advait’s voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the car.

“Stay inside,” he ordered, his voice devoid of hesitation.

He slammed the door behind him as he stepped out of the car, his silhouette silhouetted by the headlights of the rival vehicles. Samaira’s heart pounded in her chest. What was happening? Why was he so calm?

She saw him then, moving with terrifying precision. Bullets flew through the air, but Advait didn’t flinch. He dodged them effortlessly, his body moving as if guided by instinct, each movement fluid and deadly. He returned fire with equal accuracy, and in moments, the attackers had begun to retreat.

But as she watched, a new figure approached her side of the car. A man with a gun raised directly at her. Samaira’s breath caught in her throat. Was this it? Was she going to die here?

Before she could react, Advait was there. He moved faster than she could process, rushing toward the threat with a determined look in his eyes. A moment later, the man with the gun fell, and Advait was back, making his way to the car.

For a second, Samaira didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared. She had seen this side of Advait—cold, ruthless, calculating. But there was something different about him now. Something sharper, something more dangerous.

He slid into the backseat, his eyes locking with hers. There was no time for words as the car began moving again. Samaira’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.

“Who are you, Advait?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper. She watched him carefully, his face hardening slightly, but he didn’t respond. She thought back to the moments just before the attack. The way he had commanded everything, how easily he had navigated the chaos. How he had put himself at risk to protect her. She had never seen this side of him before. Maybe, she thought, he had kept it hidden from her—maybe it was all part of the game.

"Your support keeps the story alive and thriving. If you’re invested in what happens next, vote now to keep the momentum going!🫠"

“I never knew this side of you,” she continued, her voice more fragile now. “Maybe because you wanted me to love you... Maybe you kept this from me.”

Advait didn’t speak. His silence was louder than anything he could have said.

She shifted in her seat, glancing down at the bloodstains on the car seat next to her. Panic set in when she saw that his arm was bleeding, the blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket. Her breath hitched.

“Advait!” Her voice trembled as she reached out to him. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just a past injury.”

But Samaira could tell this was more than just an old wound. The blood was fresh, and the look on his face told her everything. He was hurt, and he was trying to hide it.

Before Samaira could speak again, the car swerved violently, throwing her off balance. The driver cursed loudly as the car lurched, narrowly avoiding a tree in their path. The screech of the tires filled the air, but they managed to keep control of the vehicle.

The driver quickly apologized, his voice anxious. “Sorry, ma’am. It wasn’t my fault.”

Samaira’s gaze shifted back to Advait. He looked pale now, his face drawn, his eyes barely open. He was fading fast, and it terrified her. They couldn’t even get to a hospital. The car was barely functioning, and the driver’s attempts to call for help resulted in nothing—no signal.

“Call an ambulance!” Samaira ordered the driver.

But it was no use. There was no reception.

“Is there a first aid kit?” Samaira asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the panic threatening to overtake her.

The driver quickly handed it to her, and as she opened it, her heart sank. There, in front of her, was the injury. She could see the bullet lodged in Advait’s arm, the blood staining his clothes. But this wasn’t the time for fear.

Her hands moved quickly, efficiently. "It looks like you didn't treat this wound well and that's why it got so worse, but for now let me first stop this blood flow,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Advait’s eyes flickered open, a faint smirk playing on his lips despite the pain. “Go on, doctor,” he teased, his voice low. “You’ve got your chance to kill me now.”

Samaira’s lips tightened, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she began to clean the wound. As she did, she noticed something that made her pause—a small, dark bullet lodged inside his arm. It shocked her, but she didn’t have time to process it. She had to act quickly.

She looked up at him, her voice firm. “I need a sharp object to get this bullet out.”

Advait’s response came swiftly, without hesitation. His eyes remained calm, almost amused, despite the circumstances. With a slow and deliberate motion, he reached into the front seat cover and pulled out a knife, handing it to her without a second thought.

“There you go,” he said softly, a wry grin on his face. “You wanted a sharp object? Well, you’ve got one.”

Samaira stared at him, stunned by his nonchalance. Despite the chaos, despite his injury, Advait was handing her a knife like it was an everyday occurrence.

She swallowed hard but remained composed. Her training kicked in, and she took the knife from him, her hands steady as she prepared to remove the bullet.

“You’re insane,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Advait chuckled softly, a strained laugh. “Oh, come on, Samaira. I’ve been shot at for years. A little knife work isn’t going to hurt me.”

His words, though dark, were laced with an unsettling ease. It was as if nothing could break his composure. Despite everything, he was still taunting her, pushing her to the edge.

“Just do it,” he added, his voice softening. “After all, I’ve made a career out of letting people do their worst to me.”

She took the knife from his hand, steadying her breath. Her focus never wavered. "It will hurt," she warned, her voice calm but resolute. "But we have no other choice."

He gave a slight nod, his smirk never faltering. "Go ahead, doctor," he whispered again, voice laden with sarcasm. “You’ve got full permission to finish what you started… if you want.”

Despite the dark humor in his voice, Samaira’s heart tightened. Even now, even when he was vulnerable, he was still trying to hide his pain, still teasing her.

Her hands were steady as she worked, focusing only on the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to let her emotions overwhelm her. Not now. Not when his life depended on her.