[Priya’s POV]
The past two days had passed in a blur, yet every moment felt intense, intimate, and strangely comforting. Aarav sir had been there constantly, helping me walk when my legs still felt weak, feeding me carefully with his hand when I couldn’t manage on my own. After the police officers had left, a little while later I quietly asked him again how he had found out about the accident, and he simply gave me a same calm, confident answer.
“I was on my way home, and then I saw the auto get into an accident. You were in it. I couldn’t leave you there, so I brought you here.”
I hadn’t questioned it further. Somehow, I had believed him completely.
Those two days showed me something I hadn't expected. When Aarav sir was with me, the hospital room didn't feel lonely or scary, it felt safe, almost like a family.
And today… Today I’m finally going to be discharged from the hospital. My heart is pounding at the thought of leaving the hospital and going back out into the world. But at the same time, I feel a strange sense of hesitation. In these two days, I've realized how much I depend on him, and how natural it felt to have him by my side.
I took a deep breath, adjusting the shawl over my shoulders. “Today,” I whispered to myself, “I'm going home.”
[Author’s POV]
By mid-morning, the discharge papers were ready. Priya sat on the edge of the hospital bed, still weak, her hands clutching the shawl around her. Aarav stood nearby, his gaze sharp and alert, assessing her carefully.
“You shouldn’t walk yet,” he said firmly. “I’ll carry you.”
Before she could protest, he bent slightly and scooped her up in his arms, holding her close in a bridal-style embrace. Her heart skipped and a rush of heat spread across her cheeks as people in the hallway glanced their way. She felt shy, embarrassed, unsure where to look as whispers and curious stares followed them.
Aarav noticed her hesitation immediately. Leaning his head closer to hers, he murmured softly, almost in a private world, “Don’t feel embarrassed. It’s my arms, not theirs.”
His grip around her tightened slightly, steady and protective, and Priya realized, without understanding why, that she felt safe in his arms. She couldn’t look away, staring at him, the intensity of his presence making her pulse race.
Through the long hospital corridor, he moved confidently, his steps strong and measured. Nurses walked behind them, holding her belongings, offering quiet assistance without intruding.
When they reached the hospital entrance, Aarav glanced at the nurse walking beside them. She immediately understood, stepping ahead to open the front passenger door of the car.
Without breaking stride, he shifted Priya slightly in his arms and lowered her carefully into the seat. Her fingers still clutched the shawl as if it were her last anchor, but her gaze never wavered from his face.
He leaned in, his hand brushing past her as he fastened the seat belt, the faint scent of his cologne surrounding her. For a moment, the world outside blurred, there was only the sound of the belt clicking into place and the steady, unhurried rhythm of his movements.
Straightening, Aarav closed the door firmly before taking the small bag of her belongings from the nurse. Then, with the same quiet composure, he walked around the car to the driver’s side, every step carrying that unspoken sense of control that somehow made Priya feel… safe.
The car engine hummed softly as Aarav guided it out of the hospital driveway. Priya sat quietly in the passenger seat, the faint scent of antiseptic still lingering in her mind from the hospital corridors. Her shawl rested lightly over her shoulders and yet her focus wasn’t on the road ahead, it was on him.
Her gaze drifted to Aarav’s profile, the strong jawline, the calm focus in his eyes, the way his hands moved steadily on the steering wheel. She didn’t know why she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to look away.
Realizing what she was doing, she quickly turned her head toward the window, watching the city blur past. ‘What is happening to me?’ she wondered. ‘Why am I feeling something I don’t want to name?’ Her thoughts tangled into knots she wasn’t ready to untie.
A few minutes later, she noticed the scenery changing and not in the way she expected. This wasn’t the way to her apartment. She glanced at him and spoke softly, “Sir… you took the wrong way.”
His eyes stayed on the road. “This is the right way, Priya.”
She frowned. “N…no sir, my apartment is the other—”
“Priya,” his tone was firm but not cold, “keep quiet. I’m driving.”
The calm certainty in his voice left no space for argument. Priya pressed her lips together and turned back to the window, saying nothing more. The silence between them felt heavy, charged with something she couldn’t quite define.
After 45 minutes, the car enters the basement parking of a luxury high-rise. The space is spotless, with marble pillars and quiet security cameras clearly a place meant for the elite, the kind Priya has only seen on TV.
Aarav kills the engine and steps out without a word. A second later, her door opens, and she sees him standing there, framed by the muted light, his gaze steady on her.
Priya’s eyes darted around nervously. The tall, silent security guard by the far wall, the luxury cars lined in perfect symmetry, the air of quiet exclusivity, it all feels alien and intimidating. Aarav catches the flicker of uncertainty in her expression.
“Don’t worry,” he says dryly, a faint curve touching his lips. “I’m not kidnapping you.”
Her lips part to respond, but before she can, he leans down and scoops her into his arms again.
“Sir, I can walk… please put me down, please sir.” she protests, her voice soft but edged with discomfort.
“No.” His reply is calm but unyielding, his grip steady as he lifts her fully from the seat. Without giving her a chance to argue further, he turns and starts toward the elevator, his strides purposeful.
The moment they step inside, the mirrored walls catch her nervous eyes, reflecting her uncertainty back at her. Aarav adjusts his hold just enough to free one of her hands.
“Press the penthouse button,” he tells her, voice low but firm.
She hesitates, her gaze flicking between the sleek panel of buttons and his unreadable profile. Then, slowly, she reaches out and presses the topmost one Penthouse. The doors slide shut, sealing them in a world that feels far too distant from hers.
The elevator moved with a near-silent glide, but to Priya, every passing floor felt like an eternity. She could feel the steady thud of Aarav’s heartbeat through his shirt, the faint scent of his cologne warm, expensive curling around her senses.
Avoiding his gaze, she kept her eyes fixed on the illuminated floor numbers. "Why did he bring me here?" This thought grew heavier with each ding of the elevator.
When the elevator stopped, the doors slid open to a private foyer—no corridor, no neighbors. Just a single, imposing double door framed in dark wood and brushed gold accents. Aarav carried her forward, unlocking it with a sleek digital panel.
The door swung open, and Priya’s breath caught.
It wasn’t just a house, it was another world. A vast living space stretched out before her, bathed in the warm glow of recessed lights. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows revealed the glittering Bangalore skyline, the city lights sparkling like scattered jewels. Plush, black-colored sofas sat atop a thick rug that looked softer than clouds.
Aarav stepped inside, his shoes sinking into the plush carpet. “Welcome,” he said simply, as if bringing someone here was an everyday thing.
Priya’s fingers twisted in her shawl. “Aarav sir… why are we here?” Her voice was quiet, uncertain.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he began walking toward the sofa, still holding her. “You’re injured and I don’t trust anyone else to make sure you recover properly.”
Her breath caught again, this time for reasons she couldn’t quite name.
He lowered her onto the sofa with surprising care, straightening the shawl over her shoulders before stepping back. “Sit. I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
[Priya’s POV]
He lowered me onto the sofa with surprising care, straightening the shawl over my shoulders before stepping back.
“Sit. I’ll get the first-aid kit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
As he turned, my eyes caught movement in the corner of the room. Two women stood there, neatly dressed, hands clasped in front of them, heads slightly bowed like they had been waiting for this exact moment. My brows knit in confusion. I hadn’t even noticed them before.
His voice broke the silence. “You know what I told you yesterday,” he said, looking directly at them. “And I am repeating again so you both don’t make mistakes. Her bedroom should clean every day, fresh sheets, clean blankets, extra pillows. Her clothes should be arranged in the wardrobe, so she doesn't have to find them and prepare light food, nothing too oily or spicy and it should be ready in the next twenty minutes. Keep warm water at her bedside and check on her every hour. If she needs something, call me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied together, their tone respectful but firm.
“Good,” he said, his gaze brushing over me for the briefest second before turning away. “Now, go. Do as I’ve told you.”
The women gave a small bow and walked down the hallway, their quiet footsteps fading. I sat there frozen, trying to process what I’d just heard. If he’d given them instructions yesterday… then that meant he had planned for me to be here. Long before I had any idea I would be.
The sound of his returning footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. Aarav Sir came back with the first-aid kit, his expression unreadable. He sat beside me, opening the box and pulling out fresh gauze and antiseptic.
“Hold still,” he murmured, leaning closer as he began unwrapping the bandage on my forehead.
I swallowed hard. “Sir… I can’t stay here. I want to go back to my apartment. Please sir.”
His hands paused mid-motion, the strip of gauze hanging loosely between his fingers. For a brief second, his eyes darkened, something unreadable flickering in them, before he continued winding the fresh bandage around my head without a word.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Sir… did you hear me?” My voice was soft but insistent, desperate for some kind of response.
Still, he stayed silent.
Frustration bubbled in my chest. I reached up and lightly held his wrist, forcing him to stop. “Sir?”
He finally looked at me, his gaze steady and intense. “You are not going anywhere,” he said, his tone low but absolute. “You’re going to stay here from today. And I don’t want to hear anything, especially you saying no to me.”
My breath caught at the finality in his voice.
Without another word, he stood and walked toward the front door. His hand rested briefly on the handle before he stopped, still facing away from me.
“If you need anything, just call me or tell the maids,” he said, his voice cutting through the air. “And you’re not going to the office for at least twenty days.”
Then he opened the door and stepped out, leaving me alone in the silent, unfamiliar room.
[Aarav’s POV]
I shut the door behind me, the quiet click echoing in the stillness of the penthouse hallway. For a moment, I just stood there, my hand still resting on the handle. Her voice still echoed in my head soft, hesitant, but stubborn. ‘I want to go to my apartment.’
My jaw tightened. She still didn’t understand. After everything that happened, after I’d already prepared this place for her comfort yesterday, she still thought she had a choice.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped inside. As the numbers descended, my fingers tapped against the railing. Twenty days, that’s the minimum she needs to recover physically. Mentally… Well, that will take longer. But that’s fine. I have time.
The doors opened again into the dimly lit basement parking lot. The smell of concrete and faint gasoline filled the air as I walked toward my car.
She was in the penthouse, probably still staring at the door I’d just closed, trying to make sense of my decision.
Good. Let her think. Let her realize there’s no escaping the space I’ve put her in. Not anymore.
[Priya’s POV]
I was still sitting on the sofa, the shawl loosely hanging around my shoulders, my eyes fixed on the closed door he had walked out of twenty minutes ago. My mind kept circling the same question over and over ‘why did he bring me here? This wasn’t my apartment. This wasn’t where I belonged.’
The sound of light footsteps interrupted my thoughts. A maid approached, a sweet, almost nervous smile on her face.
“Ma’am, please have your meal,” she said, her voice polite but firm. “After that, you have to take your medicine.”
“I’m not hungry right now,” I murmured, shifting slightly on the sofa.
Her expression faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered. “Please eat. Sir strictly said you have to eat on time… or he will fire us. Please, ma’am.”
That made me look at her properly for the first time. She couldn’t be much older than me, maybe not at all. “Don’t say please. And call me Priya. It looks like we’re the same age.”
She shook her head almost instantly, her eyes dropping to the floor. “No, ma’am. We can’t.”
I didn’t argue after that. What was the point? Words didn’t change rules in this place, it was clear who set them.
She stepped forward, her hands light on my arm, guiding me up from the sofa. “Come,” she said softly. “The food is ready.”
I let her lead me, my steps slow, toward the dining area. The clink of dishes and the faint aroma of warm food filled the air, but none of it stirred my appetite.
Why is he treating me so nicely? Why me?
.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued………
Write a comment ...