Vinod's fingers drummed anxiously on the table in the Pratap Singh mansion. He picked up his phone again, speaking quickly. "Advocate Anjali Awasthi? Yes… I need your expertise immediately. It's about Yuvaan. Bail… yes, as soon as possible." He hung up, sighing heavily.
Meanwhile, Kiara and Angad drove toward the police station. Kiara's hands gripped her bag tightly, her mind racing.
"I can't believe this is happening," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Angad glanced at her. "We'll figure it out, Kiara. He's Yuvaan. He's not going to stay locked up like some ordinary guy."
Kiara gave a small, tense smile. "I hope you're right. But this… this feels wrong, Angad."
---
Inside the police station, Kiara approached the ACP. "I need to see Yuvaan. Please."
The ACP raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Cellar. Make it quick. And don't interfere."
The air was cool as Kiara stepped down into the dimly lit cellar. There, leaning casually against the bar counter, sat Yuvaan. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable.
Seeing her, his lips curved slightly, almost amused. "You made it," he murmured, voice low.
Kiara's eyes welled up. She rushed forward and held his hands. "Yuvaan…" Her voice cracked.
He looked at her, calm, controlled, but attentive. "Why are you crying?"
"I…" she hesitated, blinking back tears. "I can't bear seeing you here, like… like this."
Yuvaan let out a soft chuckle, almost teasing, but his gaze remained steady. "You know, I could leave this place with a snap of my fingers. Gone. But I don't. Because I want to know who's trying to frame me. I want the truth. That matters more than convenience."
Kiara's hands trembled slightly, but she nodded. "I'll find out the truth. I promise. But… tell me why you went to Aishwarya. Was it… was it because she tried to harm me?"
Yuvaan's jaw tightened. "Yes," he said quietly. "She tried to harm you. That's why I went."
Kiara swallowed hard, her hands still holding his. "Yuvaan… you didn't have to…"
He tilted his head, his voice calm but firm. "No. I did. You know me. I don't act without purpose. And nobody, not even her, gets to touch you.
---
Flashback – Last Night
Aishwarya had entered her apartment, expecting it to be empty. The darkness engulfed the room until she switched on the lights and froze. Yuvaan was casually seated on the sofa, as calm and composed as ever.
Aishwarya's initial shock gave way to delight. "Yuvaan… you're here! How did you get in? Forget that… you missed me, right?"
Yuvaan smirked, standing slowly. "A lot. I couldn't wait to meet you."
He approached her, taking her hand gently and guiding her to a table, kneeling before her in what she assumed was a romantic gesture. "Do you love me?" he asked, his voice smooth.
Aishwarya's heart leapt. "Yes! Of course!"
Then the moment twisted. Yuvaan's hand pressed hers against the table, and with a pen knife, he jabbed between her fingers—not enough to harm her, but precise enough to terrify.
Aishwarya's scream filled the room. Relief washed over her as she realized he hadn't truly stabbed her. Yet he continued, striking spaces between her fingers, each motion a calculated reminder.
"You shouldn't have tried to harm Kiara," he declared, his voice low and icy. "Not even death can touch her without my permission."
Aishwarya's hands shook, eyes wide with fear. Yuvaan leaned closer. "Consider yourself lucky. I don't want to become a killer… yet if you try to harm my wife, I won't hesitate."
He finally released her hand, leaving her shaken and trembling. "Goodnight, Aish," he said, his calm smile a sharp contrast to the terror he left behind.
---
End of Flashback
Back in the present, Kiara's grip on his hands tightened. "You… you protected me again," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Yuvaan's gaze softened, though his smirk returned, faintly teasing. "You think I'd ever let anyone harm you? Not a chance. You're not just my wife, wifey. You're… mine."
Kiara swallowed hard, a mix of relief and love flooding her chest. "I… I promise I'll find the truth," she said again.
Yuvaan's thumb brushed her cheek, gentle, almost intimate. "I know you will," he murmured. "And we'll play this game together. No pawns. Only players."
Her heart beat faster, the slow-burn tension between them palpable, filled with fear, trust, and an unspoken promise.