Then—

Headlights.

A sharp screech of tires.

A black jeep skidded to a halt a few meters ahead, and her heart leapt into her throat.

Three figures stepped out.

Her stomach dropped.

She recognized them instantly — the same boys who had harassed her and Reeva that night outside the café.

The one in front smirked, stepping closer, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Well, well... look who we have here," he sneered. "The feisty one."

Jhanvi's grip on her bag tightened, though her pulse raced wildly. "Move," she said firmly. "I'm warning you."

The boy laughed, taking another step. "Warning me? Sweetheart, there's no one here to save you tonight."

Her jaw clenched. "Touch me and you'll regret it."

But before she could move, another grabbed her wrist — rough and forceful.

"Leave me!" she shouted, yanking against his hold.

Her bag fell to the ground, scattering her phone and keys. One of them caught her other wrist, laughter echoing around her.

Tears pricked at her eyes — not of fear, but of sheer helpless rage.

"Let me go!" she cried again, struggling as they mocked her.

"Relax, baby," one taunted, brushing his hand against her arm. "We just wanna—"He didn't finish.

Because in the next instant, he was flying.

A hard blow sent him crashing against the jeep, his body hitting the metal with a sickening thud.

The laughter stopped.

The remaining two turned-only to see a man standing in the middle of the road, his face carved in stone, his eyes a storm of fury.

"Who the hell are you—" one began.

The man didn't answer. He just moved.

A punch. A kick. The sound of impact echoed through the night.

The streetlight flickered above them, throwing flashes of gold across his face — his expression cold, emotionless, terrifyingly calm.

Jhanvi stood frozen, her breath ragged, her hands trembling.

The man turned to her slowly it was Dev— his chest rising and falling sharply. There was blood on his knuckles.

 His hair had fallen slightly over his forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly it trembled.

He stepped forward.

Before she could react, his hand gripped her arm — tight, almost bruising.

"Mr. Singhania—!" she gasped, trying to pull away. "You're hurting me!"

He didn't loosen his hold. His voice came low, calm... and chillingly controlled.

"What were you thinking, walking alone this late?"

"I said let go!"

He didn't. His fingers dug deeper into her skin, his face inches from hers now. His tone dropped further — dangerous, obsessive.

"Do you even realize what could've happened if I wasn't here?" he murmured, his eyes

 darkening. "Do you ever think before walking into danger, Miss Bisht?"

She froze — not because of his words, but the way he said them. His voice wasn't loud.

 It was quiet... too quiet. Like someone trying to hide chaos beneath restraint.

Her pulse raced. "You're scaring me," she whispered.

Dev's eyes flickered — a brief, almost human crack in his composure. Then he looked down at her arm where his grip had left faint red marks. 

His thumb brushed over them slowly, almost apologetically... but he didn't step back.

"Mr. Singhania—please—" she tried to pull back, but he moved in step with her, refusing to let her gain distance.

Dev looked at her for another long, silent moment — the streetlight reflecting in his eyes, making them look almost predatory.

 Then, in that same calm, commanding tone, he said:

"Get in the car, Miss Bhist."

"W-what?"

"I'm not going with you," Jhanvi said firmly, stepping back. 

"Who do you think you are, Mr. Singhania? Thank you for saving me, but that doesn't mean I'll get in your car."

Dev's jaw tightened. His eyes darkened, and a muscle flicked near his temple. Then he muttered under his breath, "Fuck it."

Before Jhanvi could react, he walked straight toward her, lifted her off the ground, and threw her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" she shouted, hitting his back with her fists. 

"Mr. Singhania! You can't touch me like this! I'll complain against you!"

But Dev didn't stop. He opened the car door, placed her on the seat gently. His movements were calm, almost too calm — the kind that made her even more nervous.

Jhanvi glared at him, breathing hard. But before she could say anything, Dev leaned down until his face was just a few inches from hers.

 His voice dropped low, smooth, and dangerous.

"I don't like hearing no," he said, eyes locked on hers.

He reached over, pulled the seatbelt across her, and clicked it into place. Jhanvi jerked back and pushed his hand away, her heart pounding.

"Let me out," she said sharply. "Right now."

Dev didn't answer. He went around, sat in the driver's seat, and started the car. The sound of the engine filled the silence between them.

"Where are you taking me?" Jhanvi asked, her voice trembling a little.

"To make sure you reach home safely," he said flatly, eyes on the road.

 "And to make sure you understand what danger really looks like."

"I don't need your lessons," she snapped, crossing her arms.

his gaze lingered on her face before he muttered, "Just tell me where your damn house is."

"Sector 7," she bit out, looking away. "Near the municipal park. And stop talking to me like that."

Dev smirked faintly. "Then stop acting like a child who doesn't value her life."

The car moved through the quiet streets. The night outside was silent, but inside the car, tension filled every inch of space.

 Jhanvi stared out the window, her mind racing.

She didn't know what scared her more — the men who tried to hurt her, or the man driving her home who scared her in a completely different way.

She told him to stop as soon as they reached the lane near her house. 

"Here, please — stop here," Jhanvi said, voice fast and nervous.

Dev didn't argue. He pulled the car to the curb. Jhanvi opened the door, stepped out, and walked away quickly without looking back. 

Her shoulders were tight; her steps were small and hurried.

Dev watched her go. For a long moment he just sat there, the engine ticking as it cooled. 

Then he inhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a second like he was memorising the moment.

"Mmmm... gulab," he murmured to himself — the nickname he'd given her the first time he saw her.

The word tasted like something soft and dangerous on his tongue.

"You don't know what you do to me," he whispered, voice low and possessed.

His face hardened as the memory of the boys' hands on her flashed through his mind.

The warmth drained from him and a cold, tight anger took its place. He picked up his phone, thumbed a number, and spoke with flat control.

"I'm sending you the location. Pick them up. Bring them to me. Don't kill them — not yet. I want them to remember who interfered," he said, every syllable slow and precise.

He ended the call, eyes fixed on the dark street where she had disappeared. 

The smirk returned for a heartbeat, but it was thinner now — edged with something far more dangerous than amusement.

Dev started the car and drove off into the night, but his mind stayed where she had been, following her every step.