The hospital smelled like iron and antiseptic. It was just past 8 AM, and the labor ward was already screaming with chaos—and women.
Aarohi was in her zone. Gloved up, hair tightly braided, eyes sharp behind her glasses.
"BP 150/100. She's in labor but there's fetal distress," the nurse reported as Aarohi scrubbed in.
“I’m going in,” she said, taking the lead as interns scrambled to assist.
Her hands moved like a storm under control—clean, fast, fierce. The baby was out in minutes, the mother stable, the room filled with that first sacred cry.
Reet Khurana leaned against the glass panel outside the OT, arms folded, watching through the window with a mix of awe and exasperation.
When Aarohi finally stepped out, Reet handed her a protein bar and a water bottle.
“Adrenaline junkie with goddess complex. You’re textbook.”
Aarohi grinned. “I’m also starving and on two hours of sleep.”
Reet clicked her tongue. “Classic delusion. Don’t make me write a paper on you.”
“You probably already are.”
“I’d title it ‘The Woman Who Challenged God and Her HOD.’” Reet smirked, pushing up her glasses.
They both laughed, walking toward the staff lounge.
Until they saw the bouquet.
All black roses. Tied with a velvet ribbon. No sender name. Just a deep red envelope with golden ink:
For Dr. Aarohi Mehta
Reet blinked. “This is either extremely romantic or a full-blown criminal red flag.”
Aarohi took one step back. “Definitely red flag.”
“Let’s not rule out psychological manipulation just yet,” Reet added helpfully. “Could be an emotionally repressed man-child. Or a stalker. Could be both.”
---
🌧️ Later That Evening
Rain soaked Delhi’s streets. Aarohi pulled her hoodie tighter as she exited the hospital after a 12-hour shift.
Her phone battery was dying. She walked briskly down the empty lane, breathing in damp asphalt and leftover anxiety.
Something felt... wrong.
She looked over her shoulder.
The street was empty.
Except for the black SUV, parked under a flickering lamppost. Silent. Unmoving.
She quickened her pace. The SUV didn’t follow, but its presence was a scream in the silence.
When she finally reached the hostel gates, it flashed its headlights—once—then turned away.
---
🛏️ Reet’s Room – Midnight
Reet listened quietly as Aarohi recounted everything.
“The same SUV. Same as the gala night. I didn’t imagine it.”
Reet leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “That’s hypervigilance. And you’ve got decent pattern recall. We’re either dealing with paranoia—or premeditated psychological control.”
“Can you not talk like I’m your case study?”
Reet shrugged. “Can you not be a walking trauma magnet?”
Aarohi sighed. “Do I tell my dad?”
“You should. But he won’t tell you anything. He’s hiding something. I’ve noticed.”
Aarohi stared. “You’ve met him twice.”
“I read people, babe. It’s literally my job.”
---
🕶️ Somewhere in the Underworld
Aarav Malhotra wasn't in a suit tonight.
He was in a black T-shirt, sweat clinging to his skin, veins visible on his arms. 6'1" of quiet, carved fury. His fists were still bruised from his last negotiation.
His eyes, however, were calm—focused on security footage showing Aarohi leaving the hospital.
“She noticed the car,” Yuvaan Khan commented. “She’s smart.”
“She’s scared,” Aarav said flatly. “Good. Fear keeps people alive.”
Yuvaan raised a brow. “You care whether she lives now?”
Aarav didn’t answer. He walked over to the table where blueprints, weapons, and a black envelope lay.
“This girl,” Yuvaan muttered, “is crawling under your skin.”
“She’s fire,” Aarav said quietly. “And I’ve lived in the cold too long.”
Outside, his empire moved like a machine. Bribes. Arms shipments. Fake identities. Secrets.
But for once, his focus was not on war. It was on a woman who didn’t bow, didn’t flirt, and didn’t care who he was.
And that…
was dangerous.
--
The next morning, Aarohi finds another envelope on her desk.
Inside:
A photograph of her… standing at her father's office door.
On the back:
“Tell your father his time is up.”
---
Do you like my story so far please tell me about it
And also give me suggestions if I should change anything or add something
---
A very warm welcome to everyone. This is my very first book that I have ever tried writing. Please read it and support me throughout the journey of this book.
I will be very grateful to you all people.
Please like and tell me about how you like my story.
English is not my first language so please forgive me for mistakes.
Thank you very much
By author.
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